I’m Fixin’ To Play Dead (Part 37)

I’m Fixin’ To Play Dead (Part 37):

I had rescued Louise from that murdering, double-crossing thief, Red the taxi driver, and now it appeared she had returned the favor by rescuing me from the long arm of the law.

If she hadn’t of shown up twice back where Leon’s old truck had petered out on us, I would more than likely be sitting on a hard bunk in a small dark cell while the local cops were counting up my money from the antique tweed suitcase. However, thanks to her, we were both free again, at least for the time being.

“So you stole both of those cars?” I asked her. “How in the world did you do that?”

“I really liked that blue Camaro,” she replied. “But when I topped the hill and saw the situation you was in I knew I had to create a diversion, so I tagged that little fat cop’s car, raced back to the Wal-Mart parking lot, dumped the Camaro and picked up this baby—passed that cop on the way back to get you.”

I was astounded. “How in the world did you know how to do all that, and do it so fast?”

She chuckled before she said, “That’s how I used to make my living—stealing cars, and I was pretty good at it.”

“Evidently you’re still good at it,” I told her. “You saved my tail!”

“If I remember correctly, you did the same for me earlier today. In fact you did more. You saved me from being ravished and murdered.”

The contrast of our current ride compared to Leon’s old truck was stark. The Town Car hugged the curves and glided through the night with a smooth sound reminiscent of a swift wind blowing across a flat and silent lake as we descended deeper into the Black Belt of Alabama.

After a few miles of silence Louise broke it when she said, “I’m surprised they were already looking for the old truck way over here in the boonies.”

“No, it wasn’t that.” I explained, by telling her about switching tags in the parking lot before I left Biloxi.

The road was dark now except for the headlights of an occasional south-bound vehicle and a few twinkling lights from houses as we whisked by them. I looked at the multi-colored lights on the control panel, ran my hands over the smooth leather on my seat and said, “Wow, this sure is a nice car.”

“Punishment’s the same,” Louise said. “It don’t matter whether you steal a Taurus or a Town Car, get caught and you do the same amount of time. You need to help me watch my speed. You can get up to 90 in this baby before you know it. Other than that, you just sit back and relax.”

I tried to relax, but I couldn’t. I needed some normality back into my life. I wanted out of this stolen car and away from all the desperate people I had spent the last three days with. But where could I go and how could I travel? Maybe somewhere by bus, I thought, which prompted me to ask, “Listen, Louise, when we get to Montgomery—–”

“If we get to Montgomery,” she interrupted. “I figure it’ll take the cops about an hour to get out an all-points on this car, and that’s about how much longer it’ll take us to get there.”

“Well, if we make it, what I was gonna ask is if you would buy me a bus ticket?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” she answered. “Where you want to go to?”

“Anywhere a bus will take me. I sure can’t get on a plane with no kind of ID. If I only had a driver’s license I could get on with my plan.”

It was like Louise was thinking a few moments before she said, “If we make it to Montgomery, I believe I can make your wish come true. Besides a driver’s license I imagine we can get you a fake social security card, too.”

“How can you do that, who do you know there who can do that?”

“My baby sister lives there. We’ll get her to pick us up when we dump this car. We can stay at her place until we get things figured out while she’s getting those documents you need. She’s got some connections in the River City.”

The thought of sleeping in another trailer didn’t tickle my fancy at all, but if there was a chance of getting a fake driver’s license and social security card, then I would sleep most anywhere.

We had passed through Selma and turned east on Hwy. 80 when Louise said, “Next stop Montgomery. Only about 35 minutes away. We just got one minor little problem. We just about out of gas.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when we topped a rise and spotted a dimly lit, shabby little Fina Station up ahead. Louise asked me if I had $20 on me as she pulled up to the pumps. After I assured her I did, she asked me if I would run in and pay the clerk while she pumped the gas so we wouldn’t waste any time.

I was out of the car and just a fraction of an inch away from closing the car door when I realized the engine was still running. Then I heard the automatic door locks click down.

Something in my brain clicked at the same time, and in one swift motion I jerked the door back open, leaned in and took the keys from the ignition. I heard Louise emit a small gasp just before I slammed the door behind me. “Better to be safe than sorry,” I thought to myself as I entered the store.

After I paid, in my haste to exit, I swiftly turned and almost ran into large man, never dreaming that the next moment I was fixin’ to be standing nose-to-nose with an Alabama State Trooper.