Wanted (24 page)

I like a woman who's strong, but not one who's bossy. “You know what? I got this under control. When I need your advice, I'll ask you for it. Until then, just sit there and look pretty.”

“Ohmigod, you are so… what's the word?” She twists her hair round her finger, looking up.

“Exciting?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

“Handsome?”

A tiny smirk appears and then fades. “No, um…”

“Sexy?”

She laughs. “No! I was thinking stubborn or chauvinistic.”

I don't know the second word, but I ain't got time for book learning. “Stubborn's about right. But only for your own good. Now what about my idea about heading to Texas?”

She takes a deep breath, fussing with her ring. “Actually, I need to head to Shreveport.”

“In Louisiana?” I rub my chin, wondering what she's up to. I know there's a deadline, but the way she was fretting over my speeding means maybe she ain't as worried about it as I'd think she'd be. “Why? You got kin there?”

She picks up her communicating device. “Um, yeah. And my mom's buried there. I was thinking I'd stay with my grandma for a while until this whole thing blows over. So, if you don't mind, we'll need to take 55 South all the way to Memphis. Then 40 to Little Rock.”

I ain't sure how much to believe. I got a million questions, and some stuff she's telling me don't add up, but I'll play along until she slips. Because she will. I know firsthand how fibbing gets you into a bigger heap of trouble than the truth. So I'll pretend I'm a country rube and when she stumbles, I'll make her do things my way.

“Route 55 South to Route 40 West. The little robot thing called my brain has got it.” I take a deep breath, relishing the warmth on my face and the fresh air in my lungs. Feels good to be doing, not watching. We settle in for a stretch, watching traffic and commenting on the buildings. Finally I say, “So why'd you run in the first place? From what I seen through Jack Daniel's eyes, you was the one wanting to steal the bus and get out of town, not him. You running from the law, Twinkle?” I smile, having fun teasing her.

“What? No.” She makes a face like she smells something bad. She adjusts her shirt when it don't need adjusting.

I can't believe my eyes. “Ha! You're lying! I can tell by the way you're acting.”

“No, I'm not. You're crazy.” She stares straight ahead, taking her ring off and setting it on a different finger, and then back again.

I seen her do that same thing on the bus when they was trying to get away. “Look at you, all nervous. Come now, Twinkle, fess up. Nothing I hate worse than liars.”

She sighs, rubs her eyes. “Okay, yes, sort of. I'm on probation right now.” She aims her finger at me. “Don't get all weird about it. It's not what you think.”

I grin. “A fellow con! Will you look at you? What you on the lam for?”

“Vandalism—but I haven't been convicted, so I'm not a con,” she snaps. “Not yet anyway. They'll drop the charges as long as I stay out of trouble for a year.” She leans back on the headrest. “Of course, I just screwed that up, didn't I?” Her voice cracks, like she might cry.

My heart pinches up in my chest. I remember my first arrest, the one I got for not bringing back a rental car on time. “Not for sure you didn't. There's lots of ways to get out of it. Coppers arrest the wrong person, or they don't got no evidence.” I smile—not to cheer her up, but because knowing this about her puts me into an even finer spot. I can make her do anything, go anywhere I want, under the threat of avoiding arrest. Sticking with me is her best bet. I know she's got to arrive at that idea on her own, but there ain't no crime in helping her see the light. “Besides, if you keep on the run, they might never catch you.”

“I don't want to keep on the run.” She examines her fingernails, picking dirt out from under one. “I've never been to jail, but it can't be as bad as hiding out for the rest of my life.”

Anger claws at my ribs, trying to get out. But I can't lose my temper again so quick, or she'll harden her heart to me and become bored—the way she looked when she was with Jack Daniel at the party. I take a deep breath and work at keeping my voice even. “If you ain't ever been, you really don't know which is worse now, do you?” The big buildings on the side of the road are gone and small shabby houses have taken their place. I bring the truck up to eighty, feeling the power increase.

“Fair enough. But I want to go to college and if I ran, that would be the end of that. This whole conversation is pointless.” She opens her window. “Can we talk about something else?”

