Blackbirds
Lane and stuff a rag in the gas tank and blow that sucker to Timbuktu. Or maybe take fate into your own hands right now – grab a butter knife off the counter and saw this stupid woman's head clean off. If you kill her first, it doesn't count, right?
      But Miriam just smiles, shrugs, and pushes past.
      The waitress watches her go, equal parts confused and pleased.
      Miriam sits, and Ashley's polishing off his coffee.
      "So, how's Flo bite it?"
      "Car accident. Truck slams into her." He cocks an eyebrow. "What, do you want me to prove it? Hold on, we just have to get to my time-traveling Delorean parked out back by the dumpster. We'll go back to the future and you can see I'm telling the truth."
      "All right, all right, let's say I believe you."
      "Lucky me."
      "I have a proposal for you."
      "No, I will not marry you. The baby's not yours. It's a mixedrace baby, and last I checked, you don't look Eskimo."
      "I want to work together."
      "Work." She says the word like she's looking at a dog turd. "Really? Us? Work together?"
      "Like a volleyball team. You set 'em up, I spike it. Let's be frank, Miss Black – you need my help bad."
      "I need neither shit nor shinola from you." Under her breath, she adds: "Not that I know what shinola is."
      "The old bastard. Benson. With the dick pill problem. He had a safe, right?"
      "So?"
      " So , people keep things in safes. Important things. Money. Guns. Jewels. Gold doubloons, whatever. I can crack a safe."
      "Who can actually do that? Is that what they're teaching at community college these days? You're telling me you can actually crack a safe."
      "You bet."
      "I don't need what's in a safe. I told you, I don't get greedy." She reaches into her bag, finds some money, tosses it atop the bill. "There. I'm paid up. This is where we part ways. Thanks for the fun time last night. All that… violent monkey sex? With the choking and shit? It was a lovely time. But I'm done here. You have a great life."
      She stands.
      He puts his hand on her wrist. He tightens his grip. It doesn't hurt. Not yet.
      "You're only going where I tell you to go," he says, giving her a flash of that winning smile. He loves this, she can tell. "I will call the cops. I will sell you up the river. Furthermore, I've got one more little surprise for you."
      Miriam ponders breaking his nose. It'll draw attention, though.
      "I did a little look-see into your past. It's not like a girl like you has a big trail, but it did lead me to your mother. She's alive and well. Maybe you knew that, maybe you didn't. But I can see the way your lip is twitching that this is getting to you. It's okay. I have a mother, too, and I know how it can be. Love and disappointment, those perpetual dance partners, right? You bail on me, and I'll go to her. I'll tell her everything. Maybe she'll believe me, maybe she won't. But I think she'll know the scoop. I think she'll be sad to know that you're out there, banging rednecks and losers, stealing from the dead, and just being an all-around tramp. You want that?"
      Her teeth grit together so hard, she thinks they might snap into little pieces.
      "Are we in business together?" he asks.
      "You going to tell me what's in that metal suitcase under the bed?"
      "Nope." He smirks.
      "I hate you," is her response.
      "You love me, because we're the same." He stands up and reaches in to get a kiss. She turns her cheek, and that's where it lands.
      Ashley lets go of her wrist and heads to pay the bill.
      Everything feels like a wave crashing down on her. She closes her eyes and thinks, maybe this is how it has to go. This is fate, after all. Destiny. The undertow will pull her down one of these days. It'll drag her out to sea. Forever lost within the swaying seaweed and fish bones.
      The diary will be done, and that will be that.
      It is what it is.

 
     
     
     
     
     
PART TWO

 
 
THIRTEEN
    Harriet and

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