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 RV parks.  I'd seen a few in the last couple of years, chasing construction
projects.  I was well known enough in the proper circles that I never had
any more space between jobs than I wanted, and six or seven weeks ago I
wanted to work.  A couple of phone calls and here I was in Nowhere,
Alabama. At an RV park.

   I pulled a big travel trailer behind a pickup truck that caused drool to
run down many a chin on a construction site, and my standard ploy was to
park the travel trailer at a convenient RV park and live in it, pocketing
the sizable "per diem" allowance I got in addition to a very happy number
for a regular salary.  And that park would be my home for anywhere from six
weeks to a year as I played "engineer" on some construction project.

   This particular park was one of the nicer varieties.  Its clientele
tended more towards vacationers and tourists (yeah, they have 'em in
Alabama) instead of construction bums.  That's why I chose it.  Quiet. 
Grey-headed snowbirds choosing the South for the winter were a lot quieter
and more pleasant that a bunch of construction workers.  And the park had a
pool.  And it was late summer, so the influx of Northerners had yet to show
up, so it was almost empty.

   I'd been here two weeks.  After the first week, every day when I came in
I'd stop at the little office to check for any mail that might show up for
me, and that put me on a conversational basis with the older lady, Mizz
Helen, that did most of the day management.  We talked a little every day
just to pass the time.  After the second week I was on her "Let me tell you
what's going on here" list.  That got me caught up on a permanent (more or
less) trailer parked in the far corner of the park.

   "Daughter of my husband Herb's brother," she explained.  "Her dad is
lazy an' useless, and she's lazy an' useless, AN' a slut to boot.  Herb let
her stay here 'cuz she ain't got no place else to go.  That's her daughter
you met by the pool."

   Yeah, it WAS an "upscale" RV park.  It had an activities pavilion and a
small pool, and on some days I came in from work and went down there more
to soak away the day than to swim.

   "Oh, yeah," I said.  "What's 'er name?  Cindy?"

   "Yeah, Cindy," Helen said.  "She's the one we feel sorry for.  Kid don't
have a chance, bein' raised the way she is.  Can you imagine livin' in a
thirty-three foot trailer with you momma screwing a different guy ever two
weeks?"

   "That's not good," I said.  "But what can you do?"

   "Dunno," said Helen.  "Just wisht somethin' would come along.  Almost
anything would be bettern' that."

   "I guess," I said.  "Anyway, I think I'm gonna do a Friday evening at
the pool."

   "'Kay, Dan," Helen said.

   While I went to my trailer and changed out of my work clothes and into
swim trunks, I didn't know that Cindy had walked into the Office and was
talking to Mizz Helen and their conversation was about me.

   "Hi Mizz Helen, was that Mister Dan that just left here?"

   "Yep, said he was gonna change and go soak in the pool for a while."

   "He didn't say anything about ME did he?"

   Helen noticed the light in Cindy's eyes when she said that, and how she
kept glancing at Dan's trailer.  The look in Cindy's eyes told her volumes.
She could see she was anxious to hear a response, but a little afraid of
what she that might be.  The only times Cindy had ever mentioned any male
before she was obviously worried and afraid.  This wasn't anything close to
being afraid of Dan.

   "Why yes, yes he did," said Helen.  She didn't say more.  She wanted to
see how interested Cindy was in about what Dan said, and how she would ask
her about his comments.  Sometimes a question someone asked told you more
than asking them a question.

   "So, what did he ask?  Did he want to know if I had a boyfriend?"

   That question told Helen all she needed to know.  Cindy, who had never
shown the slightest interest in boys her own age, and was repulsed by her
mom's "friends", and had never had any kind of relationship with an adult
male outside of the scumbags her mom Donna brought home now had a DEFINITE
interest in at least one male.

   "Well, he didn't ask that exactly, but we did discuss you and how it is
a shame what kinda life your mom is making you have."

   Cindy's face showed her disappointment.  Her shoulders sagged and you
could hear the breath slowly being expelled.

   Helen continued with "He is going to be at the pool in a few minutes,
why don'tcha go there and visit with him, get to know him a little more. 
Maybe he needs somebody to talk to."

   That brought the spark back to Cindy's eyes, and with a quick "Thanks
Mizz Helen", Cindy was out the door and headed to her trailer.

