by Amy Harmon
But there were other reasons to settle in St. Louis. Finn’s father had begged Finn to consider going to work for a St. Louis think tank closely associated with the math department at Washington University. It would mean time with his dad and a chance to put his genius to work. He was my Clyde—but there was enough Infinity to go around, and I could share. According to Finn’s father, the math community was a small one, and it didn’t care about socio-economic status, ethnicity, or even a prison record. If you could do the math—if you loved math—you were welcomed.
St. Louis was only four hours from Nashville, my record label, and my career, which Finn insisted I had to take ownership of. He said I was too brilliant and too destructive to sit still. I needed to be singing. It was what I was born to do. That, and love him. And this time, I couldn’t argue with Infinity.
HE WAS ASLEEP now, relaxed and loose, one big arm under his head, one thrown across my body. We hadn’t left the suite at all in two days. Food was brought in, clean sheets too, and we were officially holed up. Not because we had to be, but because we wanted to be. And right now, I didn’t want to sleep. I was too happy. I wanted to burrow into Finn, but I was restless, and I knew I would wake him up, so I slid out from under his arm and tiptoed to the sitting room and flipped on the television. It had kept me company while I’d waited for Finn, but we hadn’t watched it since. I had needed it to drown out the conversation in my head and the fear that he wasn’t coming back, and it was on way too loud.
I rushed to lower the volume but halted when I saw a familiar face fill the screen. And this time it wasn’t my own. And it wasn’t Finn’s either, thankfully. It was Shayna’s, and Katy sat at her side smiling shyly into the camera, a cute flowered hat on her head.
The camera cut away to a different scene almost immediately, and I realized I’d missed the point of Shayna’s appearance. Another interview, probably pre-recorded, between an older man and a boy and one of the E-Buzz reporters began. The old man told the reporter how “Bonnie and Clyde” had stopped when no when else would. He explained how we had followed him to make sure he and his grandson made it home safely, and he got a little choked up when he relayed that I had given his grandson money to help with repairs on his daughter’s van, unbeknownst to him. It was Ben and his grandfather!
My mouth fell open in amazement as another interview, this one apparently live, began.
“So you’re telling us that Bonnie and Clyde picked you up when you were hitchhiking?” the pretty blonde correspondent asked the afroed man with the grizzly beard and the oversized army coat.
“Yes, ma’am they did. And they treated me kind. They sure did. Miss Bonnie gave me food, and Mr. Infinity gave me his boots.” The camera panned down to his feet where, sure enough, William was displaying Finn’s old boots like they were the best gift he’d ever received.
“I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?”
I shrieked with laughter when William pulled the microphone from the reporter’s hand and got right up into the camera, preaching his favorite sermon with a voice worthy of a packed hall. He finished his scripture with a thrust of his dirty finger into the lens.
“And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me!’” William’s eyes were fierce on the lens as the reporter managed to retrieve her microphone.
“Thank you, William. Well, you heard it here, folks. Reports have been coming in from people who say they were helped or assisted or enriched by the cross-country flight of Bonnie and Clyde, ever since all charges were dropped and the two were released, separately, from LA County jail.”
“Praise the Lord for their release! God protects his servants!” William could be heard shouting in the background. Then his face filled the screen once more, blocking out the young reporter who had completely lost control of the situation.
“Miss Bonnie? If you is watchin’, listen up. I had a dream last night. A girl named Minnie and a boy named Fish—looked just like you and Mr. Infinity—they told me they is saving you two a big room in the Grand Hotel, but no hurry. You’ve got Infinity, and they’ve got each other. And Fish says, ‘Who’s the genius now?’”
The feed was cut and a commercial for a new season of Nashville Forever flashed across the screen, but I was too stunned to move.
“Bonnie Rae?”
Finn was standing behind me, his face lined with sleep, his body gloriously uncovered. He’d said my name, but his eyes were fixed on the TV—his expression incredulous.
I threw back my head and laughed. I could have danced around and said “I told you so,” but I didn’t. What William had just said was unbelievable. Impossible even. But, then again, he’d really said it all with a message on a little cardboard sign.
I believe in Bonnie and Clyde.
BEAR RECOVERED AND eventually got his car back, though I had already bought him a new one. As promised, he received a substantial raise and hazard pay, which he thought was funny, but Finn said was only fair, considering I was an accident waiting to happen. We also retrieved our belongings from the backseat, along with that cardboard sign I would have hated to part with.
I had it matted and framed, and it hangs in our house in St. Louis on a wall filled with pictures from the disposable camera Monique gave us on our wedding day. There are pictures of us at the wedding chapel in Vegas and standing beside the “Death Car” riddled with bullets in Primm. I even framed magazine clippings of us on the red carpet at the Academy Awards, along with copies of our mug shots because they made me laugh, and Finn hated them. I told him we were jailbirds and lovebirds, and it was funny. And he was the one who’d said, “Sometimes funny is all you’ve got.”
