Fedora Outlaw by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

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Chapter 9

 

It was now two in the morning of Sunday, May 19, 1935. It was a clear night with a beautiful full moon that illuminated the countryside.

Clark drove the Cadillac down a dirt driveway that led to another abandoned farm in southeastern Oklahoma. It was located four miles north of the small town of Winston. That town was five miles north of the Ouachita National Forest.

There was one thing for sure, and that was that one could find tons of abandoned farmhouses in Oklahoma during these times. The Dust Bowl caused families to evacuate their homes and migrate to California.

Dirk had used this house in the past because there was a beautiful creek nearby for bathing or water for cooking. But when his gang had previously hidden at this farm, he paid the farmer good money for keeping their mouths shut. They did, and that money helped them migrate to California for a fresh start in life.

"Park in the barn," Dirk told Clark.

Clark turned to the left and drove through the grass to the barn.

The door was already opened, as it was about to fall apart.

Clark parked the car deep inside the barn to be out of view from the outside.

He turned off the engine.

Everybody got out and grabbed all the suitcases, Frost Brothers shopping bags and the Thompson machine gun cases.

They walked out of the barn then walked off to the abandoned farmhouse.

The front door was locked, but that didn't stop the gang. Jerome and Carl kicked in the front door, and they went inside the dark living room.

"Find a place to sleep except for Clark. I want him to take watch until breakfast," said Dirk now trusting that his newest member wouldn't turn and run to the cops. After all, Jake Johnson was now officially part of the gang and could be deemed an accessory to the Frost Brothers department store robbery, and he also stole a car in Garden Ridge. Dirk now had complete control of this kid.

"Here's some protection," said Dirk after he reached inside his suit coat and removed his Colt 45.

Clark was shocked when Dirk handed him his Colt 45. "Thanks," he said and looked at the Colt. He got a little intimidated by the feel of this weapon in his hand. He slipped it into his right suit coat pocket.

Everybody cautiously walked around in the dark and eventually found the stairs that led up to the second floor.

Everybody went upstairs and found a place to sleep.

Dirk and Marge found the parents bedroom and was glad the bed was still there with sheets and covers.

They were soon stripped down to their underwear, slipped under the covers and was soon sound asleep.

Downstairs the house was spooky, dark and quiet.

Clark sat on the worn and dusty couch. He wondered what he would do if the cops suddenly showed up to raid the house. He silently prayed that that wouldn't happen. He didn't like firing any pistol or rifle at a target let alone at a human.

Clark was exhausted from driving and fought from falling asleep. He feared Dirk's wrath if he was caught with his eyes closed. So he got up off the couch and walked around the first floor of the house to stay awake.

It was now six in the morning. The sun was peeking above the horizon for the start of another Sunday morning. So many people in the area were rising out of bed to get ready for church.

Clark sat on the couch. He was having trouble keeping his eyes opened and came close to falling asleep.

He caught himself nodding off a couple of times.

He heard footsteps coming down the creaky wooden stairs.

He got up off the couch and headed to the doorway of the living room.

He saw a pair of sexy legs slowly making their way down the stairs. She moved erotically down the creaky steps.

He smiled at that sight.

Marge got to the bottom of the stairs and saw Clark. She noticed he looked exhausted. "You need some sleep, Jake," she said.

"I know," he replied, then yawned.

"I'm going outside to get some wood for the fireplace," she said.

"I'll help," said Clark then he yawned again.

"Okay, but don't fall asleep on me," she said with a light chuckle then walked over to the front door.

"I won't," he replied, following her outside.

They turned off to the left and headed to the woods. He yawned again.

They searched the woods for small branches and some kindling.

After they scooped up what they needed for a fire, they walked back into the farmhouse.

After they got the fire lit in the fireplace, Marge started brewing some coffee.

She cooked up the rest of the bacon and eggs. It wasn't much but better than nothing.

Dirk was the first one up and came downstairs.

He saw Clark on the couch about to fall asleep and Marge cooking bacon and eggs in the fireplace.

"Jake, go upstairs and get some sleep," said Dirk while he walked over to the couch.

"Okay," said Clark then yawned while standing up.

While Clark headed out of the living room, Marge poured Dirk a cup of coffee.

"What do you think of our new guy?" asked Dirk as Clark was out of sight.

"He'll do just fine," said Marge then she discreetly hid her smile from Dirk so he wouldn't figure out that she took a liking to the newbie.

After Clark found the empty bedroom used by Marge and Dirk, the other three guys woke up to the smell of the bacon.

They headed downstairs while Clark drifted off to sleep.

It was ten that morning, and Clark was still sound asleep in the upstairs bedroom.

Downstairs in the living room, Dirk, Jerome, Peter, and Carl cleaned their Colt 45s.

Marge sat out on the porch on an old kitchen chair, smoking a cigarette.

Down in Austin, Texas, Wallace left the motor court and walked over to the diner for breakfast.

After eating an excellent pancake breakfast, he wondered about town snapping more pictures.

Then he walked upon the Austin First Baptist Church.

He stopped. He remembered that church when he was a kid. His parents and grandparents dragged him to it every Sunday morning in the forties and fifties.

