It was like poking a snake with a stick. (Suzanna Danna)

A few jobs (about four, and over ten years) ago I was working for this man named Steve. He was the fatherly (drunk) type who was extremely protective of me. He owned a manufactured housing lot.

Yes, I worked for a man who sold trailers to couples named Ricky Don and Billy Lauren.

Shut it.

No really. This is a good story, you just have to get past the fact that I worked there.

A college degree and $10 an hour. Working at a mobile home lot.

Breathe in.... breathe out.... and let it go. In through the nose.... and whoooosh, out through the mouth. There you go. It’s okay baby. I know. I know.

So, there I was working for Steve and his partner. Let me Google the partner, because, if the baby Jesus loves me there will be video to back this up.

Denied.

This really doesn’t have too much to do with the story but I have to paint a visual for you guys. Seriously.

The partner’s name was Hank. Hank Dunkerson. I just Googled him and found some guy in Knob Lick, Kentucky... and I am not even kidding. I also found his name mentioned on MySpace and somewhere selling real estate in Indiana. But when I knew the Hank I am talking about, he was an evangelical preacher... between jobs.

Somehow Steve worked a handshake deal with Hank to be partners at the dealership, which was named, (I am so ashamed) Mobile Home Junction. Just like Petty Coat Junction but without the classy element of the three dames and a mutt swimming in the town water supply. But with, WITH the classy element of an evangelical preacher and his beer belly, the straining buttons and the non t-shirt wearing under the cheap WalMart button down shirts. So on a blistering day or when he had one too many hot dogs and he had been out walking the lot trying to make a sale he would come back in and be purple. His armpits wet with sweat, his face red with exertion and those poor buttons over his belly just a straining to contain that extra subway foot long he had for lunch and not succeeding so you would be treated to the sight of his sweaty belly hair.

Gah.

He couldn’t be counted on to show up on time or to stay his full shift so his wife and their eleventy kids were always running all over the place. And oh, OH... his wife.

Let me sum this up as quickly as possible because I do want to get off this tangent. It’s making me a little uncomfortable.

He met his wife when he was officiating her wedding. At the time he was dating her mother. And just like that, true love.

You can’t make this shit up people.

So, Steve was awesome and Hank made my teeth itch.

I was their office manager.

Steve would bark orders to the sales guys from his closed office door on one hand and then on the other make customers feel at home, welcome and at ease when they were signing the dotted line on the largest purchase they had ever made. And Hank? Was a preening peacock with all the winning characteristics of a pedophile/used car salesman.

Behind the “office” was a warehouse where we kept the furniture to stage the homes to make them look less like a metal box on axels. I was so uncomfortable in the “real office” (Hank wanted to talk religion and then discuss the merits of something sexual... sweet.) that I asked Steve if I could office in the warehouse. He installed a window A/C unit in there for me and I could smoke, get my work done and have a barn cat sit on my desk and no one to bother me. It was awesome.

The guys would call me or come out to my office when they needed someone to close a deal, do paperwork, make some service requests, order supplies, whatever... and so they could get away from Hank. Steve would come out to my office and pull up a chair under the A/C unit and take a nap while I was clackity clacking on my little Brother Word Processor, filling out sales slips, running people’s credit and researching titles and whatnot.

The business was booming and Steve and Hank decided to hire a few people. They had their finance guy who was like buttah with the banks, they had their office manager (me), they had their “talent” – Hank – to do the commercials, (Lord. Seriously. Someone has to have seen them. They were SO bad.) and they had Steve as the fatherly “everything is going to be fine” guy to do that laid back sell thing.

One of the first sales guys didn’t last so long. It was a purely commission job and he wasn’t charismatic enough. Nor did he have the requisite sweaty belly hair that Hank sported.

This young kid came along. Named Mike. Mike (I could just go ahead and tell you his last name as Google cannot find him. Linton.) came to the office and made a sale or two in his first few days. He was a nice enough guy but had... I don’t know, a dark side. His wife would come to the sales lot and bring her kids. Mike was her second husband and younger than she was. Sometimes she would just be looking for him, sometimes she was looking to get away from him. One time he left her at the lot and I ended up taking her home. Forty-five minutes away.