But we had a great deal more than funny, and I never wanted to take it for granted. That’s why, in the center of it all, I framed an enlarged, black and white photo of the original Bonnie and Clyde, arms around each other, standing against the backdrop of desperate times. And I framed Bonnie Parker’s words so I wouldn’t forget our own incredible journey and the vows that Finn and I had made. It was Bonnie’s version of ‘til death do us part.
“The road was so dimly lighted.
There were no highway signs to guide.
But they made up their minds,
If all roads were blind,
They wouldn’t give up 'til they died.”
And I planned on living a long, long time.
I THINK EVERY book is harder to write than the last. It’s a lonely occupation, the pressure increases, the expectations rise, and each time I know full well how much work it’s going to require, which is intimidating in itself. But I can’t think of anything else I would rather do. I love writing books that readers can sink their teeth into. I love learning new things, discovering hidden meaning, and falling in love with a whole new set of characters. But as lonely as writing can be, I couldn’t do it alone and need to acknowledge and thank some folks.
First off, I am not a mathematician. I had to read and study extensively to even begin to understand how someone like Finn thinks. Luckily for me, my mother IS a mathematician. She read Infinity + One before anyone else and made sure there wasn’t any fuzzy math, so to speak. I am so grateful for her insights and her brilliance; the book is dedicated to her because without her, there wouldn’t be a book.
I’d also like to thank my go-to guy, Andrew Espinoza, retired police sergeant, for patiently talking me through legalities and police procedures and helping me navigate so many unknown areas. I took creative license here and there, and any mistakes or elaborations are my own. Andy has answered my questions on my last three novels, and I am so grateful for his expertise.
Special thanks to Tamara Debbaut, who has proven to be an invaluable personal a
ssistant. In addition, a big thank you goes to Vilma Gonzalez for her superb organizational skills, her friendship, and her professionalism. To Karey White, a great author and editor, thank you for making Infinity + One sparkle. And, as always, I don’t know what I’d do without Julie Titus of JT formatting. She is my right hand in all my formatting needs and has become a valued friend. To the team at Dystel and Goderich, specifically Jane and Lauren, thank you for everything. To Rebecca Berto of Berto designs, thank you for the beautiful cover, you do fabulous work! Finally, thank you Lamine Kacimi for your management of my website. You have made my life so much easier.
To my beta readers on this project: Alice Landwehr, Emma Corcoran, Cristina Suarez-Munoz, Michelle Cunningham, Shannon McPherson and Vilma Gonzalez, big thanks, ladies. Beta reading is a hard job and an often thankless one. It takes courage to tell an author she stinks. *wink, wink*
To so many readers, bloggers, and authors out there who have welcomed me so kindly and who make this all possible, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I could start naming names, but would leave someone out, and would hate to do that. You all have my sincere and humble gratitude for your support with this new book and with past projects. Words just don’t suffice. Thank you.
The lyrics of the folk songs I included in Infinity + One are all public domain as well as the poetry written by Bonnie Parker—“Suicide Sal” and “The Story of Bonnie and Clyde,”—and no copyright infringement was intended. The song, “Infinity + One,” that Bonnie sang in the Albuquerque night club is a song I wrote for the book. The lyrics to “Machine” were written by Paul Travis and permission was granted to use his song in this story.
To my husband, Travis Harmon, and to my children – Paul, Hannah, Claire and Sam – thank you, my loves. Thank you for sharing me and putting up with me.
To my parents, siblings, in-laws, and friends – thank you for your support and for your enthusiasm.
And always, all gratitude for Jesus who pilots me.
AMY HARMON IS a USA Today and New York Times Bestselling author. Amy knew at an early age that writing was something she wanted to do, and she divided her time between writing songs and stories as she grew. Having grown up in the middle of wheat fields without a television, with only her books and her siblings to entertain her, she developed a strong sense of what made a good story. Her books are now being published in several countries, truly a dream come true for a little country girl from Levan, Utah. Amy Harmon has written five novels - the USA Today Bestsellers, Making Faces and Running Barefoot, as well as Slow Dance in Purgatory, Prom Night in Purgatory, and the New York Times Bestseller, A Different Blue. Her sixth novel, INFINITY + ONE, will be released in June, 2014.
For more information about Amy and her books, visit:
http://www.authoramyharmon.com/
https://www.facebook.com/authoramyharmon
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5829056.Amy_Harmon
https://twitter.com/aharmon_author
Other Titles by Amy Harmon:
Running Barefoot
Slow Dance in Purgatory
Prom Night in Purgatory
A Different Blue
Making Faces
