On the Run With Bonnie & Clyde

by John Gilmore

  From the backseat, Ray said, “We gonna get more cash?”

  “We got a full tank of gas. I don’t want anyone runnin’ behind us. We’ll get what we need when we get where we’re goin’.”

  Later, the three stopped at a roadside diner west of Abilene. They ate tamales, and when Bonnie finished she took advantage of the ladies’ room to tidy up. Ray and Clyde remained at the counter drinking beer.

  Leaning closer to Clyde, Ray said, “Those old stiffs are lookin’ at us. Over there.” He nodded in the direction of an elderly man and woman eating grilled cheese sandwiches. “They’re gawkin’ like they know somethin’s fishy.”

  Clyde said, “Soon as Bonnie’s done in the can we’re gettin’ outta here.”

  “What’re we gonna do in this here dirt town we’re headin’ to?” Ray asked. “Plant cotton?”

  Clyde looked at him. “You’re fuckin’ dumb, you know that? You ever look in a fuckin’ mirror and say, ‘You’re dumb’?”

  “So what’ve they got where we’re goin’ except a hole in the ground? They got a fuckin’ cathouse down there, for Jesus’ sake?”

  Clyde stiffened. “If they do, it won’t be for the sake of Jesus. I don’t know what they got down there. I never been there and I don’t give a shit if they got a cathouse or not.”

  “No,” Ray said, “you don’t need a fuckin’ cathouse—”

  “I want to sleep,” Clyde said. “I want to eat and walk around in the fuckin’ sun without some bastard stickin’ a gun at me.”

  “Okay, okay,” Ray said. “You don’t have to get salty.” He glanced toward the rest room. “What’s she doin’ in there?”

  “Whatever she’s doin’,” Clyde said, “she’s mindin’ her own business.”

  “She should come on so we can get outta here,” Ray said. “Those two old farts’re drillin’ holes in me with their damn bug-eyes. They’re not lookin’ at you.”

  “So stop starin’ at ’em. They’re thinkin’ the same about you—somethin’ fishy about you gawkin’ at them.” Clyde glanced over at the elderly couple. He nodded, and smiled. Ray got up and headed for the door, saying he’d wait in the car.

  The couple returned the greeting to Clyde. He looked up as Bonnie came out of the restroom, wearing a bright new red shade of lipstick, and a light rub of rouge on her cheeks.

  Clyde said, “Honey, you look beautiful as the first day I saw you.” Bonnie sat beside him. He said, “You knew I loved you then, didn’t you? I didn’t know it and you knew it. I didn’t even know you. I loved someone I didn’t even know. That’s never done any changin’,” he said. “I never knew what it was to love somebody and they love you back.”

  “Two people becomin’ like one,” she said. “That’s what we are. I don’t think words without hearin’ you speakin’ inside me.” She smiled. “And I hear ’em in my heart, daddy—in the heart I’ve given to you.”

  The sun was setting blood red by the time the back roads delivered the three to Carlsbad. “My face is sunburned,” Bonnie said. “I hope my aunt’s as nice a lady as Momma’s said she is. I just don’t remember her. I was too little.”

  Millie Stamps, Bonnie’s aunt, had no idea her sister’s daughter was planning on a visit to Carlsbad. Pleased, but surprised to see Bonnie, the woman said, “You’re so grown up, and all I’ve got’s a memory of the little girl your momma brought to say hello. My goodness,” she said, “I wouldn’t’ve recognized you in a hundred years! You’re so pretty you look like you’re someone in the picture show! It’s years since I’ve even see you, isn’t it? I’m so surprised!” She was more surprised by the two young men accompanying Bonnie.

  To keep things proper, Bonnie introduced Clyde as Jack Smith, saying, “Jack and I just got married, and this here’s Jack’s cousin, Jimmy White. He was best man at our weddin’.”

  “My goodness,” Millie said. “I had no idea! Your mother never let me know—”

  “—we eloped!” Bonnie said, smiling. “Momma doesn’t know it, so it’ll be a big surprise when we’re back in Dallas and I break the news.” Blushing, Bonnie said, “We’re on our honeymoon time, Aunt Millie, and I’m hopin’ you might know a quiet cabin or room nearby? We’ve all been thinkin’ of seein’ the cavern.”

