It was true, too; it was her heart she’d had the urge to put out when she opened the door and saw Charley standing on her porch, all weary from the road, with eyes as sweet as sugar.
Something in Lulu couldn’t hold out against a sweet boy like Charley. She was only a breath away from being in love with him, foolish and dangerous as that was. But it had always been that way with Lulu; young men with sweet, sad eyes had been her downfall more than once. It was why Big Carl had finally stopped doing business with her.
“Smart as you are about jobs, it looks like you’d be smarter about stiffs,” he’d told her bluntly. “What’s the point of setting up a racket and raking in dough if you’re gonna throw it away for some little jerk with a hard-on?”
“I can’t be smart all the time, it’s too lonesome,” Lulu told him. “What are you complaining about, anyway? I ain’t slipped up on the business end, and are we raking in the dough!”
“You might slip up, though,” Big Carl said. “You ain’t tough enough to go to the top in this business. I expect you should stick to running whorehouses in K.C. or somewhere.”
Charley had dropped off to sleep. Lulu couldn’t keep her eyes off him, or her hands. Big Carl had probably been right. She was running a whorehouse in K.C., just like he’d told her she should.
At least it wasn’t lonesome.
6
Bill “the Killer” Miller was hanging around the secretarial college when Charley located him. The secretarial college was in a gloomy old brick building in downtown Kansas City. Bill was dressed dapper, in hopes of appealing to some of the young women who were upstairs learning shorthand and typing.
“I guess you’re a part-time pimp now, you little fart,” Charley said, walking up behind Billy.
Billy jumped about two feet, and then turned around and pumped Charley’s hand.
“I missed you, bud,” Billy said, briefly overcome by emotion.
Despite himself, Charley was glad to see Bill Miller. There was something about the guy that he liked, though he had never expected to find him standing around a secretarial college in K.C., trying to pick up dissatisfied secretaries in hopes of turning them into whores.
“I missed you,” Billy said, again.
“Applesauce,” Charley said. “If you missed me that much, why didn’t you confess? Maybe they’da put us in the same cell.”
“I wouldn’t have got off as light as you,” Billy explained.
“Why’s that?” Charley asked.
“You still had most of the money when they caught you,” Billy said. “That’s why they went light on you.”
Charley decided not to tell him about Ma Ash and the judge.
“What happened to yours?” he asked. “Have you got it hid somewhere?”
“I lost every cent of it in a poker game,” Billy said. “The stiff I was playing cheated.”
“The stiffs you play always cheat,” Charley mentioned.
Just then, two girls with bobbed hair came clipping out of the secretarial college. The western Missouri breeze was blowing hard.
“There’s two skirts, you better get to work,” Charley said. “Both of them look like they’d make good whores.”
“I’ll ask them if they’ve got change for the streetcar,” Billy said, setting his fedora more tightly on his head. Too many times as he was about to speak to one of the would-be secretaries, the breeze had whipped his hat off, forcing him to chase it. Few girls would accept a pimp who had to chase his hat.
A lot of the time, Billy didn’t really care whether the girls became whores or not; in most cases, he would have been happy enough with just a date.
“Say, either of you ladies got two dimes and a nickel?” Billy asked, approaching them boldly.
“What if we have?” the taller of the two asked. She was a good head taller than Billy Miller.
“Why are you always hanging around here, you little twerp?” the other girl asked. She was a redhead.
“Do you think we’re loose, is that the game?” she asked.
Charley strolled over—he thought he ought to assist his friend. That very day, Ma Ash had bought him a swell blue suit. She also bought him shirts, neckties, and shoes; she even picked out his socks. As a special indulgence, she allowed him a pair of black gloves.
“Big Carl was right,” she said. “If you decide to pull a bank job, you need to dress like you belong in a bank.”
Ma Ash even bought him some white cotton handkerchiefs, and showed him how to fold them so they’d fit in the pocket by his lapel.
With his new suit and a green necktie, Charley felt smart enough to help Billy out with the girls. He tipped his hat when he approached, a detail Billy had neglected.
