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THE SAME WHISKEY
It was raining on the day I first met him, way back in the fall of ‘88, absolutely pouring down. Well, I say met him, we just happened to be in the same bar at the same time drinking the same whiskey and trying to forget about different girls, listening to the rain beat down on the corrugated tin roof of the Recoil Bar and Grill. I don’t even recall what it was that first made me speak to him but I offered a drink and he accepted and the evening went on until man and barstool parted company and the floor came to meet him. I hauled him back up looped his arm around my shoulder, unsteadily walked him out and laid him in the flat bed of my old pick up to sleep it off while I climbed in front and made myself as comfortable as I could.
Before I go on I should probably tell you a bit about me. I was born in the back of nowhere, in the middle of a tornado, my dad had left shortly after I was conceived and mom was staying with her family in the small town of Sterling Colorado, I came along as the tornado hit and took my first breath of the stagnant air inside the storm bunker on the 23rd of august ’62. I didn’t really do the whole school thing, even in junior high I was always cutting out and riding my bike down to the Lazy River to fish or shooting rabbits in the 6 acre wood with my brother jimmy. We weren’t well off and the hunting provided the little meat or fish we needed to survive, skills that would serve me well in the years to come, better than learning algebra in the school ever did.
After high school I fell into various manual labor jobs and then fell back out of them generally after acrimonious disagreements with foremen or fellow workers but often cos it was just time to go. I’d collect my check on a Friday and by Saturday night I’d be propping up a barstool in the next tow, the next county, the next state. I’ve been drifting from here to there for most of my time and when I do sit still I only last a few months before my feet start to itch and I hit that asphalt again for the next adventure, the next kick, the next alley full of trash. Springsteen on the car tape box, windows down, heading out of town on the nearest highway. Its just the way that I, Joseph L Patience. Live this life that has been put out for me, the only way I know.
Anyways, enough of me, you’ll learn plenty more of that in the coming few pages. Let me tell you about Sam, Sam Bateman, a tower of a man. 6’7 sitting down and half as wide as he is tall with a heart the size of Arkansas and a temperament like the southern wind that blows across the plains of Texas. He’s a smart guy too, smarter than most people give him credit for. Other folks just see his size and that hang dog expression of his framed with greasy black hair and think he’s stupid, but Sam is a learned guy, he reads books, the sorts of books, I don’t even understand the title of. Every town we stop in he stops at the thrift store, leaves the books he’s read and picks up four or five more, sometimes on the road we don’t even talk, he just settles into his book and a couple of hours later he’ll look up and just say simply in that Nebraskan drawl “piss stop at the next one if you don’t mind Joe”. He’s content to fill his head with words and im content just driving. That’s just the way he is, always polite always thinking bout this and that, weighing up the possibilities, working out what’s right. A man you can trust and seeks only the same in a kinship.
We first started traveling together back in ’89, mostly in the old pick up I had managed to keep on the road despite itself, but when that gave up the ghost somewhere outside Farmington New Mexico we carried on riding the freight wagons, hitching rides where we could and walkin where we couldn’t. It was somewhere near South Bend Indiana in a crumbling motel run by a crazy old Norwegian called Hangsträäm who had an impressive array of firearms that we first formulated the plan that would change both our lives forever…and the lives of a good few innocent bystanders too.
The thing about banks is that they are full of money and when you personally don’t have a tin pot to piss in you are naturally drawn to thinking of banks just like the honey bee thinks of nectar, just as the dog bites the fleas on its ass… So, its midnite. Sam and I are in this run down shack hotel drinking a fifth of uncle jacks and we get to talking about ways to make a million. We’ve gone through the usual legal channels, lottery tickets (14 million to one shot), inventing something brilliant and selling the patent (such as what?), investing our life savings in future bonds on the Dow Jones index (as previously alluded too. Pot. Piss in. none! And we don’t have a decent suit of clothes between us!) And we’ve finally arrived at the point where legalities take one fork in the road and the plan takes the other. We start talking about banks and the best ones to hit. Sam says a city bank where there’s a guaranteed big return, maybe a small city like Grand Rapids or Louisville. To which I point out that city banks are wired tighter that a teenagers jaw with more hard steel than the whole of a Detroit automobile plant. I say hit a country bank or a few country banks, smaller return, less chance of getting our heads blown off or ending up in Attigan for 12 to 25.
‘We’re gonna need a driver too’ says Sam as he hits a slug of whiskey
‘Hell Sam, we’re gonna need a car ‘fore we need a driver’
‘Aint that a fact Joe, aint that a fact!’
We laugh, it just seems to be a drunken conversation at the moment but I can tell by the gleam in his eye and the way he keeps gazing into the middle distance that there’s something in the idea for him and I feel pretty much the same, neither of us are getting any younger and the road takes its toll as the years wear away the shoes and the sun and rain turns your skin to leather. The whiskey is getting low now and as the Indiana moon creeps across the sky like a hardball sailing in super slow mo across a sea of tar I lie back in the cot and light up a camel, taking a long slow pull on the rich tobacco and exhaling a stream of blue smoke. With a sigh, I think back to everything from the road I’ve traveled over the years, the dead end jobs and fruitless love affairs and forward to the plan that just hatched in our minds, and the possibility of a better life, spending the money in my head and thinking of the golden sands and beach bars of Cuba, a real modern day Hemmingway, and to the quiet strains of sams light snore I myself fall under sleeps wing for another night.
Cold light of morning and the whiskey isn’t sitting well. I leave Sam sleeping and hit the diner on Washington Avenue. The waitress is pretty, mid twenties with the kind of ass to make the happiest guy in the world just that little bit happier, she has that typical waitress ‘I’m being nice but I don’t give a fuck really’ demeanor. I order New York eggs and coffee, speaking from behind my hand slightly cos I don’t wanna gas the poor girl with 9 hour old whiskey breath. I go to the john, piss and wash my face and by the time I sit back down there’s two perfect eggs sat on English muffin with bacon and hollandaise sauce and a steaming pot of hot coffee. A perfect start to the day… and the coffee is good. As I gaze across the lot toward the avenue my mind drifts back to the previous evening and the grand plan to set Sam and I up for life. It still seems real, which surprises me. You know those drunken plans; they always disappear in the morning, well not this one. No sir, this one stuck. Joseph L Patience and Samuel Bateman. Drifters, book readers and robbers of banks. The waitress is watching me from the corner of her eye, she thinks I don’t like the breakfast, far from it, its delicious, I have just forgotten to eat for a few minutes as my mind is just totally preoccupied by the idea of hitting a bank and getting the hell off of the road for good. Neil young’s ‘tired eyes’ comes on the jukebox and breaks my hypnosis and I return to my eggs just as the shadow of Sam slopes through the door.
‘Morning ma’am, I’ll take what my friend here ordered and bring over some fresh coffee for the boths of us if you’d be so kind’
‘You got it, take a seat, I’ll be right over’
‘Thank ya kindly miss, looks like another fine Indiana day’
‘Sure does sir’
I’ve been watching this from the corner. It never ceases to amaze me how Sam can be just so disarming in conversation with anyone he meets, im far more guarded, far more unwilling to let those people in, oh sure, I think im polite enough I just hold stuff back whereas my partner is very much a ‘what you see is what you’ get kinda fella. Part of why we travel together I guess, a good team, which all bodes well for our future career.
‘So pardner, how does the morning find ya? You rose up pretty early what with all the whiskey we drank and all’ says Sam with his usual ebullience
‘I been thinking bout what we said last night Sam’ I say, avoiding his eyes as I broach the topic. ‘And I think we may have the beginnings of a plan that could make our lives a whole bunch easier’
‘ I hear you man’ says he, ‘I been giving it some mind time too, what have we got to lose, we cant work for the logging company much past the October snows and im not sure this old body can last much longer doin that kinda work I say we start planning this thing and get it done ‘fore its too late’
Well, it must have made an impression, there’s a definite twinkle of mischief in those old brown eyes today and I can tell he’s got the bug’
‘Here you go fellas’ the waitress says as she sets down sams eggs and a fresh pot of hot coffee’
‘Thank you kindly once again ma’am’ says Sam
‘You’re welcome, can I get you boys anything else’
‘I think we’ll be just fine from here on in miss, thank you’
There he goes again with the politeness. I just sat there grinning like a fool and thinking bout her perfect ass.
