Bonnie gave the new silver Lexus the reins and it moved faster and faster up the straight highway, pulling ahead of the freight train next to them, shooting them up through the Texas Panhandle, where speed limits were barely even a suggestion. This was the best, and possibly the last, of the stolen cars that had taken them through the south, serving as perfect mechanical companions in the seven bank robberies they had committed in small towns along the way. The license plates had been changed and the car was running like a wild stallion was headed out over the plains.
Their capers were carefully designed to ensure that no one got hurt. Claudette flirted with the guards in the small banks, while flipping back the long black hair of her wig. Those fellows get bored, you know. On the other side of the room Bonnie, who was dressed in the work clothes of a farmer, clutched the handle of the toy gun that peeked out of her pocket just far enough to be visible to the teller. She was never greedy. Never asked for the entire amount in the drawer.
Claudette had slept through the night in the passenger seat and Plastic Paula had been inflated and waited patiently in the back seat for her next assignment to get the women into carpool lanes. It was important for bank robbers to avoid the cameras in toll booths. Plastic Paula was a real as any friend they had and was reassuringly silent about their activities. Always did her job with a smile.
The immediate goal was to arrive at the grain elevator near the border between Texas and Oklahoma before the morning shift of workers filed into the yard. Growing up in the Texas plains Bonnie and Claudette had found their most romantic moments at the tops of grain elevators. Some folks might think that the rows of concrete cylinders rising 120 feet in the air were a blight but to the young lovers they were as beautiful as any natural vista. They were the most vertical thing in a totally horizontal landscape, rising proudly in the sky, calling to them from miles away.
There would be no guards. Just a very tall chain-link fence with razor wire on top. Even criminals less skilled than Bonnie and Claudette carried wire cutters, so there would be no problem getting through the fence, as long as they arrived well before the morning light.
The Lexus nosed quietly up to the fence and Bonnie woke Claudette. “This is it, Baby. Grab your pack and take Plastic Paula. I’ll take the wire cutters. Better hurry, girl. Clouds behind the elevator look a little like tornado clouds, so we’ll have to beat them into Oklahoma. Long way to Canada.”
Bonnie was used to hefting heavy packs, so climbing the long zigzag stairway to the top of the elevator was an easy undertaking for her formidable calves. The bulky and awkward ring box concealed in her front pocket was only a minor aggravation compared with the anticipation of the perfect surprise engagement ring she would give Claudette when they reached the top.
Claudette, only slightly winded from lugging Plastic Paula, took the last step to the top. Bonnie took a bottle of the poshest Champagne out of her pack while Claudette fished out a sun hat the same shade as Paula’s red dress, fitting it securely on the plastic head and tying it under her chin. Paula was propped up by the railing, looking out at the outstanding view.
By the time the first workers noticed that the fence had been cut, the timid morning sun was trying with small success to climb past the hostile tornado clouds. When the workers looked up, they saw a woman in a red dress and a red sun hat standing perilously close to the railing at the top of the elevator.
“Oh man,” the foreman said when he picked up the empty ring box at the bottom of the stairs. “He changed his mind. She’s gonna jump. You guys get up there NOW!”
So, the workers, enjoying the sense of feeling more essential than they felt in a normal work day, hastily formed a rescue party. A few of them beginning the long climb up the stairway, while others set up a net near the bottom hoping to catch the woman, who might jump before the others got to the top. Some of them imagined articles about heroes in the local paper, imagined the pouring out of gratitude by the woman’s family, imagined their wives serving steak dinners and beer in their honor.
Bonnie and Claudette and the Lexus stallion dominated the long straight roads running north. The radio gave them acoustic blues with an inspiring harmonica as a fitting sound track for their escape adventure. The rising sun caught the facets of the diamond ring that sparkled like the promise of a new life in Canada.
They would miss Plastic Paula. But they would not miss Texas.
Sandra studied literature at the University of Texas but eventually left Texas to build a bigger life. She lives on a hillside in San Francisco with her wife and a dog named Maggie.
