In Style 4 Now

by Janet Leigh

  “Mitch says it's the best hooch he’s ever tasted. Isn’t that right?” Elma asked Mitch.

  “Sure is, sweetheart,” Mitch cooed, setting a crate down on the table and proceeding to stretch his smarmy self across the sofa.

  I glanced at her. Did she think Mitch was from this time? Was that his lie? Elma had to know he was a traveler. He wasn’t wearing a key, but Elma was a reader and she would have felt the connection. What kind of game was Mitch playing with my aunt? Elma went over to the sofa, leaned down, and stole a kiss from Mitch. She smiled as she walked back to the kitchenette to finish unloading the groceries. Maybe I should be asking what kind of game was my aunt playing with Mitch?

  My inner voice gave me a poke check. Bonnie was standing in front of me, hands on hips. She had asked me a question and was staring at me waiting for an answer. Elma stood curious, a jar of canned peaches in her hand, looking on from the kitchenette. She began putting the groceries away in a cupboard.

  “What did you say?” I blinked rapidly to focus back on the conversation.

  “Jennifer, you were having a spell. I asked what happened to your man, but your eyes were glazed over. My cousin suffers from the 'tism. You might have a touch of it. Have you seen a doc?”

  “I'm fine, my mind wanders a bit,” I explained.

  Mitch threw in his two cents from the sofa. “If she has the 'tism she shouldn't go on the bank job.”

  “Mitch's right,” Bonnie agreed. “If you have a spell, you can't drive the other car.”

  Good grief. I shot Mitch a dirty look. His mouth started in a slow devilish smile then spread wide across his face. The girls had their backs to him. He placed his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, and relaxed back on the sofa. The smile remained. I wanted to go smash my fist into his smug grin.

  “Here’s the first line of my poem, tell me what you think,” Bonnie said. “You've read the story of Jesse James Of how he lived and died. If you're still in need Of something to read, here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde.”

  “Sounds like a good start,” I said.

  “Maybe one day the whole world will know who I am.”

  I nodded. In less than a year her poem would be read in the newspapers in every household in America right next to her obituary. I glanced over at Mitch, and his eyes held mine. For a brief moment, the two of us shared the same thought. I might have imagined the flicker of remorse before he averted his eyes and I returned to help Elma.

  Elma cooked dinner in the small kitchenette. She fried up a chicken while Bonnie banged on her typewriter, no doubt adding the final touches to her famous poem. I had finished peeling the potatoes as Caiyan and Clyde returned from their scouting mission. From the looks of things, they had taken a jar of moonshine along with them. Clyde seemed sharp as a tack, but Caiyan's eyes were glassy. I knew he had a high tolerance for alcohol. It was unlike him to put the mission in jeopardy by overindulging.

  I explained about Ace.

  “How are we going to pull off the bank job without your boss?” Clyde asked.

  “Like I said before, he's not necessary,” Caiyan cut his eyes at me as if sending a secret message to Clyde to keep his imaginary backstabbing on the down low.

  “Then it's the three of us in the bank. Bonnie can drive our car. Jen can drive yours, and Elma can ride along and watch for the laws.” Clyde was getting excited about the plans he was making. “We can make a getaway out the back of the bank. There’s a road cuts right behind the bank. The girls can wait there for us.”

  Bonnie stopped pecking on the typewriter and asked to speak to Clyde in private. I knew she was going to tell him about my 'tism by the way she glanced at me then followed him outside.

  When they returned, the plans changed. Bonnie and Elma would drive the cars. I would ride with Elma and watch from a safe distance. The three men would break into the bank, crack the safe, and flee in the car driven by Bonnie. Elma and I were there as lookouts and in case they needed a backup. I started to protest, but Caiyan gave me a slight shake of his head. No sense in undercutting the boss's orders. I knew by 10 p.m. the next evening one of our cars would end up at the bottom of the Salt Fork branch of the Red River. I needed to make sure it contained the correct passengers.

  Elma announced dinner was ready, and we filled our plates with fried chicken, potatoes, and green beans. One last meal before we changed history.