And hour later we are back at the motel sat around a three legged rocky table with a piece of paper and a cheap ball point trying to formulate the plan in to some Kinda cohesive course of action. There isn’t much written on the paper yet.
Another hour of talk and Sam has come round to my way of thinking as regards city or country banks. He says country banks will still have armed guards and bullets are bullets when they hit you in the back but I point out that the ratio of guards and security measures to bank robbers will be considerably lower in a smaller town and reluctantly he agrees that it’s the best way forward. We get out the map and decide to head south again into the lower Midwest. First we need a car, between us we have about $900 in pay checks from the past week, it aint gonna buy a Mustang Sally but it should get us something mobile enough to pull the first job, im pretty handy with a torque wrench and I think I can tune a wreck just right to get us a long way from our benefactors shop when the time comes.
In the afternoon we take a bus out to the McCormick Auto Company on South Michigan and take a look at what’s on offer. We have a choice, its either a blue 1987 Toyota that runs good but is full of holes or a 92 GM that used to be a salesmen’s car and has about a million miles on the clock. We settle for the Toyota and after a bit of haggling secure the deal for $300. Im happy, Sam’s happy (mainly cos the thrift store across the street had two Irving Walsh novels he hadn’t read) and Harry McCormick seems over the moon to have got this piece of shit off his forecourt! two miles down the road we lose the rear fender and Sam has to stop reading and go pick it up off the street and thread it in through the rear window…which only opens one side so we ride back to the Super 8 Motel with the darned fender hanging out the window and clanking around every time we hit a bump or take a corner, damn near taking my head off at one point. Its hilarious and we are both laughing our heads off at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. It wouldn’t be the best start to our new career if we got busted by highway patrol after owning the getaway car for 25 minutes, but we make it back and I set about fixing her up. I changed the oil (that pleased Mr. Hangsträäm ‘mind jou clean up zees mess eh’) checked the water, did the tires and cleaned the air filters…oh and refitted the rear fender and once I was done she was like a new car. Well, maybe not ‘new’ new but roadworthy at least. Sam settled the check with old man Hangsträäm and we hit the road at dusk…headin south on i-65 into the badlands
Chapter two
The sun was just creeping up over the Indianapolis skyline as we approached town from the north. The city looked like something from the movies with its towers reflecting the early light against a darkened sky. A cop screamed past us, must have been doing 70, lights flashing sirens wailing and I doubled my concentration on the road lest we get pulled over. The sirens woke Sam from his sleep and he yawned and asked the time.
‘5.30 am Sam my good man’ said I with hope and optimism born of exhaustion. ‘Gonna have to stop for a ‘wake me up’ soon’
‘I hear ya, I need to piss and I gotta get my teeth cleaned, feels like something died in my mouth a week back, hey, where the hell are we anyhow’
‘just hitting Indianapolis Sam, I been drivin all night, y’all might have to take the wheel soon im about finished’
We stopped for coffee and donuts at a diner on the outer ring before making out way counter clockwise to pick up the 70 that would take us down to St Louis and the Midwest beyond. Sam said we should have just carried on the 65 down to Louisville and hit Fort Knox. To which I replied that we shouldn’t run before we could walk and certainly not try a marathon before we could stand up!
The land around here is just so flat and sparse, miles upon flat miles of farm fields dotted with small towns, none of which had a bank, and if they did it probably only contained about 75 bucks in quarters on a good day. In the light of the morning we see only a handful of cars, most heading into Indy and a few trucks steaming down to St Louis. Just east of Effingham Illinois the engine starts to shudder and I pull in for gas and park up to check the engine, seems the head gasket is shot and we left a trail of oil for 600 miles from South Bend to here…not the sort of thing you look for in the perfect get away vehicle. I speak to the auto mechanic who tells me yeah, he can get the part but its gonna take a day for it to arrive from Louis. I shrug, what’s gotta happen gotta happen and we hop a lift from his apprentice into town.
The following morning, true to his word Max the mechanical genius had replaced the head gasket and in no time we are zipping down i70 bypassing St Louis and heading out over the great farm plains of Missouri. I decided to take the slightly perilous decision to let Sam drive for an hour or so. Now, Sam and cars are an interesting combination, he drives like he lives his life with politeness and consideration…until there is no one to be polite and considerate to…then all hell lets loose and the pedal hits the carpet. Sam is what you’d call an enigmatic driver. There wasn’t much on the freeway that day, we zipped across the plains at about 80, I was lost in my own thoughts, thinking of banks and Cuba and Darlene, a girl I dated for a while in Kansas City. The great wide-open spaces and huge corporate farms of Missouri tore past, Sam softly singing along to the heartbreakers on the radio and me drifting off into a world of my own
‘You wanna stop sometime soon Joe? I need a drink, and my jeans feel like they’re just about to ignite around where they meet in the middle’
I zapped back to consciousness from my part daydream part catnap
‘Sure buddy, whenever you’re ready, lets crash for the nite somewhere this side of KC’
Sam pulled the Toyota off the highway and we parked up at a truck stop in the small community of Lee’s Summit just southeast of Kansas City. We hit the fried chicken shack and 7-11 and got us a 5th of jack and settled back for the night. Drinking and playing cards, on a makeshift table between the front seats made from a doubled over mobile roadmap and an old dunkin donuts carton. It didn’t take long for the whiskey to start talking and pretty soon we were back on the subject of liberating greenbacks from the clutches of Uncle Sams banking system.
‘I say we forget Wichita and hit somewhere like Dodge or Garden City, get what we can and make a straight run down through the panhandle and into New Mexico’
‘Aww Joe, ya keep doin this to me man, the banks are getting smaller the further west we go’
‘I know Sam but neither of us wants to get dead and the smaller the town the better chance we have of getting out alive, besides we just don’t have the fire power, hell we don’t even have one piece between us’
‘Ah,’ said Sam with a wry grin and reached into his old bag, he pulled out an oily rag and unwrapped a smith and Wesson 38 special, my jaw dropped…
‘Sam? Where the hell…’
‘ I lifted it from old man Hangsträäm while he was writing out the receipt, he’s sure gonna be pissed when he sees its gone, but hey, we’re bank robbers right, gonna need a shooter, even if it is just a Saturday nite special’
‘Buddy, you never cease to amaze me’ I said laughing as I flipped the clip open and checked the barrel. ‘We’ll need to get some more shells but this, Sam, was one hell of a smart move, Hangsträäm got so many pieces he wont notice this is gone till we’re half way to Mexico City’
‘So, now we’re real bank robbers hey Joe, I say we get this shit done as soon as the locks click tomorrow’
‘Whoa, slow down partner, lets not rush this thing, lets get down there, spend a day or so casing the bank, the town and working out how the hell we can put as much distance between the state troopers and us once we have the loot’
‘Yeah man, you’re right, im just kinda itchy now I wanna get this job done and get someplace nice’
‘Look Sam, we gotta play this cool man. The shooter is the last resort and even then just to scare folks, I don’t wanna be killin no one for a few thousand bucks’
I guess you’re right Joe, I don’t wanna be killin no folks either’
And with that we returned to the game, I was holdin a pair of jacks, I had a feelin Sam had a flush but he wasn’t giving me anything so I called and beat his pair of 9s taking the grand pot of five bucks. We spent the rest of the evening just smoking camels and shooting the breeze, talking about lost loves and lost towns along the road and as the whiskey dwindled to a memory we settled back in the soft Toyota seats and drifted off into our own thoughts.