   I'd walked down to the pool and was chin-deep in water, just floating
and soaking away my cares when I heard the gate open and close.

   "Hi, Mr.  Dan," Cindy said.  "You beat me here today."

   "Oh, hey, Cindy," I answered.  "Yeah, I left a little early.  Sometimes
I get to do that." I turned over in the water to see Cindy.

   She was a YOUNG teen.  She was maybe five-three and a hundred and five
pounds.  Hair was short, well into red, sort of aged copper, straight-cut
bangs at the eyebrows above a pair of startling green eyes.  Leggy, too. 
Leggy didn't adequately describe her though.  While many young girls have
"pipe stem" legs, or just starting to show some curves to their calves and
thighs, Cindy had well defined legs that a professional dancer works years
to develop.  Her one-piece bathing suit followed some young girl curves as
they began morphing into young lady configuration, and her chest was
showing the swells of young breasts, mere risings.

   She stepped off the deep end of the pool and went straight underwater,
then popped up and shook her head.  "Whew..." she said, that always feels
sooo good..."

   "Tell me about it," I said.

   We spent the next half hour kicking back and forth across the pool.  I
got out first and swished the water out of my short hair and then lay down
on one of the lounges beside the pool.  Cindy followed and took the lounge
next to me.  We were the only ones there, it being the middle of the week.
Weekends would see more activity.

   "So what'd YOU do today, Mr.  Dan?" she asked.

   We'd been chatting for the last two weeks.  That was the routine.  We'd
both show up at the pool, swim around for a bit, then lounge side by side
talking.  I'd learned in two weeks that Cindy was not stupid.  In fact, I
found her pretty darned intelligent, but under-educated.  She watched TV a
lot, and actually kept up with current events and loved the science and
nature channels.  And we talked.

   "Just uninteresting engineer stuff, Cin," I said.  "It's not always
magic.  Sometimes it's a lot of tedious paperwork."

   "Oh," she said.  "You hate that, don't you?"

   Before I responded, I noticed how she was looking at me, and it had a
different look than before.  Her green eyes, framed by the longest lashes I
have ever seen, had a glimmer that I hadn't noticed before.  "Yeah," I
said. "But sometimes you have to put up with the bad to get the good." I
turned to look at her.  The water had turned her auburn hair dark.  "What'd
you do?  Anything interesting?"

   "Watched TV this morning until Mom woke up.  Me an' her's been arguin',
so I got out of there pretty quick when she woke up."

   "And then?"

   "Walked over to the back fence an' watched 'em harvesting that soybean
field.  It's interesting, ya know, all that big equipment an' how they do
things."

   "Yeah," I said, "but be careful, Cindy."

   "Careful?  Why?" She looked at me quizzically.

   "Because you're a pretty young thing an' there are some rough characters
that follow those harvests around.  I would hate to see something happen to
you."

   "Awww, Mr.  Dan," she smiled, "you're sweet for carin'.  I'm careful. 
Those guys are way on the other side of the field.  I just watch." And the
look from those emerald eyes made me catch my breath.  All at once I knew
if anyone DID try to molest Cindy, they would seriously regret that
decision if I found out about it.  Another part of my brain also responded,
as well as another part of my body, that look guaranteed a reaction from
the "male" aspects of my psyche.  I had to struggle to push that thought
down, and I willed the reaction she caused to subside, not being 100%
successful with either effort.

   "Good!" I said.

   "You know," she said, "I was watchin' those big machines an' I was
thinkin', like, Mr.  Dan probably knows that stuff too.  You know lots of
stuff, bein' a engineer an' all."

   "You flatter me, little girl," I said.  "I'm an electrical engineer. 
That's more of a mechanical engineer's thing."

   She smiled.  "Yeah, but you know lots of stuff."

   "You do, too, for your age.  You pay attention." She did.  I picked up
that much from our conversations.  "So," I asked, when's school start back
up?"

   "Two weeks," she said.

   "Excited?"

   "No, not really." She sighed.  "I'm the outsider.  Even for here, living
in an RV park puts you on the outside.  An' Mom doesn't spend a lot on my
clothes.  Sometimes people make fun of me."

   "I'm sorry to hear that.  Kids can be cruel."