  Elma and I pulled up across the street from the bank at 3 a.m. The streets were deserted. Clyde’s decision to break into the bank at this time of the morning was right on the money. The town folk had vacated the establishments of Fort Worth and gone home, tucked safely in their beds. Clyde’s other decision, thanks to Bonnie, put Elma at the wheel of our car. If I needed to grab Caiyan and flee the scene, I would have to deal with Elma. Considering my imaginary condition, I was now, in their eyes, a liability, and it would make sense to ditch me. Caiyan didn't make any noises otherwise.

  Clyde drove the getaway car to the bank. He parked in the back, and the three men exited the car. Bonnie moved into the driver’s seat and turned the car around pointing in the direction we came from. She parked down the street a ways, then flashed her lights at us. Elma flashed ours in return. If there were any pedestrians out this late they would notice a car sitting idle at the bank. At least they were robbing the place at night instead of in broad daylight. If all went well, only the history of a bank robbery would change in the future. No additional murders or catastrophes for Jake to try and make right.

  Caiyan convinced Clyde he could crack the safe. I’d seen Caiyan place his hands against a lock and it would tumble open. It was part of his gift. His aunt Itty could levitate small objects, a bit disturbing to have tea served from a floating teapot. I hoped his gift would work on a safe. If not, Caiyan needed me to secure Mitch and keep Bonnie and Clyde from killing him.

  Elma and I sat together in the car. The windows were rolled down and the warm summer night carried a gentle breeze into the car.

  “Are you and Mitch going to Oklahoma with the Barrow gang?” I asked.

  She cocked her head in my direction. “First, I have to return to my farm. Mitch is going to come with me.”

  What the hell? Why would Mitch tell her he was going home to meet mommy and daddy? Unless that was his plan all along. Mitch was going to screw my family up from the inside. Surely my great-great-grandfather would put a stop to it.

  “Mitch says we have a lot in common,” she paused. “He wants to be part of the Barrow gang, but I'm hoping to convince him crime doesn't pay.”

  “Uhm, he's robbing a bank,” I noted.

  “It'll put a little money in his pocket before he meets my pa. We just have to figure a way for him to leave without Clyde gettin' mad is all. Then he's going to ask Pa for my hand.”

  What kind of horse shit was Mitch feeding her? My mind began running through all the scenarios of how Mitch could screw up my life by marrying Elma. It was a good seventy years before he was born. Would he stay for a few years then split?

  “Jen, are you having another spell?” Elma asked. She reached out and touched my arm. A spark illuminated the car as she laid a hand on my skin.

  “Ouch,” she jerked her hand back and her eyes grew wide.

  “Gosh, the static electricity in the car is bad.” I rubbed my arm.

  She eyed me suspiciously and reached to touch me again, but a car drove past us, drawing her attention. The car pulled up in front of the bank and a tall, hippo of a man got out and waddled toward the door.

  “Who is that?” I asked, moving as far away from Elma as I could manage in the small car. What was this guy doing out at this early hour?

  “He's got keys in his hand,” Elma said. “We have to warn the others.”

  Elma gunned the engine and drove to the rear of the bank. I jumped from the car and hightailed it to the back door. Elma threw the car into park and followed me. As I reached for the handle, Bonnie got out of her car and aimed a shotgun at us.

 
; “Whatcha'll doing?” she hollered at us, and I froze.

  “There's a man coming in the front,” Elma told her. “We gotta warn the men.”

  “We might get caught,” Bonnie stalled.

  What kind of outlaw was she? Before it was all Clyde and I are going down together and now she was afraid to open the back door of the bank and holler at the men to skedaddle?

  I took a chance she wouldn't shoot me. Yanking open the door, I ran into the bank as the man rattled the keys in the front door.

  “Incoming!”

  Mitch's head popped up from behind the teller window. He was prying the drawer open with a crowbar. The man entered the bank, switched on the lights, and saw me standing in the center of the lobby. “Lady, what are you doing here?”

  Mitch traded his crowbar for a rifle and slid across the counter, stopping the man from leaving. The man raised his arms in the air.

  “Are y'all Bonnie and Clyde?”

  “That's right,” Bonnie said, entering the room behind me and leveling her shotgun at him. “Except, I'm Bonnie Parker.”