Chapter three
Friday 10am and we’ve been on the road for an hour already, still on i70 heading west through Topeka, Junction City and Salina, where we take the exit and start making our way south west to Dodge and Garden City. The sun is blazing in the late July sky and the fields are turning to dust for another summer, huge irrigation wheels spin slowly in a vain attempt to beat the sun, and farm trucks are the only vehicles on the road apart from this little blue Toyota with a couple of half starved hung-over bums burning down the dusty blacktop between the rows of corn and wheat fields. By 1pm we’ve hit the outskirts of Great Bend, the next town north of Dodge, we pull in for gas and get some sandwiches at the local diner.
‘Well Joe, this is it, next stop Dodge fuckin City’
‘Sure is buddy, now lets just play this scene out nice and cool for a day or so, see how this country works, I aint been down this way for nigh on 8 years so I just wanna take a look see before anything else.’
‘We gotta change the damn plates on this car too Joe, we’re still riding on Indy tags’
‘Good thinking Sam, we’ll do it tonite, get some fresh ones in a truck stop or something. Maybe we should head over Wichita way to do that. What you think’
‘Yeah man, bigger the town the less they’ll be missed’
So at 9pm we hit the streets of Wichita Kansas parked the Toyota and armed with a screwdriver and a pry bar went to find us some Kansas plates, we’d have to change them again when we got to New Mexico but for the purpose of the plan Kansas plates were the order of the day. We found a near identical blue Toyota in a parking lot in the Meadow town area and within 15 minutes we were back in the car and driving out of Wichita heading once again towards Dodge with a full set of state plates. We stopped at Fallons all nite Diner at Greensburg parked up behind a couple of eighteen-wheelers, changed the plates and hit the bar for the rest of the evening. The whiskey was flowing and the band was kicking some ass on stage. We sat at the bar, just drinking, not really talking, Sam was doing his charm offensive on the waitress but she’d seen too many Sams in her 20 something life to be taken in by a bit of smooth talking flattery. Guess it was gone midnite by the time we got back to the Toyota to get some sleep.
Chapter 4
We parked the car in a lot on Water Street about a quarter mile from the Sunshine bank in South Dodge and walked down North Second Avenue to have a look see, it looked just perfect to hit, drive through, modern building, set away from residential properties and an easy exit out of town to the south. I went in got some brochures on accounts and spoke to the girl on reception;
‘Good morning sir, how may I help’?
‘Hi, how you doin this fine day, beautiful sunshine out there. Im new to Dodge and am looking in to moving my accounts to a local bank, do you have some information I could take away’
‘Certainly sir, just take a seat and I’ll go find you some’
While she was away from the desk I took a good look around, open counters with no sign of drop down screens, one security guard, an old black guy who if his name badge was to be believed was called George Summers, basic security on the swing door with no sign of automatic lock downs and high level windows to ensure a nice private hit.
‘Here you go sir, we have three types of account I think will suit you…’
blah blah blah, she’d lost my interest, I’d already got what I came for but I feigned attention and 10 minutes later I was out of there with the information I needed stored inside my head. I nodded to George on the way out; he smiled and held the door for me as I left. What a guy.
Sam and I spent the rest of the day in the north of the city at Hams Bar and Grill on the corner of Jewel and Central. It was a pretty lively place, about 3pm a fight broke out, someone hurled a bottle which missed Sams nose by a couple of inches and shattered into the wall just beyond the bottles on the back bar Sam must have seen it coming cos he merely swayed back, let it pass and swayed right on back again or maybe that was just the miraculous properties of fine Tennessee Whiskey. The bar tender must have figured that was enough cos he ducked down then launched himself on to the bar top with a well used Louisville slugger in his right hand and blew the loudest whistle I ever heard.
‘Right you folks quit ya fussin or get the hell out of here, there’s decent folks trying to take a drink who don’t need your shit’
Everyone stopped, their fighting, the two main guys stared each other down but unhanded each other and disappeared to separate parts of the bar. The bar keep waited a while then hopped down
‘Charlie, get a broom and clear this shit up would ya, I’ve had it up to here with these guys everyone just behave yourselves or I’ll ban the lot of ya, every other day you come in smash up my goddamned bar and im sick of it ya hear me, sick of it, sick of you goddamned cowboys’
He pulled the register and disappeared out back to calm down and probably put the cash in the safe. I looked at Sam, Sam looked back and we burst out laughing
‘Dodge city man, Dodge fuckin city…still thinks it’s in the movies or summat’
We grabbed our drinks and headed for a table away from the main bar and the rest of the customers.
I told Sam about the lay out of the bank, security and escape routes, we agreed that he’d do the talking (I figured he could open with a charm offensive and then get down to business) and I’d hold the piece and keep everything nice and cool while we made our withdrawal. We still had no third man so we figured we’d leave the Toyota in the lot out back of the Sunshine bank with the engine idling, get in, get out again and high tail it to the panhandle. In my head everything was workin out just fine…
A couple of girls at the bar were lookin over with side long glances and giggling behind their hands, I figured it was Sam the were interested in but the brunette came over with her mousy blonde friend slightly hanging behind
‘Mind if we join you boys’
‘Sure honey, take a seat’ said Sam ‘Kinda lively in here today huh’
‘Aww, don’t mind them guys, they’re always the same, they’ll be just fine when they’re back on the farm tomorrow’
The brunette, Katie, sat down on my side of the stall, pretty close seeing as we’d just met and her friend Carolina took the seat next to Sam, we ordered more drinks and got to talking bout life the universe and everything. We were careful not to elaborate too much about why we were in Dodge, just sayin we were passing through on the way to Denver to visit my Mother. They were good company, and it was a welcome relief to have someone else to talk with apart from Sam, he’s a great man but conversation isn’t his strong point and hey, it had been a while since either of us had been with women so all in all it turned out to be a pretty good day. Sam had his arm around Carolina and Katies hand had rested on my knee and stayed there. We were all getting Kinda drunk by this time and the whiskey had loosened the screws at the back of the tongue and by the time the bartender called time we were getting on just fine. Carolina had an apartment just down the street about a block so we got a fifth and went back to her place. Hey, we’d been on the road a long time it was time for a little rest and recuperation and the bank weren’t goin no place. So, there we were, two bums with aspirations to be bank robbers and two Midwest good time girls making out and drinkin whiskey till the sun rose and we all passed out.
The next day never really happened in our career as bank robbers, I rose at noon and went to the store to get some bacon for breakfast and by the time I returned with the groceries the others were up and drinkin coffee, I don’t really suffer with hangovers through years of practice but the girls were pretty much done in and even Sam seemed pretty subdued. We ate the bacon and eggs and just spent the day relaxing and watching old movies, making out and just shooting the breeze, it was a Wednesday after all, I’d always figured the best day to hit a bank was Thursday or Friday when the pay checks came in…Wednesday money would still be going the wrong way. I pulled Sam to one side while the girls were out of the room doing some womanly thing and said
‘Hey Sam, lets take it easy today man, not go getting all drunk and shit. We lost a day and that’s fine but we need to get this done tomorrow or Friday and we cant let these two ladies get too close. Its all about not making too much of a trail man, y’know’
‘Yeah Joe, I get ya, kinda sad really cos im sweet on Carolina but I guess you’re right’
‘You aint said nothing have you Sam?’ I asked with sudden concern
‘Aww Joe, I aint soft in the head, y’know that, lets just enjoy the rest of the time we have and get down to business tomorrow ok’
Chapter 5
Thursday morning, we woke refreshed, took showers and ate breakfast. It’s amazing how good food, a nice hot shower and the company of a good woman can cleans the mind and soul enough to face even the biggest challenge. We kissed goodbye to the girls and promised we’d call back in after we’d been to Denver, seemed like a good idea to let them know we were heading east. There were tears and fond farewells, I think they knew they wouldn’t see us again but I guess that’s just the way that it is in small town America, guys drift in to town then drift straight back out and any girl who aint married by the time she’s twenty one better just drift on with them or face up to a life of transitory men folk. Anyhow, we parted on good terms and we headed back across town to get the Toyota.
