Side by Side by Jenni L. Walsh

Author:Jenni L. Walsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

19

A few afternoons later, I picture Clyde and Buck driving a coupe into some small Minnesota town and waltzing into its bank. They’ll hide, and when it’s the bank’s quitting time, the boys will be locked in ’til a banker opens shop in the morning. Clyde will be waiting with a Good morning and an Empty the vault. It’s another of his clever plans that sounds gravy on paper, but I worry ’bout another fella thinking himself a hero.

Blanche and I stay behind, parked deep in the woods of Minnesota. I eye the trees all ’round us, ones that could come down on us any second. Lightning streaks ignite the night, and I pull my knees to my chest, taking up only a quarter of the sedan’s front bench. Fat raindrops splatter against the windshield, and my goodness … “I’ve just ’bout had enough of these storms.”

“I’ve just ’bout had enough of this life,” Blanche says, her tone snarky.

I match it. “So you’ve said.”

Last I checked, she was lying on her back, arms behind her head, her cheeks rosy, Buck’s trench coat draped over her, the flash of each bolt illuminating her scowl.

Thunder cracks, and I press my hands over my ears as hard as I can, counting to ten before I release them.

“Just go to sleep,” Blanche says. “I’m tired. I’m always tired, and dusty and hungry and cold and scared, and if Clyde picks one more fight with Buck…”

I sit up, the second coat I wear draped over my chest slipping off of me. “Clyde?”

“Yes, Clyde. I don’t know who died and put him in charge, but last time I checked, Buck’s the older of the two.”

The rain turns to hail, how nice, and I shout over the pinging noise, “Age don’t make you more mature.”

“Sure it does,” Blanche yells back.

“Fine, then. I’m older than you, Blanche. Guess you better do as I say.”

“By three months. Spare me, Bonnie.”

The storm screams at us, probably to stop bickering. Holy hell, I wouldn’t be shocked if the wind tilted us onto two tires. I crawl to the driver side of the car, as if my weight will help keep the car down. The sky cracks again, and I let out a small yelp before I can stop myself.

“How is it that you’ve got the nerve to shoot at a real-life, living and breathing human being, but you’re scared of a li’l rain?”

This ain’t a little rain, but that’s beside the point. God’s work isn’t something to mess with, and He is the one behind this storm. Not like I expect Blanche to understand that. Or really, anything ’bout who I’ve become or what I believe. When I pull a gun’s trigger, I do so without thinking, because if I stop to think, it may be too late for Clyde or me.

Blanche won’t touch a gun. She’d never pull a trigger. Lord help her, I hope a bullet—that she could’ve stopped from being fired—never takes out Buck.

I could say as much to her, but it won’t get us anywhere besides into another disagreement.

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