  “Don't kill him,” I said to Mitch. I heard Elma gasp from behind me as she watched Mitch hold the gun on the man.

  “Mitch, he's an innocent,” Elma said.

  “He's a witness,” Bonnie chimed in. “Go on, kill him.”

  She wasn't so worried now that someone else was doing the shooting. She liked the headlines, but she didn't like getting her hands dirty.

  The man turned white and began begging for his life.

  “Shut up,” Mitch gave the guy a right hook with the butt of his gun and the man went lights out. He crumpled to the bank floor.

  Clyde burst from the vault followed by Caiyan. They stopped short when they saw the man.

  “I told Mitch to kill him,” Bonnie said.

  “We have to take him with us, he's a witness,” Clyde said.

  “He'll be out for a couple of hours. Plenty of time for us to make a getaway. You should leave him,” I said.

  Clyde's chest puffed, and he pointed the gun at me. He was the leader, and he wanted to make the decisions. “I said we're taking him.”

  Caiyan stiffened and angled in behind Clyde. He was ready to disarm him if things got ugly.

  “Put the guy in my car,” Caiyan suggested. “I can drop him off in a field somewhere. It'll be morning before he gets back to town and calls the coppers.”

  “Load him,” Clyde ordered. “You,” He pointed at Caiyan. “Drive the car and dispose of him and get rid of that baggage we talked about earlier. Elma will come with us. We'll meet you back at the motor court.”

  “Was it a good take?” Bonnie asked Clyde.

  “It was the easiest job we ever made. Caiyan opened the safe as if he had the combination tucked away in his pocket.”

  Clyde was clearly enthralled with his good fortune. He opened the bag, and Bonnie peered inside.

  “Ooh-wee! There must be thousands here,” Bonnie said, scooping up a handful of money.

  “More than I've ever seen before.” Clyde smiled, and they kissed. “Caiyan has a talent for safecracking. We'll be able to hit bigger banks.”

  Caiyan's face seemed bemused, almost proud of his skill set.

  Mitch and Caiyan struggled to load the unconscious man in the back seat while Bonnie and Clyde held the guns and watched our backs. Mitch gave a grunt and propped the man against the rear passenger door.

  “Damn, he’s a big fucker,” he said, climbing out of the car.

  Caiyan folded the man’s tree trunk legs into the backseat. He came around the car and took the driver's seat. I slid in next to him. Clyde peeled out toward the motor court, leaving Caiyan and me to dispose of the unconscious hippo, who started snoring heavily in the backseat.

  As we left the city, the roads went from a newly constructed highway to an asphalt county road in need of repair. The car bumped along on the uneven pavement as we searched for a place to drop our cargo. There were no street lights to show us the way, only the headlights from our car. Caiyan took the roads faster than I liked, but I knew time was crucial. The wreck happened in less than twenty-four hours.

  “You are the baggage I'm supposed to get rid of,” he said, turning toward me. “I'm taking you to Stella's.”

  “You can't do that. We're running out of time. The accident happens tonight. It’s a half a day’s drive to Wellington on these roads. You need me if things get out of hand at the accident site.”

  “Yer right, I do need you,” he said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. His tone indicated he meant more than for this mission.

  I scooted in close. We hadn’t been alone together since Stella’s room at the Terrace. He placed a hand on my knee as he tried to maneuver the car. His touch brought a calm sensation to my skin. He either wasn’t worried or he was blocking his feelings from me, and that worried me.

  “We must go back to the motor court and make sure my aunt isn't in that car when it leaves here.”

  “If it leaves here.”

  Caiyan ran a finger down my cheek, then wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled my mouth to his. We hit a pothole, jolting us apart. The man in the back seat groaned and the side door flew open. The man tumbled ass over elbows out into the road. Caiyan swerved trying to avoid the man and brought the car to a stop. We scrambled out and ran back to where we had lost our passenger. The man was lying face to the sky in the center of the road.

  Caiyan surveyed the situation. “So that's why they call them suicide doors.”

  The doors to the Fords opened opposite from the cars of present day. Getting out without face planting was a feat.

  “What should we do?” I asked.