Billy rarely tipped his hat—in his view, that only encouraged it to blow away.
“Good afternoon,” Charley said. “I hope my pal ain’t been rude.”
He gave the girls a big smile, and both of them smiled back.
“Him? I didn’t even notice him,” the redhead said. “Is he your kid brother, by any chance?”
“Say, I’m older than him by a long shot,” Billy said. He was more than a little insulted.
“I wouldn’t be mentioning long shots if I was as short as you,” the taller girl retorted.
“How about dinner?” Billy asked, thinking a bold invitation might turn the tide in his favor.
“Dinner? You barely come up to my kneecap,” the girl said. “I’d have to ask the waiter for a high chair, if I went out with you.”
“Don’t listen to him, he runs off at the mouth,” Charley said. “My suggestion would be that we find a place that ain’t so windy.”
“Where would that be?—this is K.C.,” the redhead said.
“Don’t you girls live in a boarding house?” Charley asked.
“Yeah, but it’s respectable, we ain’t allowed gents,” the taller of the two said.
“Who says we ain’t respectable, I’m a college graduate,” Billy said. It was a lie he often resorted to when all else seemed to be failing.
“I bet, the college of low altitude,” the redhead said. Both girls giggled, and even Charley had to smile, although he knew Billy hated to be ridiculed about his height.
“You girls wouldn’t be from Tulsa, would you?” Charley asked.
“Nebraska,” both girls chimed.
“We’re going to be secretaries long enough to marry our bosses—then we’ll be rich and have maids,” the redhead informed them.
The girls let Charley and Billy take them to a soda fountain and buy them malts, but that was as far as the evening went. They even refused to allow the fellows to board the same streetcar.
“You ain’t working out as a pimp, Billy,” Charley said, while they waited for the next streetcar. “Maybe we ought to pull a job. Only this time, we’ll do it right.”
“What kind of job?” Billy asked.
“Maybe a bank job,” Charley said. “Ma Ash will help us plan it.”
“I could use the money, that’s for sure,” Billy said.
“I don’t suppose you still have the gun, do you?” Charley asked.
“I lost it in a poker game,” Billy said. “The stiff I was playing cheated.”
7
Charley had expected Beulah to be a little miffed that he hadn’t looked her up sooner, but he did not expect her to black his eye with a shoe.
Nonetheless, he barely had time to get “Hello” out of his mouth, before Beulah whacked him in the eye with a shoe. She put some muscle behind it, too. Charley couldn’t remember taking a worse lick since Pa’s mule kicked him.
“What was that for?” he asked, trying to assume an innocent look.
“That’s because I hate your cheatin’ guts,” Beulah said. She flailed at him again, but this time he was ready. They wrestled awhile, and he finally got the shoe away from her.
“I been waitin’ and waitin’!” Beulah said. “But no, you’d rather stay over there and screw that old whore.
&nbs
p; “You must have screwed her good, or she wouldn’t have bought you no suit,” Beulah added, just before she burst into tears.
Charley got a lie out as quick as he could.
“I would never do a thing like that, honey,” he said. “I thought of you all the time I was in the pen. You never came to visit me one time.”
“If I had, you’d have had two or three girls there ahead of me, I bet,” Beulah said. “You’re a cheatin’ liar, Charley, not a word you say is the truth.”
It was more than an hour before Charley could work his way back onto kissing terms.
“You better not poke no dick at me, not in my mood,” Beulah warned him, despite the kissing. “I’m mad enough to stab you with a fingernail file.”
Charley milked his eye for all it was worth. In fact, it was already swollen nearly shut.
“It’s a good thing you wasn’t carrying no high heels,” he said. “If you’d whacked me with a high heel, it would have gone plumb through my brain.”
“I wouldn’t have done a bit of damage, because you don’t have no brain,” Beulah said. “That dick you’re so proud of is all the brains you got.”
“Aw, Beulah, let up, it’s been years since I seen you,” Charley said. He was beginning to feel sorry for himself. Beulah was cuter than ever; she just wasn’t as friendly.
