“Boondockers,” by Sheree Shatsky

Aug 20th, 2019 | By | Category: Fiction, Prose

A thin guy wearing a Comic-Con hat stands outside the screen door of my RV.

“Sorry to bother you. Is it okay to park here overnight?” He speaks in an accent I can’t quite place.

“Yeah, Walmart’s good with it.” I look over at his rig. “That your Class A?”

“Venusian Sports Model. Vintage. Rebuilt with parts off the mother ship. Dig my new stabilizers.” He beams a π formula off his spindly finger. The steel support legs raise and withdraw into the underside.

I watch it hover in place. “Cool,” I say. “Camping World carry those?”

He shakes his bulbous head. “Picked ’em up last trip out to Marfa. Private dealer.” A woman pops open a porthole and leans out. “Harry, put this thing down and come help me with the awning.”

The stabilizers unfurl like an arachnid. “Name’s Harry,” he says, holding out his gaunt hand.  I laugh. “So I heard. I’m Steven.” His four digit grip illuminates my palm. “Where you headed, Harry?”

“Flyover country. Got a couple of old friends to visit, then home. You?”

“North, maybe New Hampshire.”

Harry nods. “Buzzed through in the ’80s, but from what I can remember, beautiful homes, incredible dark skies.”

The woman steps out the stainless steel entry hatch. “Harry!”

Harry points at his wedding ring. “Gotta get back to the old Shipmaster. Mind if we run the generator later?”

“Hey man, no problem. Sooner the better. This north Georgia heat is a killer. By the way, the awning…” I nod toward Walmart. “Best not to look too permanent to avoid a late night knock on your door by security.”

He chuckles in dolphin, all clicks and whistles. “Men in black waving flashlights, eh?” With a wink and a so long, Harry strolls over to his rig and buffs his vanity plate with his shirt sleeve. RETIRE IN ROSWELL.

I slip out later for a late night smoke. The parking lot hums steady with generators cooling motor homes and tractor trailers. I look over at Harry’s and see a soft swirl of cast off litter slowly rotating where he parked earlier in the day.

“Martian cloaking device, 1956,” Harry telepaths in an accent I can’t quite place.


Sheree Shatsky writes short fiction believing much can be conveyed with a few wild words. She was selected as an AWP Writer to Writer mentee for flash fiction Spring 2018. Recent work has appeared in New Flash Fiction Review, Funny Pearls, Moon Park Review, Flash Flood, Crack the Spine, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, KYSO Flash, Fictive Dream, and X-R-A-Y Literary Magazine. Read more at http://www.shereeshatsky.com. Sheree tweets @talktomememe.

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