   "Yeah," she said.  "An' if I need help on my homework or stuff, I'm on
my own.  Mom's, like, ZERO help.  I don't know if she' doesn't KNOW, or if
she don't care."

   I considered for exactly zero seconds before saying, "Cindy, if you need
help, I can help you.  While I'm here, you know.  That'll get you halfway
through the year, anyway."

   "Oh, thanks!" she smiled.  "I could use some help."

   "Yeah, just make sure that your mom knows that I'm helping you.  I don't
want her looking for her missing daughter and finding you at my place for
no reason."

   "Yeah," she snorted, "like she cares what I'm doin'."

   "Cindy," I said, "she cares.  Just tell her, okay?"

   As the sun set and shadows lengthened, we both headed to our respective
homes.

   Saturday afternoon found me at the pool again, but this time I shared it
with several weekender kids and adults.  I did a little soaking and
swimming, and then retired to a lounge with a cold beer and a paperback.  I
was there about half an hour when I heard "Hey, Mr.  Dan..."

   "Oh, hi, Cindy," I said.  "What's up?"

   "Oh, nothin' much.  Mom didn't come home last night," she said.

   I knew from Helen's discussions that this wasn't too unusual.  Cindy's
mom was a part-time "Barmaid" and had a tendency to go home with a
customer. According to Helen, "Better for her to go peddle her ass
someplace else than in the same trailer with her daughter..."

   "Oh," I said.  "You know if anything ever happens, you just come knock
on my door, okay?" And you know, on this day when I said it, I was being
perfectly innocent and protective.

   "Thanks, Mr.  Dan," she said simply.  Then she hit the water with about
half a dozen other kids.

   I made small talk with some of the adults until dusk.  I was stretching
and getting ready to leave when Cindy got out of the pool.

   "Mom's not back yet," she said.  "I thought she'd be back by now."

   "You gonna be okay?" I asked.

   "Yeah," Cindy said.  "I can fix me somethin' for supper.  It's not like
this is the first time."

   A neuron fired at random in my brain.  "Hey, Cin!  If you want, you can
go out with me and get some pizza..."

   Squeal!  "Oh, that'd be GREAT!" she squealed.  "I NEVER get to go out to
eat!"

   ""Well, go leave a note on your mom's door in case she gets back before
we get back.  And change clothes.  I don't think Pizza Hut's going to like
your bathing suit."

   "You don't like my bathing suit?" she pouted.

   "Oh, no, I like your bathing suit plenty.  It's just not up to the high
standards of Pizza Hut's dress code."

   She flounced off, looking back over her shoulder to smile at me.  Cindy
walking is a story all by itself, the kind of walk runway models strive to
perfect, she just did naturally.  From the rear, that meant each butt cheek
lifted, moved in a perfect "C" pattern, and was immediately mirrored by the
other one.  Every two steps was a perfect figure "8", and every male beyond
puberty noticed when those long legs topped off by that perfect butt was on
the move.  Yeah, I watched.  And the walk changed to something that can
only be described as a suppressed desire to skip.  Thirteen!

   Ten minutes later I was putting on my shoes, having stepped in and out
of the tiny shower of my trailer and changed into jeans and a polo shirt. I
heard a knock at the door.  "Come in.  Or not.  I'll be done in a couple of
minutes!"

   The door swung open and Cindy stepped inside.  She looked around. 
"Heyyyyy!  This is NICE!"

   "It's a travel trailer, but it's home," I said.  I stood up.  "You
ready?" I surveyed my dinner "date".  The hair was dried and brushed and
sleek and shiny and the face was scrubbed perfection.  She was wearing
shorts and a cotton blouse and looking very cute and proper.

   "Yeah, but it's clean an' a lot newer than ours," she said.  "An' it
smells good."

   "Well, thank you!" I said.  "Let's go!" We headed out to my pickup
truck. This got another round of compliments.

   "Wow!  Nice truck, Mr.  Dan!" She buckled in, her small form the entire
way across the big cab.  She looked at me, beaming.  "So where were you
this mornin', Mr.  Dan?"

   I was a little taken aback by the question, mainly because it meant that
Cindy was noticing my comings and goings.  "I had to go run to the
airport."

   "Why?  You goin' somewhere?"