“You’re lucky I even opened the door. I don’t have to put up with no two-timing jerk,” Beulah said, her chest heaving. Charley was as cute as ever, but the thought of Ma Ash made her steam.
“Aw, Beulah,” Charley said, again.
“Aw Beulah what?” she asked. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t whack you in the other eye.”
“Then I’d be totally blind,” Charley said. “Is that a reason? I was gonna take you dancing, but now I can’t see to dance.”
Beulah remained silent.
“Let’s go down to Oklahoma, me and you and Billy and Rose,” Charley said, suddenly inspired.
“Oklahoma? Why would we wanna go there?” Beulah asked.
“For the adventure,” Charley said. “Me and Billy might pull a job. You and Rose could shop while we work.”
“Yeah, and the next thing you know, me and Rose will be in jail for life, and you and Billy will be doing what you please,” Beulah said. “Billy’s got a brain the size of a pea, and the rest of him ain’t much bigger.”
“But I’m gonna do the plannin’ this time,” Charley assured her. “Bill the Killer won’t do nothing but take orders.”
“I thought you was goin’ straight,” Beulah reminded him.
“I meant to,” Charley said. “But I tried, and it didn’t work. I tried Colorado and Texas both, and I got arrested so quick I didn’t even have time to mess up my shoeshine.”
“That’s ’cause you look like a crook,” Beulah said. “Where would we go to pull this job?”
“I told you, Oklahoma,” Charley repeated. “We’ll find some little town where the law’s lazy.”
“Forget the law, what about the shoppin’?” Beulah reminded him. “Why would me and Rose want to go to Oklahoma to shop? They got better stores right here in K.C.”
“Partly you’d be goin’ for the fun of it,” Charley told her. “There’s other things to do besides shop.”
“Not many,” Beulah said. She stuck a foot in Charley’s face.
“Smell my dirty feet,” she demanded.
Charley shoved her foot away. “Why would I want to smell your dirty feet?” he asked. “I need to find some ice to put on this eye. I can’t see a thing.”
“I’m still mad about Lulu,” Beulah said. “Why would you want to have anything to do with a stinky old bitch like her?”
“Will you can it?!” Charley said, getting a little steamed himself. “We got to plan this job, and thanks to you I ain’t got but one good eye to do it with. I’m sick of arguing about Lulu Ash.”
“Oh, now you’re even callin’ her by her first name,” Beulah said, feeling her temper rise again. “I guess that means you two are on real familiar terms.”
“Can it, I said, before I black your eye!” Charley snapped.
“Oh yeah? Black it if you’re so bold!” Beulah said, shoving her face up in his.
Charley remembered that she had done the same thing to Wally Ash in the dining room of Wally’s mother’s boarding house. Everyone had made fun of Wally for being too weak to slap her. Now she had just put him in the same position, only fortunately, they were alone.
“I have no intention of hitting you,” he said, stiffly. “Can’t you take a little teasing?”
Beulah grinned, and gingerly attempted to raise his bruised eyelid to see what the eye itself looked like.
“You ain’t a bit tough, Charley,” she said. “You ain’t a bit tough.”
“You might be wrong about that,” Charley said. “Just because I’m sweet on you don’t mean I’ll put up with all your sass.”
“Well, so far you’ve put up with it,” Beulah said, still trying to get a look at his eyeball. When she did, she was shocked by the effects of her own violence.
“Gosh, your eyeball’s all bloodshot,” she said. “I got in a good lick, didn’t I?”
“If Billy asks what happened, tell him a mule kicked me,” Charley said.
8
Lulu Ash laughed so hard when she saw Charley’s shiner that he began to get a little hot. Then it made him miss Ruby. All these city women did was slug him, or laugh at him.
“What’d she hit you with?” Lulu asked.
“A shoe,” Charley admitted. “That ain’t what I came to talk about.”
