Lilly Pt. 01

Where I come from, if you see a hitcher, you pull over. It ain't about hospitality, or being a good Christian.

Shit.

It's about being a decent human being.

The name's Law Hubbard, and I work for Goldie Hazleton out of Papillion, Nebraska. If you're from Douglas county, and you ain't heard the name Hazleton, well then I guess you ain't never picked up a newspaper, or turned on a radio.

Mr. Hazleton is the big Cochise when it comes to running drugs and guns through the heartland. He's got connections all through Nebraska, Iowa, South Dakota and Wyoming. Even Colorado.

A lot of people don't know it, but his real name is Colton Hazleton, and I'm his number two guy.

I ain't from Papillion, myself. I was raised out in Sheridan county. Mr. Hazleton told me Papillion's named after a butterfly. Shit, I bet you ain't never even heard of my home town. But I'll tell you this, I know this whole state like the back of my hand, that's for damn sure.

I've worked for Mr. Hazleton since I was sixteen. Started off painting his house. Then, I got promoted to landscaper. I did that for a couple years. Then, I ran errands for his wife, Samantha. Groceries mostly. His kids were in school somewhere in Europe and she was all alone in that big house. I did that for six months.

Then one day, Mr. Hazleton asks me if I could meet a fella down in Naponee and pick up a package, then get that package up to a garage in Lincoln. Shit, I did that trip in five hours flat, and got paid two hundred dollars for it. I'll get my shot at something more managerial-like soon. But for right now, the road is my office.

What do I drive? Shit, a black on black, 1975 Chev-ro-let Blazer.

She's a K5 with the four speed automatic and the four hundred big block. Ain't snow nor sleet that can stop me. I paid for her in cash right on the spot.

She even came with a cassette player. It don't fit my eight tracks, but the radio comes through clear as a bell.

Sitting right on the dash, I got me a brand new, top-of-the-line Bearcat 250 police scanner. Fifty channels, if you can believe that. I know where the speed traps are. I know where the police are having coffee. Hell, there ain't nothing on the open road I don't know about.

Lately I been running cash out to the boys in Valentine, and Bushnell. It's a lot of driving, but like I said, I know this state like the back of my hand. Mr. Hazleton sends me, cause he knows I make the drops on time, every time.

Except this one time.

So on this one trip, I'm heading up to Valentine. I got fifty grand in the glove box, and my loaded Chief's Special under the seat. Before you get all uppity, I ain't no psycho. I've had to pull it a couple times, sure, but I ain't ever fired the thing. Most times, all folks need is to see it pointed at 'em to get the hint.

Anyway, I'm going the usual way I do, the 275 takes you pretty much right there. But on this particular day, my Bearcat squawks around Valley, saying them police got traps south of Fremont. Well, that was right smack dab where I was headed. But them police can kiss my ass, cause you can take the 92 west all the way to Stapleton, and then straight up to Valentine.

If I put the hammer down, I'd make it there with time to spare. Like I said, I know this whole damn state like the back of my hand.

It was round bout Leshara that I saw her.

She had sunglasses on, long golden hair, and a straw hat with a blue ribbon tied round. She was walking backwards, kicking up dust with them black boots, and them hips of hers was just swinging like a church bell under those jean shorts.

She had her thumb out, but I was fixing to pull over anyway. That's just how I was raised. While she ran up, I combed back my hair and lit up a Winston. By the time she got to the window in a cloud of dust, I was leaning back, putting on my best Robert Mitchum face.

"Hey there." She was pulling some of that long yellow hair out of her mouth. I took a long drag off my smoke. She was beautiful.

"Hey yourself, Darlin." I said, cool as all hell. She pulled those sunglasses down her freckly nose and her eyes were blue like the summer sky. She shrugged her purse strap up higher on her shoulder.

"Can I catch a ride with you?" She asked. I remember the radio playing one hell of a Buck Owens tune.

"Well where you headed?" I asked back. I really didn't care. But it's part of the exchange in these encounters.

She looked back down the road, the way she came.

"Far away from here."

"You don't say?" I said, leaning across my long leather bench seat to pop the door for her. "Well hop on in, that's exactly where I'm headed."

Goddam, Lawrence Hubbard, you are one lucky sonofabitch.

We were cruising 92, making great time. The sky was bright and clear and the radio could do no wrong.

The young lady I'd picked up said her name was Lilly, like the flower. I figured she couldn't have been more than nineteen. She was all hectic, looking through her big blue leather bag, then looking in the mirror back down the road.

"Lilly," I said, "Shoot, that's about the prettiest name I ever heard." She smiled. I think she liked hearing that. But she seemed in an awful hurry to get out of whatever place she'd come from, which suited me just fine, seeing as I had a schedule to maintain myself.