‘Well Joe, this is it then, you think we’re ready’
‘Hell yeah course we are Sam, we both know what we’re gonna do, lets just do it, remember nice and calm, nice and easy then get the hell out of there’
A steely adrenaline rush pulsed in my veins and even Sam seemed to be walking faster than his usual strolling gait permitted. At about 8.45 we picked up the car and headed downtown, I stopped outside a surplus store and Sam went in, picked up a pair of army balaclavas and we parked up about a block from the Sunshine bank, ironic cos Kansas was seeing its first rains in a month and that Midwestern rain don’t let up easy once its begun.
At 9.30 we hit the bank…I left the Toyota running in the parking lot out back and we stole round the corner, Sam went in first, I could see him talking to the Teller and as soon as I saw the five fingers flash behind his back I pulled my facemask on and burst through the door with the gun raised like Hannibal Hayes in that old TV show.
‘Everybody get down and no-one gets hurt, you too George get on the floor there’s no need to take a bullet for this tin pot bank, no heroics ok old timer’
‘Ok, just take it easy mister, don’t go shooting that thing at no-one aint no-one gonna stand in your way’
A middle-aged woman who had screamed when I burst in was now sobbing in the corner, crouch around protecting her little girl. I must admit when I saw that I wondered what the hell we were doing, I never considered emotions in all this and the idea that I was scaring the hell outta a little kid momentarily ripped my heart out but it was too late to go back now, the wheels were in full motion. I kept everyone covered while Sam politely told the teller to fill the sacks with cash
‘Big bucks only man, I don’t want my partner to have to shoot you cos you gave him all Lincolns do it now and do it quick if you’d be so kind’
Even robbing a goddamned bank Sam was still being polite. I nearly burst out laughing at the sheer audacity of the man.
‘ y yes sir’ said the Teller ‘just take it easy, you’re in control, just take it easy’
His hands were shaking like he was in the fourth step of the nine step program as he stuffed a couple of sacks full of blocks of notes, the sweat pouring down his face.
‘Right now, y’all pass them over here real slow and fill another then we’ll get outta your hair and you can do whatever you think necessary.’
Suddenly from the corner of my eye I saw George the security guard make a swift move toward his holster. Quickly I turned and pointed the gun cocking the hammer ready but it proved too late. George froze with his hand on the butt of his pistol but it gave the teller just enough time to hit the panic alarm and the air was rent with a wail as the bells kicked in and the woman with the kid started screaming all at the same time, it was enough to make your ears bleed, and for a second everyone just stopped dead still mesmerized by it.
‘c’mon partner’ I screamed at Sam ‘lets get the fuck outta Dodge’
He grabbed the sacks and we bundled out as fast as rabbits in a fox den, we hit the Toyota running and were fishtailing down the street heading south by the time George even got through the door. I felt a jolt before I heard the crack of his pistol and realized that he’d hit the trunk of the Nissan, lucky it wasn’t the gas tank we’d have gone sky high, instead of hightailing it out of there and we were well out of range by the time I heard the second volley of shots.
‘yeeeehaaaaa’, shouted Sam as we zipped through lower Dodge and out into the cornfields of southern Kansas, my ears were super alert for sirens but I didn’t hear any just yet though I knew it wouldn’t be long
‘That alarm was probably wired straight into the cops Sam, we better get the hell off this route and into the farm roads, here, you take the map and try to keep us on track’
‘Yes sir, sheesh that sure was a buzz hey Joe’
‘Man,’ I said shaking my head and laughing ‘yep that sure was a buzz’
Somewhere in the distance I picked up the first strains of the cop sirens and I knew that they must have radioed ahead. Every cop and state trooper in southern Kansas must be lookin out for this old blue Toyota.
‘Sam, we gotta ditch this car and steal another, you keep a look out, anything that looks like it’ll run across the state line will do’
‘Got ya Joe, just keep heading down here, there’s a left takes you out into the farm routes and a straight path down to the panhandle’
I hit the left with a classic Hollywood skid, the blood was pounding in my ears and my legs felt like Jell-O but I was holding her straight enough and we hit the dirt tracks as the sirens became more defined, getting closer all the time
‘Slow it down Joe, don’t kick up so much dust, just like a smoke signal for the cops if you do that’
Now we were of the main roads I figured he was right and brought her down to about 40. I heard the cops scream past on Route 283 to the west of us.
‘I bet they’re locking the state line down tight Sam, it could get a little hairy from here on in, you better keep your eyes peeled for another car. Just on the outskirts of a small town called Meade we passed a truck stop and I slammed the Toyota to a halt.
‘c’mon, we’ll steal another car from here, you get the sacks and I’ll go pop one open’
I raced into the lot saw a white Nissan with Panhandle plates and crept across behind a couple of trucks toward it, the Nissan wasn’t even locked and within a minute I had it running and was heading back to pick up Sam.
Suddenly out of nowhere a cop car cruised into the parking lot slowly marking out the lines of cars with its searchlight, ultra carefully I eased the Nissan between two trucks and sprang the door for Joe, as I did so the cops came round across the front of the trucks, lights started flashing and the sirens took up their ghostly wail. I slammed the Nissan into reverse as Sam dived in the passenger side, hit the hand break and jammed down the throttle as hard as I could, taking us back on to the county roads, the cops in close pursuit. I heard their loudhailer tell us to pull over but the Nissan handled well and I gunned that bitch straight down the farm lanes hardly even looking behind the suspension moaning with ever bump in the track throwing us around like clams in a pot. There was a crack of pistol fire and again the jolt as a bullet hit the back of the car, I swerved a little but kept control, another crack this time the rear window came in and Joe gave a roar of pain, blood spattered across my face and the inside of the windshield, he’d taken a slug in the shoulder and was slumped forward holding it trying to stem the blood. It looked pretty bad; I managed to hold the car reasonably straight and looked my eyes switching between the road and Sam.
‘Oh Jesus, oh Christ, speak to me Sam I yelled over the noise of engine and siren’
‘Shit Joe, im hit, it feels pretty bad’
‘Hang in there buddy must be just a few miles to the state line, just hang in there buddy, stay with me now, stay with me buddy’
The cops were gaining now, I could hear the sirens getting closer and see the lights in my rear mirror, the road split up ahead as I sped up toward the junction, at the very last minute I yanked the hand break and threw the car into a right hand turn, fishtailing away, if not perfectly under control then good as damn, I checked the rear view, the cops had missed it but were coming round slow. I heard more sirens up ahead and hit the next left in a similar fashion. I sped past a sign that said state line 2 miles
‘Stick with me Sam, two miles to the state line’
He just groaned and carried on holding his shoulder, there was a lot of blood flowing through his hand by now and it tightened my stomach to see him pale as a sheet and not hardly moving.
I floored it, we had to get out of this god damned state and find some country doctor to fix Sam up.
As we approached the line I could see two cruisers parked in an arrow shape blocking the road lights flashing and two troopers stood next to the with rifles, I slowed slightly, unsure of how to do this then I figured what the hey, cant quit now, gunned the engine and jammed down on the gas, we fair flew across that last few hundred yards.
‘Sam hold on for Christ sake and just don’t let go, just hold on and brace yourself, this is gonna be rough’ I yelled as my hands gripped the wheel tight, every sinew in my body tensed and ready for the impact. I screwed everything I could out of that Nissan as I approached the roadblock, it was only half a chance but it was all I had. Sam couldn’t help me now, it was down to me. At the very second of impact I yanked the wheel hard left and simultaneously hit the handbrake, the Nissan threw itself into a half spin and smashed into the right hand cruiser pushing it back twenty feet the two troopers diving out of the way of flying glass and metal. The impact was so fierce I thought my spine would come through the top of my head, I saw Sams head snap sideways and he flew out of his seat and smashed into the roof of the car, then back down and just Kinda crumpled, he was still. I hit the gas again and tore through the wire boundary fence of a cornfield and threw the car into the 8-foot high corn plants. I was driving blind now, just heading what I thought was straight, corn plants falling before my eyes and cobs bouncing of the windscreen and roof, the car jolting all over the place as it hit every furrow, Sam gave a groan of pain and I knew I had to get back onto some safe terrain or he was gonna bleed out. I saw blood pumping from the wound in his shoulder and heard his labored breathing, the slug must have hit his lung cos. Hell, it sounded like he was drowning right next to me.