He recalled that day when the old white wooden church was torn down in 1962 for the construction of a larger house of worship.

He hadn't been back to that church since he graduated from college.

While he walked closer to the church, he could see everybody leaving the sermon and walking over to their cars.

Wallace stopped by the side of the road by the entrance to the church.

His eyes widened the second he saw some familiar faces while they exited the church.

Wallace watched these faces while they walked over to a black 1932 Ford pickup truck. It was a truck he knew all too well.

He waited and watched while the cars and pickup trucks started to leave the dirt parking lot of the church.

His eyes widened, and he got a little nervous when he saw his grandfather Victor driving the pickup with grandmother Alice in the passenger seat. Ernie sat in the bed of the truck on a clean blanket.

Victor stopped his pickup and glanced over at Wallace, standing by the side of the road. He stared at Wallace.

Alice stared at Wallace.

Ernie saw Wallace from the bed of the truck. "I like that suit. I'll have to save up and get me one," he said while glanced at Wallace while his dad drove down the road.

Victor gave Wallace a little nod for a greeting.

Wallace replied a nod.

Victor pulled out onto the road.

While Victor turned the pickup truck left onto the road, Wallace got a good glimpse of his young father. He stared in awe at his dad, who looked so young and vibrant.

Wallace turned around and headed back toward town to go back to the motor court.

Victor drove his pickup down the road with something on his mind. He looked over at Alice. "You know something, that old man on the road back there sure looked familiar," he said to Alice.

She glanced over at him. "I was going to say the same thing. I had this feeling he was kin," she said.

"Kin," said Victor then he thought about her reply for a few seconds.

"Yeah, that's it. He felt like kin for some strange reason."

Alice thought about Wallace for a few seconds. "I don't believe we have any other kin we don't know about here in town," she said.

Victor thought about her reply for a few seconds. "Me neither," he said.

Victor drove down the road, and they both forgot about Wallace after they were two miles away from the church.

It was now two in the afternoon, and Clark woke up.

He stared around the room in a bit of a daze, not knowing where he was for a few seconds. He remembered he went back to 1935 and was now part of the Dirk Beaumont gang. He smiled while he got out of the bed and got dressed in his suit.

He headed off back down the creaky stairs.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he heard chatter from the living room.

He walked into the living room.

Dirk sat on the couch and Jerome and Peter slowly rocking in wooden rocking chairs.

The three empty Frost Brothers department store shopping bags were scattered on the floor.

"About time," said Dirk when he realized Clark entered the living room.

"Hey," said Clark while he walked over and sat down on the floor. He looked around the room for Marge.

Then he saw her out on the front porch smoking a cigarette.

Dirk reached inside his right suit coat pocket. He pulled out a small wad of cash. "We got sixty thousand from yesterday's heist. Here's your share. It's small, but if you keep on doing what you're doing, the shares will start to get bigger," he said, then held out the cash.

"The ones out there doing the heists get a bigger share since we're in the line of fire," added in Jerome.

Peter nodded in agreement.

Clark took the cash and estimated it was to be five hundred dollars. He was in awe because he could never earn five hundred dollars a day during his time, slaving over greasy car engines.

The front door opened and Carl entered with a roll of toilet paper in hand.

"Watch out where you step in the woods," he said jokingly while he walked through the living room and walked to the kitchen. He left the toilet paper roll on the counter then walked back to the living room.

Marge finished her cigarette on the front porch. The front door opened, and she entered the living room.

Clark watched her legs while she walked over and sat down on the couch with Dirk.

Carl removed a deck of cards from his front suit coat pocket. "Game of poker?" he asked Jerome and Peter.

"Sure," replied Peter while got out of his rocking chair.

Jerome nodded that he wanted to play while he got out of the rocking chair.

"How about you, Jake?" asked Carl while he shuffled the cards.

"Ah, sure," replied Clark and liked being treated like one of the guys.

Jerome, Peter, and Carl headed off into the kitchen to play on the kitchen table.

Clark got up and followed the guys.

The game of poker got started, as this was often the usual entertainment to kill time while on the lamb from the law.

After playing two hours of poker, Clark never won a hand. He, in fact, sucked at playing cards and received a lot of ribbing from the guys. But at least the numerous card games killed time.

Marge started making supper for the guys.

She went outside and gathered up more branches and kindling for another fire in the fireplace.

After the fire got started, she started cooking the cans of baked beans.

Marge dumped baked beans onto the four plates and left Clark's portion in the pot.

They sat around the living room, eating their boring supper.

"Man, I could use a thick fucking steak," said Carl sick and tired of eating beans.

"We'll head to Memphis after the bank job on Wednesday. We'll party hard and eat at some nice restaurants," said Dirk as he was also getting tired of beans and the thought of a thick Prime Rib made his mouth water.

Clark thought about Dirk's reply for a few seconds. He knew he couldn't tell Dirk that that day would be a disaster. But how could he save them and hopefully change their destiny to a longer life? He remained quiet while he ate his beans out of the pot.

After dinner, Marge went over to the creek to wash the plates, pot, and utensils.