   "No," I said.  "I had to make arrangements to get my plane inspected."

   "You have your own PLANE!?!?!" Her eyes were wide open with amazement.

   "Yeah, but it's not that big a deal.  I bought it when I was in Alaska.
It's little, and it's old, but it makes some trips a lot shorter." The
plane was an old Cessna 180.  I was a licensed pilot.  Getting it here
after a six hour drive dragging the trailer over was fun trick.  Friends
will do wonderful things for free food and gas, although coming to pick me
up in a classic, seventy mile an hour cruise, authentic Piper Cub was a
marathon.  It's interesting to fly down the interstate highway and get
passed up by automobile traffic.

   "You, you're like, a PILOT too?"

   "Yeah.  It's not that big a deal."

   "I don't know anybody else who's a pilot." She looked at me.  "You do so
much cool stuff..."

   "It's really not that big a deal.  If you saw that plane, you'd
understand."

   "So show me."

   I gave that a second's thought.  "Sure.  When the mechanic finishes the
inspection, I'll take you flying.  Maybe in a week or two."

   Squeal.  "Thanks, Mr.  Dan."

   We drove twenty minutes into the next larger town and I fed the girl
pizza.  And I've taken more mature females to top-notch restaurants and
received less gratitude.  We laughed and enjoyed mediocre pizza and Coke
and you'd have thought I presented her with caviar and champagne.  After
the meal, I dumped a handful of quarters into her hand and let her play
video games for half an hour before we headed back.

   Pulling into the RV park, we surveyed the space where her mom's trailer
sat.  No car.  I pulled up on the drive in front of her trailer.  "Are you
going to be okay, baby?" I asked.

   "Yeah, said Cindy, "I do this all the time."

   "Well, if you need ANYTHING, you come get me, okay?"

   "Oh, yeah, Mr.  Dan," she said as she unbuckled.  I was glad she hadn't
yet opened the door because the cab lights would have illuminated her
jumping across the seat and planting a kiss on my face.  "Thanks so much,
Mr.  Dan!" And then she exited.  I watched to make sure she got into her
trailer and then drove and parked at my own.  I went inside, showered again
quickly and shaved and went to bed.

   Sunday morning.  I got up at seven, an hour later than my norm during
the week.  I started to fix myself breakfast.  At the kitchenette sink I
looked out the tiny window to the far corner of the park.  Cindy's trailer.
No car.  That same neuron fired again.  I pulled on some clothes and got in
the truck.

   Walking up to her trailer I knocked.  Nothing.  Knocked again.  From
inside I heard "Just a minute!"

   The door cracked open and Cindy's head peeked out.  "Oh, hi, Mr.  Dan,"
she smiled.  "I was still asleep."

   "So you haven't had breakfast?"

   "Noooo."

   "You still got that note to leave your mom?"

   "Yeah," she giggled.  "Why?"

   "I'm going get breakfast.  Wanna come?"

   She smiled.  "Uh-huh.  Let me get dressed."

   I sat in the truck for a few minutes and then she bounced out the door.
She climbed into the cab, face aglow with her smile.  Clothes?  Same outfit
as last night.  Twenty minutes later we were both seated in front of
breakfast plates of pancakes, eggs and bacon.  Soon sated, we drove back.

   "So has your mom ever been gone this long?" I asked.

   "Yeah, one time she left for four nights.  She called Mizz Helen and
tol' her to look out for me.  Tol' Mizz Helen that she was with her sick
momma."

   "Yeah?"

   "Except Grandma died when I was eight.  An' Mizz Helen knew that."

   "Ahhhh..."

   "So she'll either call Mizz Helen or she'll be home today, I think. 
Since I start school next Tuesday, anyway." She sighed.  "Just drop me at
the trailer."

   We pulled up at her trailer.  As she unbuckled she looked at me.  I
looked back.  What I saw was sadness in those big beautiful eyes, and I
felt part of me wanting to replace that with the happy girl eyes I looked
into less than an hour ago.

   "I better not kiss you like last night," she said.  "But I would, you
know.  Thanks for breakfast.  An' everything." She popped the door open to
slide out and when her feet hit the ground, she turned.  "See you at the
pool later?  All the weekenders will be gone."

   "I'll be there, princess." And I asked myself what I was getting into.