‘Shit oh shit, speak to me Sam, man, let me get out of here we’ll get you fixed up’ I said, half sobbing half praying
I kept glancing over but the movement in the seat next to me had stopped. A trickle of bloody spittle dripping from his mouth onto his oily old jeans. I heard the scream of sirens and saw a cruiser bouncing along behind about 200 yards. I hurled the Nissan right then left again and jumped back on the gas. It must have been about two miles across that goddamned field until I hit blacktop on the other side. With a massive jolt that threw Sam up against the roof of the car again I hit a hard right onto the farm road and jammed the pedal down, swerving wildly as I fought to bring it under control. The wailing sirens died and I figured I must have crossed the state line somewhere back over the last few miles of rough field driving. The Nissan was pretty much shot now, the suspension had failed on the passenger side and there was a definite list to the vehicle, I didn’t know how much more she could take, these Japanese cars are great city runners but they cant take the kind of treatment I was putting it through. I looked over at Sam again; a small trickle of blood was coming from his right ear. I shook him but he just slumped forward and I knew he was gone.
‘Oh Jesus Sam. Im sorry buddy’ tears welled up in my eyes and I could hardly breathe, I guess his neck just snapped when he hit the roof as the Nissan hit the Oklahoma dust. The fight went out of me then, I was just driving, south I think but it could have been west or east. I was lost in grief for my old pal. I guess a madness came over me cos I just ran that car as far as I could across the big old Oklahoma plains, I saw cops, I ran from cops but no one could stop me now, I was a man possessed, I was in state of denial, denial that we’d ever done the job, denial of the dead body of my old pal next to me and denial that I was myself mortal. I had just disassociated myself with the entire day, I guess in legal terms you could say my responsibility had become diminished.
The sun dipped low over the western sky. I pulled the Nissan into a deserted old farm shack off the highway and parked her up behind an old out house. The car was a shadow of its former self, no longer gleaming white but dust covered with more wrinkles than an old Indian chief. I just leant on the hood for about an hour and went through the last few hours in my head. I could see Sam, slumped over on to the passenger window, he looked almost peaceful now. I stuck my head In the drivers door and popped the trunk, rummaging around I found a first aid kit and a torch, well there wasn’t much use for the medical kit but I flicked on the torch and holding it low went to have a look in the shack for something I could bury my buddy with. Inside I found an old blanket and a spade that had seen better days but I figured it would do the sad task. I went out and began digging, maybe it was the grief of losing my buddy or the adrenalin still coursing in my veins but I dug and dug until I’d made a passable and respectable grave. I laid out the old blanket next to it and went to get Sam. His lumbering weight was on me now and I carried half dragged him from the car and over to the blanket. I laid him out just nice with his arms across his chest and all, wrapped him in the shroud then dragged him into the grave and covered him with fine Oklahoma soil. I said a quick prayer then just sank to my knees and wept. That was the end of Sam Bateman, beautiful, polite, and gentle Samuel Daniel Bateman.
I don’t know how long I was down there but it was still dark when I went back to the car, grabbed the sacks of money and went into the shack. The money felt dirty to me now, blood money, like it was responsible for the death of my friend. I hurled the sacks into the corner. I guess I must have slept some cos the next memory I have is of the sun streaming in through the broken window warming my face. I opened my bleary eyes and it all came flooding back to me, Sam, the bank, the chase. All in stark contrast to this beautiful peaceful morning.
I went out back of the shack; all I could see was miles and miles of farmland. I sat down with my back against the wall and took out Sams wallet looking for I don’t know what, he had never spoken about family, close or otherwise but there must be someone, someone who I could share the grief of his passing. I leafed through the wallet, just a few bills, receipts from diners and scraps of paper with meaningless names and telephone numbers on. Then right inside, protected from the day to day rigors of wallet usage I found a picture of a woman, maybe mid to late 50s I turned it over and there was the simple inscription ‘mom, 1983’ below that was what looked like a telephone number. I felt relief that I at least had this and vowed to track Sams Mom down and tell her what had happened and where her son was laid to rest. I knew he was from the Omaha area and I knew that was where I had to get. But first I had to get rid of the wreck of the Nissan and stash the money somewhere safe. I was disgusted at myself for still thinking about the money when my buddy lay not 30 feet away in an unmarked grave but I think he would have smote me down from his heavenly cloud if I’d just left it there.
Chapter 6
I figured it was too risky to drive the Nissan so I left it as concealed as I could behind the outhouse, stashed the money, apart from fifteen hundred bucks in the trunk and bummed a ride into the town of Guymon, the only town for miles around in the panhandle of Oklahoma. Once in town I made a B line for the nearest used car dealers, Carter auto sales on main. I was constantly on the lookout for cops but saw just one cruiser who went past me without a glance, I guess they must have figure I was long gone by now into New Mexico and beyond. I made a cash deal with Carter himself on an old ford, nothing to fancy but it was a good runner and drove back to the shack. The Nissan was still there; I loaded up the sacks of cash, said a final prayer for Sam, torched the nissan and made my way west toward the Colorado state line along route 64 and then on the 385 up to Lamar. I decided to keep going north rather than detour into Denver to see my family, I hadn’t seen them for the best part of 15 years and it just didn’t seem like the right time to do it now. I stopped overnight at a Howard Johnson’s in Seibert about an hour east of Denver. I went to a bar but my head wasn’t in the right place to be drinking with the happy go lucky Barflies so I went to the liquor store, got a pint of cheap Tennessee mash and holed up in the hotel for the night. My thoughts were all about Sam. I was just consumed with guilt that the plan, the plan that I had hatched, had led to the death of my good buddy, and I just sat in that lonely hotel room and drinking whiskey and crying my eyes out for my dead friend. In the morning I showered and changed my clothes, my head felt like something was about to burst out of it but I knew I had to go on, had to make it to Lincoln Nebraska at least by sundown tonight.
Interstate 70 was deserted apart from the obligatory trucks; I passed miles of dirt fields and cow land. The old ford was turning out to be a great car and as I wound my way through eastern Colorado with the windows down a new optimism overcame me. Sure Sam was gone but I was Kinda celebrating his life now, cruising along the open road, music on loud and the soft summer wind blowing in the windows. I laughed to my self thinking of how he used to just sit there and read the whole time hardly even looking out of the window and just saying the occasional profound or practical thing. I thought about the years we had spent on the road together, bumming rides, hopping trains and walking from small town to small town, no-hope job to no-hope job but they were good times we had together. I remembered one time in Minnesota in November time when the snows came in hard we made our money by digging people out of their homes and rescuing sheep and cows out of the fields, and another time down in Mississippi where we worked for a mill owner who had the meanest dog you ever did know, who’d growl and snap at you if you came within 10 feet of him. We got fired from there when the dog bit Sams ass and he turned round and kicked it so hard it fair flew across the timber yard and crashed into the woodpile bringing the owner out of his office cussing and hollering about how we’d damn near killed his dog. And the time we went to New York City just to ride the subway and wander the street around Times Square. Sam loved it there but I got kinda spooked by all the hustle and bustle and we cut out after just 3 days heading north into New England in an old convertible we picked up for cheap in Hoboken New Jersey… we only went to Hoboken because we wanted to see if we could find a hobo called ken! There were bad times too like when we near froze to death in Maine in the winter of 91. Staying in a deserted hunting lodge in the forest, fishing and trapping for food. And when we were down in new Orleans, drunk as skunks in a bar on orange street and we got beat up by a gang of rowdy sailors on shore leave from the USS Asswipe who just about kicked my face into a different shape and broke two of sams ribs. But it was the camaraderie that got us through; we just made a great team. Sam and I, him with his big old feet and polite ways and me with my supposed quick thinking and sullen attitude. I guess it was that quick thinking, or dumb thinking as I now saw it, which got us in to this mess in the first place and cost Sam the ultimate price.