  “I’m sittin’ on a spread here,” Millie said, “and about as quiet as it gets. You and Jack’re welcome to stay if you don’t have any objections. Jimmy can have the little room in back—just off the porch.”

  Ray and Clyde went out to the car while Bonnie and her aunt chatted over coffee and graham crackers, talking about the time Bonnie’s mom and Millie made homemade ice cream.

  Outside, Ray said, “I’m sleepin’ in a shed while you’re in a honeymoon suite.”

  “You don’t want the couch,” Clyde said, “you can sleep in the car?”

  “Yeah, I’ll sleep in the fuckin’ car,” Ray said. “Did’ya know Bonnie was gonna tell that old gal about y’all gettin’ married?”

  “You thinkin’ there’s anythin’ wrong with it?” Clyde said.

  “Hell, no,” Ray said, smirking. “Ain’t nothin’ gets me happier than holy matrimony—”

  “—just remember your name’s Jimmy White,” Clyde said. “That old lady’ll be goin’ to bed, and I want this shotgun in the ‘honeymoon suite.’ Leave all the rest of the shit in the car.”

  As soon as he lay on the bed and closed his eyes, Clyde was already falling asleep. He didn’t even sense Bonnie crawling into bed and cuddling against him. When he did open his eyes he was startled for a moment, realizing he’d dropped off without anyone standing guard. Bonnie stroked his shoulder and said, “It’s okay, daddy, not a soul knows we’re here and nobody’s gonna know, so go back to sleep.”

  “I can’t,” he said, turning towards her.

  The next morning, Clyde was up early, shining his shoes while Bonnie and her aunt were in the kitchen making plans to whip up some ice cream. When Bonnie came into the bedroom she complimented Clyde on his shoeshine, and said, “Later we’ll go buy some clothes and see the cavern.” She smiled. “Me’n’ my aunt are gonna make some homemade ice cream. Get Jimmy to go to the market for some ice. Aunt Millie says the store’s right there in the town on the highway.”

  “I’ll get him,” Clyde said. “He’s outside smokin’ and bitchin’.” Looking at her, he whispered, “I’m sure not sorry we’re here, but I’m sorry he’s with us.”

  Bonnie kissed him. “Have him get ice so we can make the ice cream.” Whispering, she said, “Last night’s gonna be one of the happiest night’s of my life. Do you believe I love you more’n anythin’ in the world?”

  “Honey,” Clyde said, “you are my world.”

  While Ray drove into town for the ice, Bonnie followed her aunt around the vegetable garden. “It just grows and keeps producin’,” the woman said. “My neighbor helps me gather it for a vegetable stand down by the market. We get many customers from the folks around here, and there’s always people comin’ by, travelin’ through like y’all.”

  Clyde took a quick hot bath, shaved in the tub, and Bonnie came in to wash his back. While she went back to visiting with her aunt, Clyde changed his trousers and shirt, then lay back on the bed, the shotgun on the chair by the door. When the older lady knocked on the bedroom door, Clyde got off the bed and opened the door. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I was admirin’ how good this bed feels. I went to sleep so fast last night I didn’t even know where I was layin’.”

  She was staring at the shotgun. Clyde said quickly, “Somethin’ my daddy gave me. I don’t like to leave it layin’ in the car.”

  “You always drivin’ with a shotgun in the car?” she asked.

  “Well, yes, ma’am, my cousin and I go huntin’ pretty regular. Never know when the wantin’ is gonna be the right time.”

  “What do you hunt with a shotgun?” she asked, and added, “one that looks like somebody’s cut the shootin’ barrel down shorter?”

  “Just close range,” Clyde sai
d. “Rabbits and such.” He shrugged, smiling.

  A few minutes later, Bonnie came into the house. Clyde asked, “Where’s the old lady gone?”

  “She was outside,” Bonnie said. “Said she had to take somethin’ over to her neighbor.”

  “She was talkin’ about the shotgun,” he said.

  Bonnie said, “Earlier I saw her lookin’ in the car window before Ray drove off.”

  “She say anythin’ to you?”

  “No,” she said. “But she was gettin’ shaky.”

  A half hour passed. They heard the car as Ray pulled in front of the house and parked. He got out with two bags of ice and several bottles of beer. Clyde could hear him saying something to the old lady before he brought the ice and beers into the house. Bonnie said, “My husband’s in the bedroom.”