No clue what that was all about but he wasn’t all there. He was... odd. And for some reason I taunted him. It was like poking a snake with a stick, but he just wouldn’t leave well enough alone sometimes so I would give him a rash of shit. He normally would lay into me when other people were around.

Mike: Hey Susan?
me: Yes, Mike?
Mike: You’d go out with me right??
me: ::blink::
Mike: I mean, you think I’m the man... right?
me: Hey Mike?
Mike: Yes, Susan?
me: You aren’t my type.
Mike: It’s because you’re married, right?
me: Sure. If that’s what you want to hear.
Mike: Bitch.
me: No need for that. You asked. I told you the truth.
Mike: What, so... like... would Gary Wayne be your type?
me: Sure... if I wasn’t married.

Steve used to say that we had a pretty strange little family unit there at Mobile Home Junction. A preacher (Hank), a drunk (Steve himself), a midget (finance guy), an alien (Mike’s ears stuck out like he was Spock), a cowboy (Gary Wayne) and me.

This has nothing to do with anything but Gary Wayne (and yes, the name is redneck, move along) was hot. HOTTTTTTTT. Sizzle. He would come out in the evening (on Steve’s command) and bring me a cold beer*. If he was feeling froggy he’d turn up my radio and ask me to dance right there in the warehouse. Most times I would. Nothing like winding up a long ass day with a nice waltz.

*If I ever see another Key Stone Light, it will be too soon.

Hank had it out for Gary Wayne from the get go. He was intimidated by him and his sales record. He was pissed off that some cowboy could sell more than he could. The lot was getting to be too small for all of those egos and business was booming so Steve decided to open up a lot about 20 miles southwest of our location on the loop in Lufkin. That lot was called Deluxe Homes.

Steve took the finance guy, another sales guy (Roger) and pulled a friend of his named Lee out of retirement and opened up the new lot. Their business was slamming the competition. I would have to drive over there several times a week to do a closing on a house. Steve was kind to me; he would pay me a bonus on each contract that I closed because there was so much paperwork involved.

Mobile Home Junction was floundering except for Gary Wayne. Hank decided that he wanted to do a land/home venture with a friend of his so he opened up a third “lot” between the two existing ones and made Mike the manager of Mobile Home Junction.

Steve told me, “No matter what, you don’t have to report to anyone but me. I hired you. They didn’t. So if they give you shit, you just call me. I don’t know what Hank is up to with this land/home thing, but I have a feeling it is going to go south.”

“Please take me with you!” I begged. “I don’t want to be left up here with.... them!”

“You’re closer to home up here, no worries, everything is going to be fine.”

Hank decided to move me back into the main office. He put my desk in the same room as his so he could, “keep an eye on me.” So every day I would go in, start on my work and somewhere around 10 he would roll in and then talk loudly on the phone or in the kitchen or his family would show up or something. Some poor person would come onto the lot, the sales guys would get the short end of the stick if Hank wanted to show off and Mike was left holding nothing.

Mike started to get pretty squirrelly. His sales were going south and he had no control.

One night I was closing a deal for Gary Wayne and I had my notary stampy thing and my record books in his office along with the sales contracts and whatnot. That evening when I left, I accidentally left my notary stamp and the record book in Gary’s office.

Mike jumped all over me the next morning. He waited until Hank got there so he could hear him say, “I found your stuff in Gary Wayne’s office.” His voice dripped with venom. He shook the book and the stamp at me and I took them, smiling brightly, “Oh, thanks!” Hank came storming out of his office, “What stuff?” Like I had left some porn, a blow up doll, a sheep, a rubber mat, a ball gag and a sex swing in there. I held up the record book and my stamp, “This stuff.” Hank replied, and I am so not kidding, “Don’t let that happen again.”

Hank and Mike went behind closed doors and whispered and talked for a good hour as I answered the phone, worked and Gary fielded the sales.

Later on that day Hank asked me into his (our) office and closed the door. He proceeded to counseled me about the sanctity of marriage and how if I was going to go screwing around on company time then I could just leave.

And then he belched, left the office and drove away.