I crossed into Nebraska just east of Cheyenne and headed up i80, a straight run all the way to Lincoln. I’d managed to steer well clear of Kansas but grand larceny being a federal offence I still kept my eyes out for local cops and state troopers alike, there was no way they’d bust me unless it were for some stupid traffic violation and even then the chances of them tying me in to the great Dodge City Sunshine Bank heist were minimal but I drove nice and steady at 55 the whole way, just taking my time and getting things sorted in my mind. How in hell I was going to find Sams family, how was I gonna tell them how he died and whether I was going to tell them what led up to his death. My mind was on fire at the prospect of the task ahead. One thing was for sure though that his mom and family had a right to his half of the money if she wanted it, if not I thought I’d give it to the local school to buy books, I figured Sam would approve of that.
I checked into another cheap motel on the outskirts and crashed out for about 4 hours, I was totally bushed after what felt like a week on the road but infact only amounted to about 72 hours. Jesus, 72 hours since we were in Hangsträäms hotel drinking sour mash, playing cards and hatching the damned plan…it felt like a lifetime. A crazy ride across 7 states, a bank robbery, the death of my main man, and now an insane search for his family in a city of 400,000 people and I don’t even know if they still live there. What the hell was I doing? Chasing another rainbow? Trying to cleanse my soul? All I knew is that I had to do it, had to find Sams family and try to get some kind of closure.
I hit the Lazlo Bar on north Seventh Street at around 9pm, I had a feeling I wanted to get mortally drunk and sleep in the gutter. I just sat on a barstool sipping bourbon with beer chasers, the whole scene felt unreal to me. I was listening watching a game on the TV. Red socks were beating Yankees 5 to zip in the fifth but I couldn’t concentrate. The bar was full of seniors from Nebraska State University, I felt out of place amongst their loud hollering and drinking games. I left the bar at around 10:30, buzzing from the drink but needing more. I stopped off at Genos liquor store on Eleventh Street and got a fifth and a bottle of wine then went back to the motel. I flicked on the radio, it was playing some southern country rock, which soothed my pain a little, until I thought of Sam and how he would love this, plenty of liquor, good music on the radio and a comfortable bed for the night. Everywhere I looked I felt sadness. So I drank myself into a stupor and fell asleep on the bed fully clothed.
Chapter 7
I hit the road again at 8 am the next morning, I didn’t wanna be in Lincoln any longer and I was on a quest now, an odyssey to cleanse my sins and put Sam to rest in a more fitting way. It was a fast ride up to the outskirts of Omaha until I got stuck in the commuter traffic heading in to town for a hard day honest work. I was struck by how many golf courses I passed on my way downtown. I guess there’s not much else to do in Omaha but hit a ball around a field, I never saw the attraction myself but I guess it appeals to some. I left the car in a lot on Ames Avenue with the two sacks safely stowed in the trunk and headed toward the central post office, I figured I could start by looking up all the Batemans in the phone directory and then make some calls, the first of which was to be to the number on the photograph. An hour later I had a list of about 40 names in the greater Omaha area, I checked in to a Howards and settled down for a long session with the phone. I’d hardly used a telephone for more than 10 minutes since I left the job as a shipping clerk in Galveston Texas so it was all kinda unfamiliar ground for an old drifter like me more used to talking round an oil barrel brazier than adopting some false manner on the telephone, especially as I had no idea what to say if it was the Mrs. Bateman I was looking for on the end of the line. I took a deep breath and dialed the number. A mans voice came on the line
‘Hello’
‘Hello sir, im a friend of Samuel Bateman, im trying to get in contact with his mother as a matter of some urgency’
‘Bateman you say, there was an Eileen Bateman lived here bout six years ago but she moved away, no idea where she went’
‘Eileen Bateman, thank you sir you have been most helpful, im sorry to trouble you, I wont take any more of your time’
Well it wasn’t the perfect start but at least I had a lead, Eileen Bateman. She must be sams mom. I started to plough through the list I’d picked up at the post office. I’d run through about fifteen dead ends and was starting to lose hope when I called a number listed in the Leavenworth
Park area of the south of the city, a young woman answered the phone
‘Hello ma’am, I am a friend of Samuel Bateman and im trying contact his family on a matter of some urgency’
‘Sam? Oh my god, you know where Sam is? Im his sister, mister if you know where he is you gotta tell me’
I was stunned by the excitement, almost panic in her voice
‘Ma’am, I think it’s best if I come over to see you, im afraid I have some bad news’
‘Oh god no, please just tell me, is he hurt? Has he been put in jail again?’
Again? I wondered at that, he’d never told me about any time he’d done
‘Ma’am I really think its best I come see you. You are on marcey street yes?’
‘Yes sir, 372 marcey street Leavenworth Park’
‘Ok ma’am, my name is Joe Patience. I’m staying at the Howard Johnson motel on south 22nd, I’ll be over in twenty minutes. You sit tight’
I rang off and steeled myself for the difficult task ahead. I’d found sams sister now came the hard part in breaking the news to her that her brother had been killed during a get away chase from a bank robbery in Kansas and I’d buried his body in an unmarked grave in northern Oklahoma… how do you tell a loving family member that?
Twenty minutes later I pulled up outside a nice little house with a front lawn and all in respectable suburban Omaha. Once again I tried to mentally prepare myself for the news I was about to break, took a deep breath and walked up the sidewalk to the house. I knocked on the door and immediately it opened.
‘Ma’am, Joseph Patience, we spoke on the phone’
‘Yes yes come in Joseph, come in im Cassie’
The next hour of my life was very hard, I didn’t know where to start so I told her that I was truly sorry but her brother was dead. She wept at the news, as you would expect, but the depth of her grief I hadn’t prepared for, she was totally destroyed by the news. I went out to the kitchen and made her some hot sweet tea and asked if there was another family member I could call.
‘No, Mr. patience, there isn’t. Momma died two years back and it was only ever Samuel, some cousins and me upstate but we aint close and I don’t even know half their names. Tell me Mr. patience, how did he die?’
I told her the entire story. It seems that Sam hadn’t been back to Nebraska for many years and Cassie was still in senior high when he took off the first time. I told her about the road trips, how Sam and I had been traveling partners getting on for 10 years, and finally I told her about the robbery and the tragic aftermath.
‘That Samuel, momma always said it would all come crashing in on him one day, ever since all that trouble back when he was 20 year old and he ended up in juvenile corrections’
She told me how Sam had been on the wrong side of the law a lot in his younger years and when they finally put him inside for grand theft auto when he was 18 his momma was at her wits end, and how when they let him out on parole he skipped out of town and hadn’t been back since. Always a birthday card, Christmas card and a phone call once a year but he’d never set foot in Omaha from that day to this, neither would he again. I told Cassie about my plan for his half of the money, it seemed callous to actually say the words but they had to be said.
‘Mr. patience, may I call you Joseph?’ it seemed that the politeness was genetic ‘I think from what you’ve told me that that would be a lovely idea, I wont pretend money isn’t tight around here so I would like to keep some but I think buying books for the school house would be what Samuel would want.’
I stayed with Cassie for about two hours just telling her road stories about Sam and I. I could see she wanted to know everything and I was of a mind to tell it. To be honest I was enjoying her company and relieved to be letting all my own grief out. I left at about 7pm. I told her my room number and the motel switchboard number and said I would be in town for a few days if she wanted to talk more. She thanked me for being so kind as to come up here and tell her in person and as I left she leaned over and pecked me on the cheek. I walked away from the house feeling lighter of heart and somewhat buoyed by her acceptance of me.
