Letters From the Grave
would take. “So, when do you close? When can we move you down here?”
“They want to close right away. That’s why they bid high, so that I would agree to move out soon, before school. The date on the contract is thirty days from now. Aren’t you excited?”
He couldn’t believe it. “I’m thrilled. Julie, we’re going to live and love each other forever. When do you want to set the wedding date?”
“It will need to be after I move out of here, Jake. I might need to rent something.”
“That’s okay, my love. I’ll do whatever you need, and we can work out the details later. This is great, the biggest hurdle is past.”
She could hardly control her excitement. “Jake, I want to be with you so much. Even thirty days seems like an eternity.”
“I know, babe, but it’ll go by fast. You need to think about moving everything. You should call a moving company in the morning and have them out to do an estimate. If you need to, have them store things up there or down here until we get everything sorted out. Get the ball rolling.”
“I will, Jake. I’ve never moved before. Not since moving in here.”
“Not a problem. I moved a lot in the Army. We’ll get through this. Tonight we celebrate. Tomorrow we panic. Don’t you love it?”
“I love you.”
“Me, too, Julie. Me, too.”
“So, when can we get married?”
“How fast can you set it up? I can be there tomorrow!”
She sounded serious. “I’ll need to work on the schedule. Like I said, it might be after the move. I still want it here with all my friends, but it might be after I’m out of the house.”
“You just tell me when and where, sweetheart. I’m yours no matter what some piece of paper says.”
“I know, Jake.”
They talked a little longer. Both were so excited that neither was tired. After the call was over, Jake reflected on the few things he still wanted to do in his house before she moved down. Now there was a timeline, and he couldn’t stall any longer. He was thrilled.
Monster Loose
That night, across town, Ryan walked through the front door of the house and was surprised to see Keats sitting there. “I been waitin’ for you, Ryan. Truth is, I didn’t expect you to be here by curfew, and I was fixin’ to lock the door in a few minutes.”
Ryan glanced at him. It was hard to tell if he’d been drinking. Keats had looked drunk earlier in the day, and he looked the same now. “I’m headin’ up to sleep, Keats. You wanna tuck me in?”
“How much money you got left? Spect you been out drinkin’ and whorin’ first day outa lockup.”
Ryan smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you old man. I ain’t had a drop and my pecker’s still dry. I got almost all left, just missin’ the cost of a burger and fries, something lacking in my diet for a while.”
“Well, you go on up now and I want to see you fresh in the mornin’ for breakfast at eight o’clock. Then I expect you to be job huntin’.”
Ryan started up the stairs. “Whatever, boss -- whatever.”
He was conditioned for early breakfast. In fact, he was up at six and waiting downstairs before seven. There was one other “guest” at the house, a huge man with arms larger than the holes in the white tee he was wearing. Ryan looked at him, but didn’t say anything. The fellow looked like a murderer with the intelligence of a screwdriver. Ryan didn’t get even a minor glance from the stranger. He was just glad there were two bunk rooms and man-mountain slept in the other one. Ryan would have preferred the security of a locked cell if he had to be near this guy.
Keats, Ryan and the other man ate breakfast together. Keats mentioned their names at the table, but neither parolee paid any attention. It was over quickly, and Ryan was told to clean up the kitchen. He remembered Keats’s warning -- “Don’t piss me off.” Yesterday he’d felt defiant, but today he was savoring the second day out of Angola, and the words had more meaning. He just said “Yeah, boss,” and cleaned the table off. He didn’t want to be on the streets before the shops opened anyway. He wasn’t sure how much circulation his pictures from the pawn shop would get in the neighboring cities, and he wanted to be cautious.
There was a unisex salon only a block from the house, according to Google, and it opened at nine thirty. He wore a new pair of jeans and a new long-sleeve shirt to cover his tattoos. He stood out even more in public with new clothes and the scruffiest appearance in the city. He attracted attention from everyone who saw him. He was only out in the light of day a few minutes and didn’t pause outside the salon. The door chimed when he entered.