  “Very funny,” Ray said and walked down the hallway. In the bedroom he asked Clyde, “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Ice cream,” Clyde said. They both heard the kitchen door open, then shut, and the woman speaking to Bonnie. “She got nosey seein’ the shotgun.”

  Ray said, “She asked me if we’re goin’ huntin’. I said, ‘Huntin’ what?’ She didn’t say nothin’ else.”

  Clyde put his finger to his lips as the woman approached the bedroom. “I saw the ice in the sink,” she said. “If you come in the kitchen we can start workin’ on the ice cream.” Ray nodded and joined the woman in the kitchen where Bonnie was opening beer bottles.

  About thirty minutes later there was a knock on the front door. “I’ll see who it is!” Bonnie went from the kitchen to the front room. She opened the door. She didn’t say anything. A uniformed deputy was at the door. He asked about the car. “Oh, it belongs to one of the boys,” she said in a calm, pleasant voice—actually a signal that the law had arrived. “They’re dressin’,” she said. “They’ll be right out.”

  Clyde picked up the shotgun and snuck into the front room. Through the window he saw the laws snooping through the car windows, then walking to the rear of the car and trying to open the trunk. Ray came out of the kitchen. Clyde said, “Laws.” He took a deep breath, pushed open the screen door and walked outside with the shotgun leveled. Startled, the deputy reached for his own gun, but Clyde sent a loud load of buckshot into the ground inches from the man’s boots.

  With his hands raised the deputy said, “I’m not movin’. You got me cold, alright.”

  Clyde could hear Bonnie trying to quiet her aunt as Ray came out of the house. He snatched the deputy’s pistol from the belted holster. “A Colt .45,” Ray said. “Frontier special.”

  “What’re you going to do?” the deputy asked. “I already got a call in on your vehicle. They’ll be all over here in minutes.”

  “You’re lyin’,” Clyde said. “Nobody’s burnin’ their balls over a hot car. Frisk him,” Clyde told Ray.

  “I have no other weapons,” Ray said.

  Aunt Millie was at the door, crying, “Oh, my God—what’s happenin’? That’s Deputy Sheriff Johns!” she said. “What happened here?”

  “Nothin’ to worry about, ma’am,” Clyde said. “Go on back in and fix your ice cream. It’s all under control out here, isn’t that right, Deputy?”

  The deputy nodded. “We’re all under control, Miss Stamps. Just havin’ us a discussion.”

  Clyde said to Bonnie, “Take your aunt back into the house, and you come out with what’s left behind.”

  “I left my shavin’ bag on the porch,” Ray said.

  “Give here the keys to the car and the deputy’s gun,” Clyde said. “Go get your stuff on the porch and tell that old lady to stay in her house there till we’re gone.”

  “What about him?” Ray asked.

  “Deputy Johns’s goin’ for a ride with us,” Clyde said. “Walk around the other side of the car, Deputy, put your hands down and turn your back to me.” Clyde unlocked the driver’s door, pulled it open and said, “Come back this side where I am, and you get in the car and over to the middle of the seat. Keep your hands together like you’re prayin’ right there by your chin.” Ray came back outside and Clyde said, “Go get Sis and whatever crap’s left, and hurry up. We’re takin’ off.”

  “What about the old woman?” Ray asked.

  Clyde said, “Tell her if she starts yakkin’, this here laws is gonna get a grave earlier than I bet he’s countin’ on.”

  Ray ran back into the house and the deputy asked, “What’re you goin’ to do?”

  “When they get out here, they’re gettin’ in next to you,” Clyde said as he adjusted the shotgun against the driver’s door. With the Colt in his left hand, he got into the car behind the wheel. “Cozy, eh? We’re all gonna be in the front ’cause there’s no backseat as you saw snoopin’ around, and I’ve got your Colt pointin’ at your gut.”

  Eighteen

  Clyde raced east on empty back roads, speeding over bumps and holes, the car bouncing like a plane fighting to get off a runway. Deputy Johns, pinned between Clyde and Ray, with Bonnie on Ray’s lap, stared ahead through the windshield as Clyde drove with the force of a hurricane. Bonnie frowned as she asked Johns, “Why’d you follow us and get all this trouble goin’ when we were havin’ a vacation?”

  The deputy said, “My job, ma’am.”

  “To hell with your job!” Ray said.