Dirk, Jerome, Peter, and Carl broke out the last two Mason jars of Moonshine.

They sat around the living room, getting drunk to pass away the time.

"Here," said Peter while he handed Clark a jar.

Clark took a small drink and immediately started choking while his face turned beet red.

Dirk, Peter, Jerome, and Carl all busted out laughing with Clark's red face and eyes that bugged out.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," said Dire between laughs.

"I'm going out to see if Marge needs help," said Clark between coughs then he handed the Mason jar to Dirk.

Clark walked away and headed to the front door.

Dirk took a drink of Moonshine while he watched Clark go outside.

Clark walked through the woods and headed to the creek.

He saw Marge kneeling down washing the pot in the flowing water of the creek.

She heard small branches breaking and knew someone was walking up behind her.

She smiled and hoped it was that particular person.

"Need some help?" asked Clark while he walked closer.

"Sure, Jake," she said then smiled again that it was Clark. She knew none of the other guys would offer to help.

Clark knelt down and picked up one of the dirty plates. He started washing it off in the creek.

"Did the guys break out a jar of whiskey?"

"Yeah, the last two."

"Oh, I think Dirk is going to get some more when we get to Arkansas," she said then made one final rinse of the pot.

It took Clark a few seconds for what she said to sink in his head. "Did you say Arkansas?"

"Yeah, we're going to Arkansas to hang before Wednesday's job," she said while she started washing off one of the other plates.

Clark thought nothing of heading to Arkansas while he finished washing that plate.

It remained quiet while they washed the dishes in the creek.

Marge and Clark were finished. They gathered up everything and headed back into the woods.

After they came out of the woods, they heard singing coming from the farmhouse.

"Oh no," said Marge a little fearful that that would attract unwanted attention.

The closer they got to the house, the singing got louder.

"Drifting along with the tumbling, tumbling, tumbling, tumbleweed," Dirk, Jerome, Peter and Carl all sang out in unison but in four different keys.

"I hate it when they sing. I'm glad we're robbing banks and whatnot because they would never make a living being singers," said Marge in a joking manner.

Clark gave a light chuckle while he opened up the front door for Marge.

"Thank you," she said, then slipped into the house.

When Marge and Clark got inside the living room, they saw Dirk, Jerome, Peter, and Carl all sitting on the couch, arm in arm swaying back and forth.

"Drifting along with the tumbling, tumbling, tumbling, tumbleweed," Dirk, Jerome, Peter, and Carl all sang out again in unison but now in four other keys.

"Keep it down. You'll have the cops here any second," Marge said in a scolding motherly tone.

"Shhhh!" said Dirk, then he took another drink. "We don't want the cops to take away our shine," he said then he laughed while he handed the Mason jar to Jerome.

Dirk got up off the couch.

He staggered and swayed over to Clark almost tripping over his own two feet.

"Hey, buddy. We missed you," he said in Clark's face almost falling overtaking Clark down with him.

Clark turned away as Dirk's breath reeked of Moonshine. He thought he might get drunk just off of his breath.

Dirk placed an arm around Clark. "I'm so, so glad I met you. You're such a nice guy to have in my gang. Such a great mechanic and a good car thief. I have great plans for you, my friend. Great plans," he said then walked away and staggered and swayed back to the couch. He plopped his butt down on the couch.

Clark felt proud that Dirk thought highly of him even though he was drunk.

He still believed it came from the heart.

"Guess I'm not getting any tonight," said Marge under her breath and was disappointed Dirk had to get drunk again tonight.

She walked off to place the pot, plates, and utensils in the kitchen.

Clark walked away to the kitchen.

"Sing it again," yelled out Dirk while Clark and Marge placed the pot, plates, and utensils back in her suitcase.

"Drifting along with the tumbling, tumbling, tumbling, tumbleweed," Dirk, Jerome, Peter, and Carl all sang out again in unison but now in four other keys.

"I'm really starting to hate that song," she told Clark.

Clark smiled as he knew the feeling.

"They should be out soon," she said then looked at Clark then she reached for her pack of Camels on the counter. She removed a cigarette and lit it then grabbed the pack and offered a cigarette to Clark.

"Naw," he said then glanced back at the living room where the guys were now quiet.

"I'm going to head out to the barn and make sure the car is ready for tomorrow," he said just wanting something to do to kill time.

"I'll go outside with you," said Marge.

The two left the kitchen and walked outside from the kitchen door.

Marge just smoked cigarette after cigarette while she watched Clark look over the Cadillac. She had nasty thoughts run through her mind.

It was now ten after nine that night.

Dirk, Jerome, Peter, and Carl were all passed out from polishing off all their Moonshine. Dirk and Peter were slumped out on the couch while Jerome and Carl were sprawled out on the floor. The empty Mason jars were on the floor.

Marge and Clark were buzzed but not falling on your face drunk.

Marge walked out the front door.

Clark watched her and got curious.

He gingerly walked to the living room window and peeked through the old worn curtains. He watched while Marge lit a cigarette while she stood on the porch and stared at the woods.

The full moon provided enough light for him to spy on this goddess.

Marge smoked her cigarette outside and could sense Clark was eyeing her from the living room window. S