Chapter 8
Back at the hotel I counted out the money. A grand total of 60,000 dollars give or take some loose greenbacks. Didn’t seem much considering the price paid. I just stacked it up on the dresser in piles of 10s and 20s, 50’s and 100’s and split the lot into two equal amounts. It still felt dirty to me. It still had Sams blood on it metaphorically speaking and I didn’t know if I could ever get that thought out of my head. Feeling depressed I left the hotel again, I was dog tired but I couldn’t sleep for the images that kept racing through my mind; the kid in the bank, the chase, when Sam got hit, his final breath and cassie sitting in that Omaha townhouse crying for her lost brother. I just hit the streets and walked and walked trying to justify myself to me. I stopped and got chicken fries and a six-pack of MGD from Popeye’s Chicken and sat and ate it on one of the fairways of Debolt Golf Course. The night was fine and I lay back on the neatly tailored grass staring up at the stars in that big old midwestern sky. Thinking if Sam is up there now what must he be thinking and wondering if he was staring down at me. At about 11pm I guess it must have been, I got up and made my way back into town. I stopped at the Crystal Beverage Mart and got a bottle of Sour Mash, determined to drink my self to sleep but when I got back to the hotel there was a message waiting for me from Cassie asking me to call as soon as I got in, no matter what the time. I asked the guy at the desk for his phone and made the call
‘Cassie, hi, its Joe, I just got your message, sorry to call so late. Is everything ok’
‘Hey Joseph, im kinda down, as you’d expect but im ok. Im a tough old coot, ya kinda have to be living alone in the city, I just called earlier to see if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night, there’s someone I’d like you to meet’
‘Sure, I’d love to come over. You need me to bring anything? Wine or food or anything’
‘Naw Joseph, y’all just bring yourself. Shall we say about 7.30?
‘That sounds just fine Cassie, I’ll see you then’
My mind was racing again now, who did she want me to meet? Was it some kind of set up? Had she called in the feds? I didn’t think so or they would have been waiting for me at the hotel. But who? Some heavy guys she knew who were gonna take retribution on me for my part in the death of her brother? Her long lost family from upstate? Well, there was nothing I could do tonight, ‘just gonna have to wait see Joe’ I said to myself and went to my room feeling kinda anxious at the call but also kinda excited that she wanted me to come over and eat dinner in her home…like she had pardoned my sins and was inviting me into the family home. I was so excited, confused and anxious about the whole thing I hardly even took a slug of the whiskey.
I spent the morning of the next day shopping at the mall in Frederick square. I got me some new black Levi jeans, a fresh pair of boots, a decent shirt and some toiletries, hell I even got me a comb for my hair, stuff I hadn’t had from new in well over 7 years. It felt good to be a normal citizen, shopping and paying for goods over the counter albeit with stolen money. I took my time, wandering aimlessly among the stores taking lunch at a deli in the mall and drinking coffee along with the respectable golf playing city folk of Omaha. Just another average Joe.
At about two in the afternoon I arrived back at the hotel with all my bags of goods. I took a long hot bath, shaved away all my stubble, brushed my hair and teeth and lay back on the bed and slept a sound sleep until about five thirty when I awoke, refreshed and wondered the floor of my room wearing out the carpet and smoking cigarettes in anticipation of the evening ahead, anticipation and also slight fear at the mysterious stranger that I was to be introduced to. At 6.45 I could take the tension no longer, packed Cassies money into an attaché case I had got from the mall and drove on over to Leavenworth Park. I was early so I stopped and picked up a bottle of fine wine at the strip mall on Ralston but Cassie didn’t seem to be the kind of woman that would mind a little thing like a fella being a quarter hour early so after 10 minutes of sitting in the old ford opposite her house gathering up the nerve I walked up that same path and rapped on the frame of the screen door.
‘Joseph, hi, hi, come on in, oh you bought wine, how lovely, here let me go chill it’
She opened the door and welcomed me again with that peck on the cheek.
‘We’re so glad you could come. Here, through this way, into the living room, there’s someone I’d like you to meet and who is just falling over himself to meet you’
I walked in through the door and stopped dead in my tracks. Before me stood an eight-year-old boy, tall for his age, dark, naturally straight hair and the beginnings of a very familiar hang dog expressing.
‘Joseph Patience, I’d like to introduce you to my son, Jacob Bateman’
I was stunned, absolutely knocked out; this smiling kid was just the complete spitting image of Sam, or Sam as I imagined he would be at that age
‘Mr. Patience, please to meet you sir, Mom says you were good friends with my uncle Sam, I’d love to hear some of the tales you told my mom…if that’s not too much trouble of course…sir’
My heart leapt into my throat, seems that old politeness was genetic after all and he definitely had all of Sams self-assuredness in conversation. I burst out laughing, the first time in days, just couldn’t stop myself, then Cassie and Jacob, unsure at first, joined in my mirth and we all spent the next few minutes just laughing.
‘Why sure Jacob’ I said still chuckling ‘I’d love to tell you tales of your uncle and I on the road, I’d just love to tell you, here, what’s that you got there, lemme see’
He offered me an old scrapbook; it was full of photographs of Sam when he was a kid and Cassie and what I took to be their parents and other family members.
‘Well you just come on and sit here and tell me who it is in all these photographs then Jacob, you mind if I call you Jake?’
‘Not at all sir, only mom ever calls me Jacob, and then only if I did something wrong like breaking a dish or sommat or im in the company of adults we don’t know right well’
‘Right, well Jake, lets stop all this ‘sir’ business as well, my name is Joe and that’s what you gotta be calling me, aint no one called me sir in my whole life and I don’t see why anyone gotta start now’
I offered him my hand again and we shook on it. Cassie chuckled and excused herself out to the kitchen to get supper ready while me and Jake flicked through the photo book and he gave me a guided tour of the characters and places in the pictures. I told Jake some tales of the road and some of the trouble that Sam and I had got into over the years, I was careful not to mention too much illegal stuff and certainly didn’t mention what had happened to Sam, but I did tell him the story of when the dog bit Sams ass and that had him in hysterics. His innocence and eight year old and wonder at the stories precluded him from asking how his uncle had died and I guessed his mom had just told him that Sam was dead and not really elaborated too much about the why and wherefores.
At around eight, just as the sun was dipping through the kitchen window we sat down to eat; Cassie had prepared a fine chicken pot roast with hunks of fresh bread I guess she had got from the English bakery up the street. It was possibly the finest pot roast I ever had, Cassie said it was always Sims favorite supper when they were kids and that the recipe was actually their mothers and that she just found it kinda the only thing fitting to cook for a day like this. Jake and I talked about every thing from Cars to baseball and back again. For his age he was quite the conversationalist and I guessed before he even told me that he was an avid reader of books and was in the A class in school in most subjects, his favorites being literature and the sciences and my mind flicked back to Sam and all those books he got through on the road, I reckoned he’d be one proud uncle right now if he was to see this.
At 9.30 Cassie told Jake to go get ready for bed and her and I settled down on a comfy old beat up sofa out on the back porch, drinking sweet cool yellow wine and enjoying the warmth of the early September evening. Jake came down kissed his mom goodnight and thanked me for coming over asking if I’d do it again sometime to which I neatly avoided any commitment saying it was down to his mom whether I did or not
‘C’mon now Jake’ Cassie said in a warm tone ‘y’all let Mr Patience be now and get on to ya bed, or y’all be tired ‘fore ya even get to school tomorrow’
‘Aww mo-om…’ he said with a mock whine but he knew he was beat and we shook hands and he left us two alone to enjoy the rest of the evening.
I talked to Cassie for hours that night, about Sam, about me, about my life, her life, about Jakes dad, a no good sheet metal worker who used to beat her and cheat on her until she had enough two years back and left taking Jake with her and getting an injunction stopping him coming within 3 miles. I began to get the feeling that there was much more of a connection building between Cassie and I other than the legacy of Sam. But not wanting to make a fool of myself or spoil a beautiful evening in the company of a wonderful woman I behaved like the perfect gentleman and at around 11 with the cicadas chirping and the traffic on Leavenworth down to the odd car passing through I said my goodnights and prepared to leave.
‘Joseph?’ Cassie said with a slight flush to her face ‘do y’all think you can stick around in Omaha some few more days, I’d really like for us to get to know each other better’
My heart leapt once again into my throat, this time with joy, I could hardly even speak.
‘Miss Cassie, I’d just love to do that’ I said with a smile.