“College? My, you really are a smart one!” I can't stop grinning, wondering how I got me such a fine woman at my side with both brains and beauty. I watch the sun hitting bits of glass on the side of the road, and the patches of wildflowers mixed along with garbage, thinking about all the million questions I have for Twinkle. I finally settle on the one that's most pressing—what will happen at the deadline. I need to be sneaky about it though because I ain't even positive she knows there is one. “How's about once we get to Memphis, you and me get a room at Harbin's and go see hear some Memphis blues in the city?” A sign announces distances to cities I never heard of. “We could hear some music, drink some wine, maybe get cozy…” I raise an eyebrow, wondering what she'll say to that last idea.

Twinkle sits up right quick. “What? No, we have to drive straight through. We can take turns driving, but I need to get there by tomorrow morning.”

That means she must know about the deadline too, or she wouldn't be in such a rush. I'm going to stir the hornet's nest a bit and see what flies out. “Why is that? No disrespect to your mama, but she ain't going nowheres. It'd sure be sweet for us to have some time to get to know each other. You and me got a lot in common. If you give me a chance, you might even like me back.” I switch lanes, going around a slowpoke that keeps patting the brakes for no good reason.

“Who knows, but unfortunately, I won't have time. I have to go to a funeral. Starts at nine.” She starts fussing with the folds of her skirt, twisting the fabric between her fingers.

“Is that right?” Her lies are getting thicker and more troubling. “Who died?”

She glances my way, enough for me to know that her eyes read scared, not sad. “My Uncle Tim. Crazy dude. Drank too much.” She fusses with her ring again. “It was very sudden.”

“Oh good. Because I thought maybe you was worried about some sort of deadline.”

“Deadline?” Her eyes flicker, but she tries to shrug it off. “What are you talking about?”

I've pulled her chain long enough. “Come now, Twinkle. I already tole you I don't like liars. I figured out the deadline way before Dimwit did. You tell me what you know, and I'll get you there safe and sound—and on time.” As long as I'm alive at the end of that rainbow, that is.

She plays with the doodad on her necklace. “There's nothing to tell. All I know is that tomorrow morning we'll find out if we'll continue sharing our bodies—I mean, if you and Jack will keep sharing your body—or if you'll go back to where you came from.”

I knew she'd slip. I heard that sour note and I ain't gonna let it pass. “What was that? Why'd you say sharing ‘our' bodies like you is sharing a body too?”

“Nothing. No reason. Wasn't thinking, that's all.”

Twinkle's hand lies on the seat between us. I wonder if that phobia of hers could come in handy now. I reach over and place my hand on top of hers, holding it tight. “Tell me the truth and I'll let go of you.”

She shakes like a rattler before squealing, “It's me, baby! I am trapped inside of her, the same way you are. She's lying to you, Clydehopper!” Twinkle's voice sounds different, like she's from Texas too.

Hearing her use Bonnie's nickname for me makes me let go of Twinkle's hand like it's on fire. Alarms go off in my head. “So it's true! Bonnie's inside of you!” I check the road and then look back at Twinkle. A tiny flash of light races past my eyes.
Go away!
I roar. The lights fade.

“No, but I do a pretty good imitation of her, don't I?” She folds her hands up by her neck, eyes fluttering. “Oh, Clydehopper,” she drawls. “I'll do anything you want because I've got no personality of my own.” She shrugs. “See? I'm a good actor, aren't I?”

I stare at her, a grenade ticking in my chest. I'm not fooled. “Eyes don't lie. You been keeping this from me. Bonnie's inside of you. I heard it with my own ears.”

She looks out her window. “No, Clyde, she's not. You're just mad because I used her baby nickname for you.”

“It's not a baby nickname. She called me that when—” I remember how she used that name whenever she was trying to lighten the mood, make me laugh. Lights flash across my mind.

“When what? When wittle Clydehopper got a boo-boo?” She giggles.

The lights flash again, brighter, faster. “Stop it, I said!” I point my finger in her face. “You say it again and I'll push you out the truck.” That ought to make her heed my word from now on.

She narrows her eyes. “Push me out of the truck? Wow, Clyde. I was only teasing.”