   Cindy did show up at the pool.

   "I see your mom's home," I said.

   "Yeah, she got home at one.  With a hickey and a new tattoo.  Nasty!  I
hate tattoos.  Her old ones are turnin' blue..."

   "But everything's cool?"

   "Yeah, she didn't even ask what I did this weekend.  Just showed up. 
Says she's got money an' she's gonna go with me to buy school clothes this
week."

   "That's good..." I was trying to be positive.

   "Hmmphhhh!" she snorted.  "No it's not!  You know what Wal-Mart is going
to look like?  The week before school?"

   "Good point!  Wish I could help..."

   She looked at me, those green eyes boring into mine, sad.  "Mr.  Dan, I
know you would.  But not right now..." She and I swam our normal routine
and then parted.  I watched her walk ahead of me to her trailer, towel
slung over her shoulder, wet hair dark against her head.

   Monday.  Back to work.  Stopped at the park office as Mizz Helen was
shutting things down.  She handed me my mail.

   "Cindy said her mom was gone all weekend."

   "Yeah," I said.  "I felt sorry for her so I took her out for pizza
Saturday..."

   "And you picked her up Sunday morning for breakfast." Mizz Helen
coughed. "Cindy told me.  That was nice of you."

   "Well, I kinda worry, you know, these days."

   Mizz Helen paused and looked at me.  "You worry about what?  Helping a
kid with half a parent?"

   "No, worry about somebody seein' a forty year old guy running around
with an unsupervised teenaged girl."

   "Hon," Mizz Helen said, "I don't think you're the kinda guy's gonna hurt
her.  An' compared with what she's got right now, just about anything would
be an improvement!"

   "Still..." I said.

   "I'm just happy that none a' Donna's "boyfriends" has tried anything
with Cindy."

   "Yeah, you're right.  Cindy's quite a cutie," I admitted.  At least, it
was the first time I'd voiced it.  Just seeing her around made me smile.

   "Hmmmphhh!" snorted Helen.  "She don't hafta be cute, Dan!  Those guys
Donna brings home?  They'd do a snake if you held its head ...  After all,
they're doin' Donna."

   I looked at Helen.  "That," I said, "would cause me serious
heartache..."

   Helen smiled.  "Well, I just 'preciate you lookin' out for that
youngster."

   Met Cindy at the pool an hour later.  "So how's the new wardrobe?" I
asked.

   Cindy wasn't smiling.  "Yeah.  The very best that Wal-Mart has to offer
just before school starts."

   "Picked over?"

   "That's an understatement."

   I was a little bemused by this thirteen year old girl in an RV park
popping up with words like "understatement" in her conversation.  I guess I
shouldn't have been, but I was.  "Tell me something," I said.

   "What?" she asked.

   "If somebody was to, like, give you a couple hundred bucks to go buy
clothes, how would your mom take it?"

   "And who'd do that?" She fixed me in those green eyes again.

   "Don't worry about that.  Let's just say that Mizz Helen gave you an
envelope with two hundred dollars..."

   "If Mom found out I had two hundred dollars, SHE'd have two hundred
dollars."

   "Oh.  That's not good.  Let's try this again.  If Mizz Helen was to,
say, take you to town an' pay for some clothes, what would your Mom do?"

   "I dunno."

   "Is it worth a try?" I looked at her.  "I mean, would you catch a lot of
crap.  Or would she come unglued on Mizz Helen?"

   "I don't think she would.  Mizz Helen is like my aunt.  But we're not
really talking about Mizz Helen's money are we?"

   "Don't worry about that.  Let's swim." We swam.  Half an hour later I
was hanging on the edge of the pool, getting ready to get out, when I felt
arms wrap around me and a face at my ear.

   "Thank you, Mr.  Dan."

   The next day I caught Helen again.  "Mizz Helen," I said.

   "Dammit, Dan, don't call me Mizz Helen.  You make me feel a hundert
years old.  What!??"

   "I'm sorry.  Age ain't got nothin' to do with it.  It's the way I was
raised."

   "Yer folks done good," she grinned.  "What's going on?"

   I told her what I was trying to do.  Told her that if Cindy's mom asked,
Helen was just paying Cindy back for helping out around the park all
summer. And I gave Helen one of my credit cards.