I’m Fixin’ To Play Dead (Part 55)

I couldn’t imagine any idea that Sissy might have in her pretty head that would clear Louise of the murder charge she was innocent of and still allow me to continue with my plan of playing dead.

So during the drive back to her house, after I had officially and semi-legally become a new person, or rather a dead person, Ralph T. Cooper to be specific, with a driver’s license and a social security card in my pocket to prove it, I asked Sissy if she would be good enough to expound on the details of how I could help Louise without exposing my self as a fraud.

“It’s real simple,” she told me.

“Okay, then let’s hear it,” I responded.

I heard her take a deep breath before she said, “You do both, go back and then come back.”

After pondering her words for a few moments I said, “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying, Sissy.”

“Okay, I’ll spell it out for you. What you can do is go back to being Todd Prescott long enough to tell everything you know, well, as much as you have to tell to spring Louise, and then—”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted, “I could do that but then I would be alive again and I couldn’t come back.”

“Sure you could,” she reassured me.

“Sissy, how in the world do you propose I could something like that?”

I was stunned when she said, “After you became Todd Prescott just long enough to spring Louise, you could disappear again and Ralph T. Cooper and I would be right here waiting on you.”

“I still can’t conceive of anyway we could pull off such a thing as that,” I told her.

“I know a way Sonny Boy, and I’ll help you if you’re game.”

I thought about if all for a while and decided it was the only way. I knew if I attempted to help Louise as Ralph T. Cooper that I would most assuredly be discovered as a phony; whereas if I just went and told the truth as my real self then Louise and I both would be set free. And afterwards, if Sissy could make me dead again I would be back where I wanted to be. The more I thought about it the more I was convinced. I would just have to trust Sissy.

“Okay, I’ll do it. How do I die the second time?” I asked her.

“We’ve got plenty of time to deal with that,” she responded. “There’s lots of other stuff we have to do first. You hungry?”

“I’m starving,” I admitted.

“You want to stop somewhere or go home and cook?” Sissy asked. But before I could answer she made the decision herself and we headed home.

I woke up the next morning trying to figure out what day it was. After thinking back I decided it must be Friday. Exactly a week ago after being the lone survivor of the plane crash, I had slept in Leon’s trailer, Saturday night in a motel in Atlanta, Sunday night in Red’s taxi, Monday night in the Beau Rivage in Biloxi, Tuesday night in a weedy ditch outside of Montgomery, then the next two nights here at Sissy’s house. Yes, it had to be Friday.

This time a week ago I had been bidding on used vans in Dallas before getting on board that ill fated flight. It seemed like it had been the longest and most difficult week of my life.

About that time Sissy’s lovely self popped through my bedroom door, and I thought it sure had ended well.

“Sonny Boy,” she said, “it’s time to get out of that bed. You were sleeping so soundly I hated to wake you up, but we have lots to do so you need to get up. It’s going on eleven o’clock!”

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll jump in the shower.”

“Be sure and dress nice,” she said.

“How come?” I asked.

From down the hallway she called back, “Because our first stop is fixin’ to be at the bank.”