And still she backtalks me? I stare at her, wondering if I lost my touch, or if women today say whatever they want. “You do know I killed twelve men, right?”

Talk about passive-aggressive. Yes, Clyde, I do know. So are you saying you'll kill me if I tease you again?” She stares at me, waiting for an answer instead of backing down.

I never seen a woman so forthright and headstrong. Looks like I need to come up with a threat that'll make Twinkle mind her mouth, to make her fear me properly, since reminding her I'm a killer didn't do it. Then I come up with the perfect solution—a lie so powerful that it'll make her skinny knees knock together and keep that brazen tongue at bay. “Something just occurred to me, Twinkle. Something so important that you oughta pay heed.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her turn my way. “Oh yeah, what?”

I give her my meanest son-of-a-bitch stare, no smile on my face, silence. I wait until she's squirming in her seat, eagerly fretting to hear what I got to say. “No matter what you say, I know Bonnie's inside of you, waiting for the deadline same as me. And you might think that will keep you safe, but you're wrong. Because though I once loved Bonnie, I'm sure I can get another gal to keep my bed warm. So you ought to know that if you keep on sassing me, I would just as soon kill you as keep you. I'm good with a tire iron and I ain't afraid to use it. Even if you are the prettiest thing I ever seen.”

I turn my head toward the window so she can't see the grin on my face.

For once, Twinkle ain't got nothing to say. Glad to see she's finally minding her manners.

After Clyde threatened to kill me if I sassed him again, I shrink down in my seat and stare out the window at the setting sun flickering at me between rows of trees, staying silent. What an ass! Is this how he always was? If he doesn't like someone, he threatens to kill them?

Oh, please. He was only saying that to make you stop talking.

Didn't seem like it to me.

He hates quibbling more than anything. He's actually quite a peace-loving fella.

Right.

I take a deep breath, leaning back on the headrest, trying to make sense of everything Clyde said. He thinks he's the master of the game, but I'm no idiot. My mom used to say that when people are angry, there's an ounce of truth along with a pound of snake venom in their argument. But what part of Clyde's tirade was truth and what part was snake venom? I think of my mom then.
Stay with me, Mom. I need you today more than ever.
A strong breeze makes the truck shake from side-to-side as Clyde grabs the wheel with two hands.
Thanks for the signal, Mom. I knew you wouldn't leave me.

I get back to thinking about what Clyde said. If Clyde actually did love Bonnie, how could he talk about replacing her so easily? Is there a chance that he just kept her around because she followed him like a lovesick puppy and had sex with him whenever he wanted? I mean, how many girls would go for a life running from the cops? Makes me wonder about Bonnie's final request. Together forever? It sure doesn't sound like that was Clyde's last wish.

How dare you! Clyde's not going to tell you nothing. He's too smart for that. He loved me as much as I loved him. True, not many gals would go on the lam with their men, but it proves I loved him most of all.

I grip the armrest. Having Bonnie know every thought of mine sucks! She's probably right though. Why would Clyde tell me anything? He's manipulating me the same way I'm manipulating him. Everyone knows Bonnie and Clyde's romance is right up there with Romeo and Juliet's. You can see it in all the newspaper clippings—Clyde holding Bonnie in his arms, Bonnie playfully posing with a shotgun at Clyde's chest, all her romantic poems about him. Unless…

I stop reminiscing and start replaying exactly what he said.

Every time I said “Clydehopper,” he got more and more angry. Could thinking of Bonnie cause him to relax so much that it allows Jack to take over? Bonnie did say Clyde's weakness was sex. Maybe when Clyde thinks about Bonnie, Jack can take over. I bet that's why he wanted me to shut up—because the lights were flashing and Jack was trying to take back his own body!

You're woolgathering, girl. Talking nonsense.

I grin. Sounds like my theory has Bonnie worried. I can't test it now, but as soon as Clyde cools down again, I will. Or should I say as soon as Clydehopper cools down? I search my hair for split ends, thinking about what else Clyde said. He told me he could just as easily kill me as keep me. Was he serious, or was he trying to bulldoze his way into making me do what he wants by threatening me? Anger runs up my spine and lodges in my throat, simmering, building up, until finally I can't take it anymore.