  “We're not far enough away from the bank. Grab his legs and let's put him back in the car.” I grabbed his feet and Caiyan slipped his arms under the man’s shoulders and wrapped them around his chest. We hauled the dead weight a few feet to the side of the road. Most of the man’s weight was focused in the midsection, making it difficult to lift him off the ground. I dropped his legs. “Mitch was right, he is a heavy fucker.”

  As soon as I said the words, headlights beamed at us from an oncoming car.

  “Change of plans—let's get out of here!” Caiyan yelled. We bolted for the Ford and left our hostage for roadkill.

  Chapter 22

  I kept an eye out for the police on our way back to the motor court. A couple driving a stolen Ford close to a town where a bank was recently robbed—and its employee found concussed in the street—didn’t make a good argument if we were pulled over.

  As we approached the motor court, Caiyan ordered me to get down on the floorboard. He spotted Mitch sitting on a tree stump close to the entry of the motor court. He was probably assigned lookout duty. Clyde wanted me out of the picture, and the moon cycle was ending soon. If Mitch intended to stay, he would suffer the harsh consequences of staying during a travel, but it only lasted a few days. He could play it off as an illness. After that he had thirty days to screw up my life before the WTF could try again, unless I stayed too. The thought gave me a shudder to my very core.

  “Are ye alright there, lass?”

  “Fine, I just wish I knew Mitch’s game plan.”

  “Aye, would make the job easier. Let’s focus on the key and worry aboot what he wants with Elma when the reason comes to light, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Caiyan parked the car, leaving the driver’s side window down so the cool night air would flow into the car.

  “Keep oot of sight. I’ll come get ye when it’s clear.”

  The door to Clyde’s cabin opened as Caiyan shut the car door.

  “Were you followed?” Clyde’s voice moved closer to the car, and I prayed he wouldn’t open the door.

  “No tail as far as I could see.” Caiyan’s head disappeared from my view as he met Clyde between the two cabins. The change from his native Scot to the southern drawl was smooth as silk.

  “Did you get rid of your p
assengers?”

  “Left them in a cornfield,” Caiyan replied.

  The car was angled slightly, and I peeked out through the passenger window. The lack of commercial lighting kept the car in the shadows and my eavesdropping concealed. Clyde had his back to me.

  “Did you kill the girl?” He asked Caiyan.

  “I’ve wanted to strangle her from the moment we met.”

  Clyde nodded approvingly.

  I huffed quietly to myself. I’d show him how to strangle someone. My inner voice whipped off her decorative scarf and made a noose.

  “Get some shut-eye, then you’ll take your turn at lookout. I figure the laws’ll be lookin’ for us in Fort Worth for a good bit. If we leave around noon for Oklahoma to meet up with my brother, that’ll be time enough for us to get rested before the coppers start sniffin’ in our direction. Be packed and ready, and I don’t mean clothes.” Clyde made a gun with his index finger and thumb, then gestured at Caiyan.

  Perfect. If they left at noon that ought to put them in the vicinity of the wreck about the right time, pending stops for food and gas. I had to separate Elma from the gang of thieves.

  The door to Clyde’s cabin opened and Bonnie and Elma came out. Elma’s gaze roamed the parking lot and I ducked back to the floorboard.

  “Where’s Jennifer?” She asked.

  “She’s had to leave us. Gonna meet back up with her fella.” Clyde grabbed Bonnie around the waist and scooped her up into his arms. “Let’s go celebrate, doll.”

  He carried her over the threshold of their cabin. After a productive bank robbery, I guessed Clyde got a little frisky.

  “I don’t think it’s right not giving Jennifer her share, but I’m not arguing with Clyde.” Elma yawned and stretched. “I’m takin’ the bed, you can have the couch,” she said to Caiyan.

  I gave a soft laugh. Elma was setting the boundaries. I would have loved to see the look on Caiyan’s face. Not many women told him to sleep on the couch.

  I extended my legs across the front seat and tried to get as horizontal as possible. Caiyan had left the keys hanging in the ignition. People were simple in this time, much like the car I was currently using as my hideout. The dash had a large speedometer. There wasn’t a navigation system, or six digital screens telling you everything you needed to know to drive it to the moon and back. Caiyan didn’t have to hot wire or break open the steering column to start the car. The owner had simply left the keys in the ignition. Simple times.