  “Look,” Johns said, “I was asked to check y’all out. Soon as I got to where you were—to your aunt’s house—I checked the car, the plates. I had to see the registration.” Glancing at Clyde, he said, “I got my answer damn quick.”

  Clyde said, “I knew you were lyin’ about laws racin’ around. Sure wanted to stay there,” Clyde said. “Woulda been damn nice.”

  “I’m sorry I busted up your vacation,” Johns said. “It wouldn’t happen if you weren’t in a stolen car. All I got to say now’s where the devil are you takin’ me?”

  “Would you like it better if I’d shot you?” Clyde said.

  The deputy started to say something but Bonnie cut him off. “We’re gettin’ blamed for all the thing’s goin’ on, sayin’ we’ve done this and we’ve done that, and I know different.”

  “Of course,” Johns said. “They’re goin’ to throw a lot of crap at you. Try to catch you and make it stick. Makes them look good.”

  “Sure that’s what it is!” she said. “You’re sayin’ they don’t care who’s done somethin’ long as they’ve got a body to answer for it.”

  Clyde said, “They don’t care whose body it is long as they can hang it.”

  “That’s about it,” Johns said. “Say, if you dump me off and I’m still breathin’, they’ll pretty much call the shots and grab some trigger-happy sap for shootin’ a deputy sheriff.”

  Laughing a little, Clyde said, “We’re not gonna shoot you, Deputy. What reason we got to shoot you about?”

  “Being an eyewitness—” Johns started to say.

  “—but we’ve done nothin’ to you!” Bonnie said.

  “Well, you’ve kidnapped me,” Johns said. “You know the new Lindbergh law.”

  “Is that what we’ve done?” she said. “Kidnapped you?”

  Clyde put his shoeless foot on the brake, slowing a little, and said, “Then that law’s enough a good reason to shoot you right now.”

  Bonnie said, “We’re thinkin’ you’re not complainin’ since you’re enjoyin’ our company.”

  “Frankly,” Johns said, made nervous by Clyde slowing down, “I’m enjoyin’ your company, ma’am. You’re quite a pair, you two, and with your pal pointin’ my gun at me. I just keep thinkin’, wonderin’ where we’re goin’.…”

  Clyde picked up his speed again. “You won’t be goin’ to a graveyard,” Bonnie said, “in case that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

  Johns nodded. “That’s what I’ve been thinkin’, ma’am.”

  “I’m not enjoyin’ bein’ called ma’am’,” she said. “My name’s Bonnie. That’s my name.”

  “Just being respectful,” the deputy said.
“I know your Aunt Millie, and she called you by name.”

  Ray said, “That lady got down on her knees in the kitchen and begged us not to kill you. She said she was askin’ God to save you.”

  “And she asked the Lord to save us all,” Bonnie said. “Are you still scared?”

  “Sure he’s scared,” Ray said. “He’s sittin’ here shakin’.”

  “To be honest,” Johns said, “I’m a little scared, in fact, not knowin’ what you’re doin’ with me.”

  “We’re socializin’,” Bonnie said. “We see our folks hardly at all, so we don’t get much socializin’. People have to have some social interactin’ with their family.”

  “I can understand that,” the deputy said.

  Clyde said, “Even when the laws want me in the electric chair.”

  “New Mexico doesn’t want you in an electric chair—”

  “You said about a Lindbergh law and you’ve been kidnapped,” Clyde said. “Accordin’ to that law, if anybody’s gonna press it, I might as well park you in the woods and take a load off the car.”

  “I’m for that,” Ray said. “This jabberer’s puttin’ me to sleep.”

  “I take that back about bein’ kidnapped,” Johns said. “I’m here ’cause I’m enjoyin’ your company, like Bonnie’s sayin’. I’ll write you a note sayin’ so.”

  Clyde said, “That’ll go over ’bout as big as a dog gettin’ through a keyhole.”

  Johns stiffened. “I don’t see it makes a difference what I say. You’ll do what you’re gonna do. I was only reachin’ for my weapon, since he had a shotgun on me.”

  “Don’t fret,” Bonnie said. “We aren’t gonna to harm you. You didn’t really try to shoot anybody, and Clyde’s partial to someone who doesn’t try to shoot him. We’re enjoyin’ your company and want you to think of us as bein’ friendly travelin’ companions.”