Thursday, February 12, 2015

1930s Desperados in Love and Death

"Five minutes,” says Clyde grandly, like it’s the Pledge of Allegiance. “Five whole minutes!”

Then I hear a muffled sobbing sound. Bonnie must be getting all emotional.

"What is it, Sis?”

"Oh, Daddy,” she squeaks, “what about if when we die, you go to heaven and I don’t? What’ll happen to us?” She starts to cry.

"Oh, Sis,” says Clyde. And I know that they’re in each other’s arms again.

"Oh, Daddy!”


"At least we gonna get to go down together. Isn’t that what we always said we wanted, Sis?”

"I know, but, what if…” Before she can finish, Clyde cuts her off.

"Reckon we’re just gonna have to explain to old Saint Peter that we’re a package deal. I’m sure we can get him to understand that.”

"Oh, Daddy, I love you! Don’t worry, I ain’t sceered.”

"All right!”

"Bonnie may not be scared, but I am. I’m so scared I’m shaking like a leaf. So this is how it ends. Shit. Maybe if I had my twelve-string in my hands, I could pick out a song that would buck me up a little for when that light gets turned off. Why’d I leave it behind in that car? Why, because I knew I was about to die in a hail of goddamn gunfire and I didn’t want it getting all shot up. I wanted someone else to have it to play songs on even if it was one of Frank Hamer’s boys.
(Excerpt from Friend of the Devil," available on Kindle)

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