I called Steve and told him what was happening. He told me to pack up my stuff and show up at the Lufkin lot in the morning. I did as I was told and the next morning all hell broke loose. Hank and Steve had a massive argument because Hank had no idea how to do anything except point at various things in the homes and say, “The crown molding makes it have that special homey touch. Can you see yourself living in this beautiful home? We can make it happen.” Hank had no idea how to field service calls, talk to the manufacturer, deal with inventory, do a proper title search or print up the paperwork to sell a home. All of the finance went through the Lufkin lot so he was shit outta luck there too.

All the new kids that Hank and Mike had hired started fleeing the lot like rats from a sinking ship.

Mike wanted to come to Lufkin, Steve said he was full up so Mike stayed where he was. Gary Wayne went to another dealer and was very profitable. I would travel up to the original lot to do contracts and that is where it got ugly.

Mike would come on to me, he would tell me horrible stories about his marriage, his step kids... anything to stay in the same office space I was in when I was marking up the sales contracts and getting ready for a closing. It was very uncomfortable. I told him that I didn’t want to have any interaction with him as he made me uneasy.

He grew a wispy mustache, “How about now?”

It was awful and I had quit taunting him a LONG time before any of this happened. My husband at the time said that Mike was pissed off that I turned him down in front of people. My argument was that he came onto me in front of people and to save face in a lot full of men I had to turn him down at the exact moment that he was inappropriate.

When things got sketchy I got the sense that if I even came back at one of his remarks with something close to ego bruising or anything other than, “oh, yes... you are the man.” (which I would rather be chewed on by a wild badger than say) that he would snap, so I just did my work in silence and would greet the new home owners warmly and then leave as soon as I got their signatures, set up their delivery and explained their warranty. It was dreadful.

If I was at the lot I asked that someone else be there as not to be alone with Mike after I found him staring at me one afternoon while I was typing up a contract. I looked over into the kitchen and I swear, if he could have killed me with that look, then I would be dead.

Y’all have to understand. I was a young, Southern, polite, hardworking girl that needed that job. I was miserable, but I was polite. I never led the man on, nor was I friendly with him. I treated him civilly when customers were around but other than that, I ignored him. I was furious with him for trying to get Hank to fire me for “having relations with Gary Wayne” (ps.... SO did not happen) and when he tried to pull rank ...

Oh! I didn’t tell y’all about this one.

One night I was in Steve’s old office doing some work and Mike came in and told me that everyone had gone for the day. I started to pack up my stuff to leave and asked him to close the gate on his way out. He suggested having a little fun since we were there alone. I tried to laugh off his advances and he got pissed. He told me that if I wasn’t stupid and wanted to keep my job that I would get with the program. Or something just as lame. I said, “Goodnight Mike.” And walked out the door. He yelled something out after me but I was running for my truck.

It turned out that I had good reason to be frightened of old Mikey boy.

He was a jealous man and did not approve of his wife’s ex-husband being involved in the kid’s lives. They were his kids, not Mike’s. It was a very strained relationship.

One morning I was due to go to the original lot before I drove down to the Lufkin lot. A couple wanted to close on a home they had picked out the night before and schedule the delivery. I showed up, unlocked the gate, unlocked the office and turned on the air conditioning. I made sure my papers were in order and then the couple came in. I took them back to Steve’s old office and kept an ear trained on the front door. I heard Hank pull up and one of the other sales guys. I heard the phone ring and Hank basically shouting (he was a loud talker  understatement of the year) into the phone. I closed the deal with the couple, got them scheduled for delivery, explained their warranties to them and then went to walk them out the door.

Hank asked if he could speak to me when I was finished.

I watched the couple drive away, excited about their new home and then I turned to go back inside. Hank was red and sweating although it wasn’t that hot. He asked me if I had talked to Steve yet that morning. I said, “No sir.” And then he said...

Hank: There’s been an accident.... I think.
me: Pardon?
Hank: Well, it seems that Mike shot his wife and her ex-husband last night.
me: Wait, what?
Hank: Mike shot Veta (sp?) and then her ex-husband last night, then he turned the gun on himself.
me: Is Veta okay? Where are the kids?
Hank: I’m not sure of all of the details, but no... Veta is not okay. He shot her in the head and she died.
me: And her ex?
Hank: He’s going to make it.
me: And Mike?
Hank: He shot himself in the chest, but they think he’s going to make it too.