The overhead florescent lights were being switched on at Salon Margot by a young lady alone in the back who had her back to him, “I’ll be there in a minute, just take a seat in the front.”
“Okay, ma’am.”
She spent another minute rummaging out of sight in a large closet then walked to the front of the shop. She hadn’t looked at him until standing only a few feet away. “Oh, my. Let me guess, you want a haircut.”
He smiled imperceptibly behind massive whiskers. “An’ a beard trim too.”
“Well, you just come right on back to my station. I’m called ‘Bonny.’ That’s my name.” There was a paper sign with her name taped to the mirror in front of her chair.
She wasn’t trying to engage him in conversation. She didn’t even know what he looked like. If she described him, it would be as a floor mop with two eyes. She giggled to herself about calling him “Cousin It.” “Now, you just sit right down here, and Bonny will make you beautiful again. So, what will it be?”
She was jovial and he reflected her mood. “Tell you what, Bonny. I been away studyin’ in the jungles o’ South America for more’n a year. Can you believe it?” She nodded, her head looking at his reflection in the mirrored wall -- definitely. “So’s I wanna look purdy again. Can you do that?”
“Oh, you bet, sir. What can I call you?”
“Well, you can call me Bucky, that’s a nickname, but that’s what folks I like always call me.”
She was probably eighteen or nineteen, short and curvy with spiked black hair, full of pink highlights. “Well, I can sure make you look good. I been workin’ here near a year and almost fulfilled all apprentice requirements. Now, would you like a number four cut or a number five?”
“Well, darlin’, I don’t know. What do you think? I just want it short again. Short’s better’n long. It’s been long too long, if you know what I mean.” He grinned to himself about the unplanned double entendre. He wanted to say “D’ya get it?” But, clearly, she did not.
“All righty then, here we go. I got to charge you a little extra for all the scissor cuttin’ before I can use the clippers. Is that all right?”
“Whatever it takes darlin’. I want my beard nice and neat too, so’s you can see my pearly teeth.” The prison dental station had done a final cleaning before he was released.
It took almost an hour, but Ryan emerged from the salon looking clean cut and respectable if his glaring eyes could be avoided. No one would connect him to the pawn shop killing, based on appearances. He’d had used the perfect disguise.
He would spend the day looking for part-time work to keep Keats happy. It just couldn’t interfere with the time he needed to get the gold back. He didn’t need any more money, and the state took care of his basic needs. He had plenty hidden away now. It wasn’t possible to count it, but he did a mental estimate of big bills, then did some difficult math on a napkin at the doughnut shop near city center. He figured there must be at least five thousand dollars. It astounded him. You sure done good Will, done good!
The House
Jake was flying back from a shallow rig, arriving at base before noon. Another pilot invited him to share a ride in his truck to a nearby sandwich shop. They always attracted attention, sitting in their flight suits, and they enjoyed it, even after all the years
. The afternoon was spent lounging around waiting, but no more assignments were posted. He drove home around four.
As he came down the street, he thought the house had never looked better. After eight years of minimal care, the last few months of attention had corrected most of the deficiencies. This evening, he would start painting the outside trim in the late afternoon summer sunlight. It was the only thing left before it looked new again, or almost new. When finished three hours later, he was amazed that he’d completed the entire front of the house, including the front door. T.W. hollered encouragement a couple times, but Jake elected not to start another dialogue that would have ended all progress. If the weather cooperated, he would have the entire house trim repainted by the end of the week. He adjusted his flight schedule so that his off-time would begin on Saturday when he would drive to see Julie and help her prepare for the move. Some grooms-to-be that he’d known had second thoughts close to their wedding dates, but he was fifty years old and was experiencing the opposite. He was thrilled by the prospect. He could not have dreamed of a more perfect mate, and he’d make whatever adjustments in his lifestyle needed to make her happy.
Under Suspicion
That night, Ryan had walked all around central Lafayette and had a couple prospects for kitchen work and a cleaning company, but he would never pass their security check. Besides, it meant working every night, which wasn’t what he wanted. The