Bluesman Drives the Devil to the Crossroads

Mr. Stevens Explains the Devil's Proposition to Bluesman Herbert T. Barrow. And Why He Dresses Like a Preacher.

“I’m not a preacher,” says Stevens.

“Well then, why you go around dressing like a preacher?”

“Hey, it’s a free country, innit? Listen,” he says, “you can look high and low in this world of ours and you’d be hard pressed to find any evidence of God’s existence. Ain’t that right?”

“Boy howdy,” I say. “I’ve certainly never seen any.”

“On the other hand, evidence of the Devil’s existence is everywhere you look. But the only reason you don’t acknowledge this is that you insist the two deities are linked together.”

Hearing him put it that way, I let out a laugh. “The two deities, that’s funny. I almost like that!”

“No, no,” he says, excited. ”Just one. You only need to believe in the Devil.”

“The Devil? Shit!”

“No! The Devil is your friend,” says Stevens. “The Devil’s proposition is the only one that makes any sense.”

“And what is the Devil’s proposition?”

“Don’t be weak, don’t be meek. You see something you want, take it. Somebody gets in your way, knock them down. Do anything you want. Satisfy your cravings. Don’t regret anything. Life won’t last forever, so enjoy it while you have it. You’re going to Hell anyway. All the Devil asks is that you give him your soul.” Stevens smiles sweetly, like he’s proud of his explanation.

“And that’s why you’re heading to the Crossroads? To trade in your soul for something?”

“Not exactly,” he says with a grin. Then I see the sign for the Highway 61 Crossroads.

(Excerpt from Friend of the Devil, available on Kindle) .

Road to Del Rio 3: A Little Filling Station in Missouri

It is inside a little gas station and grocery store in rural Missouri that Herbert T. Barrow learns that, of all things, he is being touted by the media as the newest member of the Barrow Gang. Not only that, but they've also got him down as a "mad-dog killer" and the gang's criminal mastermind. He has no idea what to make of it, since the last time he'd seen his young cousin, Clyde was only about ten years old. 

Herbert admits to the reader that back then he had run around with Clyde's older brother Buck, breaking into warehouses and stores late at night, which, technically, makes him a charter member of the outfit. Of course that was twelve years earlier, long before the Barrow Gang was celebrated as America's favorite

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Public Enemies. Herbert wonders if any of this could have anything to do with Mr. Stevens, the hairy-faced country preacher he'd given a ride to earlier, who seemed to know everything about him. Stevens, is of course, the Devil himself, but no matter how much evidence points to that fact, Herbert would never connect the dots, since admitting to the Devil's existence, also means, by extension, admitting to the existence of God, which Herbert, being a fervent athiest, refuses to do.

On the other hand, this little corner of southern Missouri is, to anyone from the flatlands of Texas, a kind of heaven on Earth.

Here is a little quote from "Friend of the Devil:"


Suddenly I realize how ravenously hungry I am and that if I could, I’d take them right now and gobble them down on the spot. But I don’t, because I’m on the lam and best not to do anything quirky that’ll stick in their memories. No, I’m just a quiet, well-mannered city feller who came and went without giving them no never-mind. Instead I start a conversation.

“Man says you got the Barrow Gang coming through?”

“That’s what they saying on the radio.”

“What’d they say?”

“Only that they’s in the vicinity, going to effect a rendezvous with Clyde Barrow’s cousin.”

“Cousin? Didn’t know he had a cousin.”

“Yes, sir. They say his name’s Herbert T. Barrow and that he’s a bad one.”

“Oh?”

“Mad-dog killer he is, G-men been chasing him all the way from Knoxville."