“No, I bet it ain’t,” Lulu said. “You’re too easy to get along with, sonny. You’ll always be lettin’ a woman lead you around by the nose.”
“If I do, it won’t be nobody I know at the moment,” Charley informed her. “You was gonna tell me about how to pull a bank job. Big Carl told me some, but he said you knew as much about it as he did.”
“More—he wasn’t no bank robber,” Lulu said. “He robbed the First National and took that ninety grand, but then they caught him. Me and one of my johns robbed six banks in Indiana, and nobody ever laid a finger on us.
“They was small-town banks, we didn’t get much, but it was a living,” she added.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Charley said. “I guess we’ll head for Oklahoma. Got any advice?”
“Arrive about an hour after the bank opens, or else about an hour before it closes,” Lulu said. “There’s a rush when a bank opens, and another when it closes. It’s best to hit a bank when things are a little slack, and the tellers are yawning.”
“Okay,” Charley said. “I need to buy a gun, though. Billy lost mine in a poker game, along with his share of the Kroger payroll job.”
Lulu opened a bureau drawer and rummaged around under some of her lingerie. Then she handed Charley his old pistol, the one Bill Miller had used to cover the guards that morning in the fog.
“Why, this is my gun!” Charley said, astonished. “I traded a five-gallon jug of moonshine for this pistol years ago.”
“I kept it for you,” Lulu told him.
“Aw, thanks,” Charley said. His face lit up at the sight of the gun. It reminded him of home. The old farmer who traded him the gun was named Leroy Starr—he had a big thirst for moonshine.
“You ain’t thinkin’ of shootin’ your missus with it, are you?” Leroy asked, when he handed Charley the pistol. It was a hot day. Mr. Starr had been digging a corner posthole, and his shirt was sweated through.
“Why, no, why would I shoot Ruby?” Charley asked, taken aback at the thought.
“I ain’t acquainted with your wife, son,” Leroy Starr said. “But I’ve come close to shootin’ mine with it a few times, I can tell you.
“I guess you can take it,” he said, finally. “I can shoot my wife with the shotgun, if it comes to that.”
“Hope you like the moonshine,” Charley said.
“Say, how much do I owe you
for it?” Charley asked, looking at Lulu.
“It’s a gift, Charley,” Lulu said.
When he left, handsome as could be in his new suit, Lulu stood by the window and watched him go. She cried a little. Boys like Charley were her weakness, and she was getting too much in love with him—foolish for a woman her age. But he had given her such a sweet kiss for keeping his pistol for him. What could she do but fall?
9
“If they catch us, Rose and me got our story worked out,” Beulah said, as they drove into Earlsboro. “We’ll say you’re white slavers, and you give us dope and brought us to Oklahoma against our will.
“Rose is under age, it might work,” she added.
“Don’t break no traffic laws—that’s important,” Billy Miller said.
“I thought we come here to shop,” Rose said. “Shop for what, corn-bread? I doubt this dump even has a five-and-dime.”
“It’s got a five-and-dime, and a dry goods store, too,” Charley assured her. “It’s a decent little town.”
“I’m sure it is, if you like cornbread,” Rose said. “Me, I’m a city girl from way back.”
It depressed Charley that nobody in the car had a good word to say about Oklahoma. To him, it seemed like a nice fall day. The sun was shining, and the wind wasn’t blowing too hard, and the leaves were pretty. Despite all this, his three companions had griped the whole way from Kansas City. Their yapping was beginning to get on his nerves. He was starting to wish he had left them in Kansas City, and robbed the bank by himself. He could just leave the motor running, dash in and dash out. Lulu Ash warned him against being greedy anyway.
“Just look at it as a living,” she said. “If you can get more than a few hundred and the law don’t wing you, you’re ahead.”
They pulled up in front of the dry goods store just as it opened, and let the girls out. The bank was right across the street.
“Don’t spend too much money,” Charley warned them. “We ain’t robbed the bank yet.”
“We’ll be lucky if we can spend two bits in this burg,” Beulah said.
Pretty Boy Floyd Page 13