She reached up, stroked my cheek with the back of her hand and leant forward kissing me lightly on the cheek. Her arms encircling my waist and holding me to her as I took in my arms and we shared a warm embrace.
My mind was all of a flutter leaving her house that night and it wasn’t until I was half way back down sixth street that I realized with a sudden start that I hadn’t even left her the attaché case full of money, it was right there in the foot well of the passengers side. I figured there’d be more than ample opportunity to present it to her over the next few days, especially when Jake wasn’t around, and I guess that fate had decreed that tonight just wasn’t the right time. Fate seemed to be dictating my every move right now and the hand she dealt today was considerably better than the past two.
Chapter 9
First thing the following day I rented a room on Dodge Street in west Omaha at the capital court rooming house complex. A perfect room for a drifter but not one I’d really want to entertain a lady in but at 90 bucks a week it was cheap and comfortable, I even hung my new clothes up in the wardrobe, something I hadn’t done for a good few years. There was a Laundromat across the street so I emptied my old kit bag and washed the lot. Maybe this was a new respectable Joe Patience starting a new life or maybe just the old Joe sweet on the sister of his dead partner. That left me in a quandary too, Im not a particularly moral guy, haven’t been in a church for nigh on 20 years and don’t pay a great deal of heed to the normal accepted ways of society but I was slightly troubled by the fact that I was potentially about to embark on relationship of whatever kind with Cassie, my best friends sister, the best friend who’s death I was implicated in. I resolved to discuss the way I felt with Cassie before things went any further. After the expedition to the laundry I went to the bell phone on the corner and called Cassie. I got the answer machine but left a message telling her where I was and that I’d call her later that day. One voice in my head saying ‘where is she? Where is she?’ the other voice saying ‘relax man she’s at the store or at her job, relax, just take it cool’ typical thoughts of a guy who’s hooked on a girl and I guessed I was kinda hooked.
Back at the hotel I began looking through the want ads in the Omaha Star, circled a few local labor jobs and returned to the bell phone to make enquiries. I know I had the 30 grand from the heist but I wanted a job to occupy my mind. Try to get it back on the straight and narrow, stop dwelling on the events of the past few days and also to prove to Cassie that I wasn’t a complete waster and I could hold a steady job down and support her if that was the way that this thing was gonna turn out. I ended up taking a job at the Millard lumber company on 135th starting Monday, giving me another three days of leisure before the grind started. It felt damned good walking away from Millard’s with the promise of work and a union card in my billfold. Old man Millard seemed like a decent guy too, very straight talking but with the honest eyes of an old time yard owner who looked after his work force unlike some of the corporate places Sam and I had worked in the past.
I called Cassie on the way back to the Capital Rooms and this time she picked up
’Joseph, im so sorry I missed your call earlier I was at the store and got in must’ve been ten minutes after you left your message, how is your new place? I cant wait to see, give it a womanly once over, is there anything you need, towels, sheets for the bed, I have extra if you need’
‘Whoa Cassie slow down honey, its all good, I have all the stuff I need, maybe you’d like to come down this afternoon, I can show you the room and we can take a coffee on the corner then go pick Jake up from the school. We have matters to discuss any way so maybe I can see you at 2.30’
‘That sounds just fine Joseph, gimme the address again I’ll drive over in about an hour’
An hour later I was showing Cassie around my humble abode, she’s bought flowers, I don’t think I’d ever had flowers bought me in my life before, I took a pitcher and filled it quarter full and put the flowers on the window ledge.
‘There’ I said ‘don’t that make it just perfect’
‘Aww Joe, they look just beautiful with the sun and all coming through the window, she turned to me and in that moment I knew, just knew she was the girl for me, we embraced and our lips met in our first proper kiss. My heart was like a steam train in my chest as I took her in my arms and she responded with equal gentle passion. We parted and gazed into each others eyes, sharing thoughts that neither of us needed to voice.
‘C’mon girl, lets go get some coffee. There’s some things I need to say and I guess that you have a few of the same things on your mind too.
Cassie took me to a Starbucks two blocks away on 13th and we took a table out on the street to enjoy the sun.
‘Honey, before I start I just want you to know that I’m sweet on you, you must realize that by now and I hope that you feel the same’ I began with a certain amount of trepidation ‘but I must admit to feeling slightly uneasy about the way we met and with you being Sams sister and all and me implicated in his dying, aww heck, I just wanna get it all cleared up in my mind before we even go any further’
‘Joseph, I hear what you are saying, of course I do, but since the moment I set eyes on you I kinda knew you were a good man and the fact that you took the trouble to come all the way here, taking a great risk, well it proves to me that your heart is in the right place. Samuel, from what you have told me, knew what he was getting in to when you pulled that job and I don’t hold you in any way responsible for his death. It was a damn fool thing to do but I accept that it was a joint decision, you both took your chances and poor Sam didn’t make it’ she took my hand and gazed into my eyes ‘ I wont let this come between us Joe, I feel you and I have the beginnings of something real special here and we both need to see where its going or we’ll regret it for the rest of our days’
We kissed again, the way new lovers kiss, tongues lightly teasing each other as lips meet our hands entwined and as we parted she reached up and stroked my cheek again with the back of her hand.
‘We need to take this real slow honey,’ I said ‘I don’t want this to be no flash in the pan love affair, so lets just take it all nice and slow for both our sakes and for Jake too, its gonna be kinda weird for that little guy having a new man in his life’
‘Oh Joseph Patience, you are such a thoughtful man, I can see why Sam thought the world of you’
Chapter 10
Over the course of the next few months Cassie and I became very close, going out on dates to see bands and taking Jake out to the burger joints downtown, just whiling away time in each others company over supper and a nice cold glass of wine. My drinking had slowed down a lot too, I rarely bought a fifth these days and when I did it lasted me near a week instead of a few hours, I felt clearer headed and healthier than I had for years. We didn’t actually make love until about a month in to the relationship, sure, we’d kissed and cuddled a lot but we both wanted a slow steady courtship before anything of a sexual nature took place, I
was, however, over there most nights, playing ball with Jake out in the yard back and teaching him chess when the weather got bad or taking them out for picnics at the weekend to the Lake Manawa state park. When Cassie and I did finally end up in bed on a hot September night it was the most wonderful thing, slow and just easy y’know, nothing frantic, no ripping of clothes, nothing artificial, just simple love making between two people who had discovered a great affinity for each other.
I began to think of quitting my itinerant life for good, work at Millards was going well, the old man recognized my skills and i got on well with the old goat, I enjoyed his wry sense of humour and he liked hearing my stories from the road. I was upgraded from the general yard duties to the Saw House and spent my days ripping planks out of great raw Wisconsin lumber. It was tough work but rewarding and I was learning stuff all the time from the other guys. They accepted me as one of their own, even as they said, if I was from Colorado! We had quite a little community going on in the yard. Banter at lunch times and the odd beer after work. I was obtuse about my past, letting them know a little but not all of it.
My bad memories of Sam’s death began to ease too. I spent hours sat on the old sofa on Cassies porch regaling her with tales from the road in the tinniest detail and between us we managed to cope with the grief of losing him. She said it was probably harder for me as I’d been close to him for many years whereas she had only know him up to her late teens but I knew she was hurting, blood is thicker than water after all.
In early October I rented a proper apartment over on Turner Boulevard, a nice place with a balcony, about five minutes walk from Cassies house and she and Jake came over to eat sometimes. Jake had accepted me totally as the new man in his mom’s life and in the innocent way of eight year old kids seemed happy to have me as a father figure. I knew his mom was happy about that, she was fiercely protective of his feelings after her husband and the damage he had done to them. But I wasn’t him and I enjoyed getting to know Jake as much as I enjoyed being in Cassies company. I felt part of something, the first time for many years I’d felt that way and it was good. Too good to lose for a bit of wandering. Sure, I still thought of the road and what was happening out there in all those town and cities across this big old land but it didn’t seem to matter any more. I finally felt like I’d come home.
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mister the day my lottery comes in
i aint ever gonna ride no used car again
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cowboy