I sat down hard, stared off into space for a few minutes and then got up slowly and walked to the door. I got into my truck and went to the Lufkin lot. Steve was very worried as I didn’t answer the phone at Mobile Home Junction and Hank did. He tried to tell me about what he had heard on Mike’s story, but I didn’t want to hear it. I just kept thinking, “I taunted that man. Sure, he was an asshole, but he killed his wife. His wife. I was in close quarters with a murderer almost every day for over a year.”

He was in jail when they buried Veta. I went the funeral. Open casket*.

*The fuck?

A few months later before Mike’s trial he was out on bail. I was sitting on the porch of the Lufkin lot office having a smoke with Roger when Steve came out of the office, took my smoke, threw it in the butt can, grabbed me by my upper arms and shoved me inside. He said, “Get in my office and don’t come out.” He looked startled for a second, scanning the parking lot. He asked me, “Where is your truck?” “Parked behind the office.” I replied, a little off balance. “Good” he said, “Now go, I’ll explain later.”

I went into Steve’s office and curled up in his chair and turned towards his office window. He could see everything from that office and you always knew there was an eye on you when you were out on the lot. He was one of the greatest bosses I ever had. He let me be me, expected the impossible from me and I delivered. He taught me so much.

I sat there curled up in his chair, peeking out of the corner of the blinds, smelling the familiar scent of Steve’s cologne, beer and the old battered wooden desk he insisted on using. I was just about to let my mind wander when a familiar truck pulled into the lot. It was Mike Linton. He hopped out with a smile on his face and greeted the very uncomfortable welcoming party that stood on the porch.

Steve stood with his back to the door of the office, clearly blocking it. Did I mention he was 6’6”? They all said hello to Mike and I saw Mike look around. I could hear muffled voices coming from the conversation and it sounded like Mike asking what everyone was doing outside. Steve replied something about enjoying the weather and trying to drum up business and then Mike asked if he still had a spot on the sales team. Steve told him that it really depended on his trial and the outcome of his situation. Not wanting to piss Mike off, but trying to set a boundary, Steve stepped to the porch steps to block them as well.

I saw Mike’s eyes flicker to the window to Steve’s office. I had no idea how long I had been holding my breath but I didn’t draw in a shuddering lungful of air until his glance slid away. Mike asked Roger (the jovial one of the bunch), “So, where’s Susan? Up at the other lot?” Roger said, “Not sure man, she’s probably out getting lunch, running errands or doing some work.” Mike asked, “So, does she still work for you Steve?” All Steve said was, “Leave her alone Mike.” Mike looked down, then looked back at where I was peeking out of the blinds in Steve’s office and then grinned and walked to his truck. He was all, “Great to see you guys.” And then he drove away.

When he was gone, they all came into Steve’s office to tell me what was said. Steve asked me to stay at the other lot for a while as it was further from Mike’s home. Mike was under surveillance and one of Steve’s cop buddies had called to warn him that Mike was coming our way.

I totally attract the crazy.

I don’t remember what happened to Mike after that. I think he went to jail, prison, was on parole, whatever. I just don’t remember. I tried Googling him and I even called the Lufkin Daily News, their archives online don’t go back that far so I was out of luck. I didn’t work for Steve for very much longer. I didn’t like the long drive, dealing with oily Hank and his schemes and the way he treated Steve mad me madder than a wet hen.

It was all Steve’s money that built the lots, Hank was just a salesman who got a good bargain when Steve gave him the original lot so he wouldn’t have to deal with him ever again.

Yes, Hank was that bad.

I didn’t have health insurance, dental or a 401K. I was working at a mobile home lot with a killer asking around about me. I knew it was time to move on when I had the tubal pregnancy and didn’t have the insurance to take care of me in the hospital. I left Steve and his gang in June of 1997 but kept doing his contract work after hours for a little extra cash until 1999, when I left Nacogdoches.

I think I’ll leave it at that. 8 pages all from a little note I left myself that said, “Write about Mike Linton.”

Suzanna Danna

Princess of Irony

It was like poking a snake with a stick.

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