Lilly'd been looking in the mirror for the last five miles. Maybe she was expecting to be followed, but if she'd care to ask I'da told her she ain't got no worry with me at the wheel.

On these back roads, no one 'cept the Devil himself could catch me.

"My names Lawrence," I said, seeing as she ain't asked yet, "but folks call me Law."

I guess my confidence eased her mind, cause after a time, she settled in and got herself comfortable. She put her hat on the dash and shook her long blonde hair out.

She asked me, "Mind if I take my boots off, Law?"

And I said, "Make yourself at home Darlin." She peeled those dusty black boots off, then put one little foot up on the dash. She had a blister above her heel.

"You call all the girls Darlin?" She asked. She was rubbing her foot, looking at me sideways. Damn if her bare legs didn't look good enough to eat.

I laughed. "I might do." I said, "But it's only on rare occasion that it befits."

"Well well, handsome and sweet." She said with a big grin.

She put her other foot up on the dash and started massaging it. I had a heck of a time keeping my eyes on the road and off them legs. If she saw me looking, she didn't say.

I make that trip every two weeks, and it gets a little more tedious every time. You can only look at so much corn and so much horizon. I had no idea how far up the road Lilly was going, and I didn't care. I take my job seriously, but I was obliged for the distraction.

Conway Twitty was belting out a brand new song as another cornfield went by.

"Law.." She said, like she was practicing how to say it, "Laaaaw.."

"Don't wear it out, Darlin" I told her. I lit up a Winston and checked those legs out a little more closely. Her knees were scraped up, and those thighs of hers went on forever. Her tanned leather vest was having a hard time keeping her tits from bouncing around.

This time I know she saw me looking. She smiled, but didn't seem to pay it no mind.

"You don't look the type that gets wore out easy, Law." She said. The hell if she wasn't playing with me. She leaned forward and put her head on her knee, looking at me all cutesy. "You think I could get one of them Winstons?" She had good taste in smoke too! But I had to know..

"You gotta be eighteen for these." I said all nonchalant. She chuckled like there was a joke I wasn't in on.

Then she smiled and said, "I'm old enough for a lot more than tobacco, Handsome."

Handsome was it? Well now, I could get used to that.

"Shoot Darlin, then you can have this one right here." I handed her the one I just lit, then lit another. She twirled it between her fingers in between drags. Her nails'd been painted red at some point, but they were chipped up so bad you could hardly tell.

You'd see waitresses dressed like her in the city, working at the bars or whatever. In their forties, divorced with a couple kids, all chewed up and spat out. Lilly looked like she might be running away from a similar such future.

"So," I said casual like, "what set of circumstances leads a fine young lady like yourself to be thumbing east on a day like today?"

Everything on her was moving, whipped up from her open window. The tassels on her vest, her golden hair and the cigarette smoke coming out from between those lips of hers. She was like a pretty little white trash twister. She was looking out the window when she finally answered me.

"What if.. this fine young lady just wanted to take a ride with a handsome stranger?" She asked all sly, "You know.. on a day like today?" This girl had a story to tell, but wasn't about to tell it all right away. That was fine by me, I'd play along.

I had a boot flask full of bourbon under my seat, right next to the 38. I took a nice pull off that and offered a taste to Lilly. She shook her head.

"Fair enough," I said, taking another swig, "Well then I guess I'd say it was destiny that put us both on that road back there at the exact same time." She laughed sort of, under her breath like.

Another cornfield passed us by in a blur.

She said, "Believe in fate, do you Law?" Yeah, this girl had some damage on her, she had a wall up, but I wasn't about to let that bother me none. I tucked the flask back under my seat.

I said, "Well now, there's fate, and then there's destiny, Darlin."

Lilly flicked her butt out the window and took off her sunglasses. Those blue eyes of hers were gorgeous.

"What's the difference?"

"Well," I said, thinking of a slick way to get it out, "I figure destiny's an end you got some say in. But once you ain't got no more say in the matter.. well then that's fate."

She thought about that for a second.

"Well that sounds like the same shit, but just a different pile." She said, looking back out the window. I laughed. She wasn't the philosophical type and that was fine by me.

"Shoot, maybe Darlin. Maybe."

I could feel her looking me over as I drove, one hand on the wheel, the other out the window slapping the door in time with Merle Haggard singing away on the radio. I made a point of catching her looking, and she just smiled.

After another mile or so I asked her, "So, Lilly. What's your story, besides being drop dead gorgeous?" She laughed like she ain't heard a compliment before.

Then she asked me, "Why you asking? You wanna write a book about me or something?" Hell, I could think of a few things about her I'd wanna do, and writing a book wasn't one of them. But I'd play along with her.

"I could write a big old book just looking at you." I said. "But it wouldn't be no children's book." She laughed again. I hoped she knew where I was going with that.

"You sure as shit ain't from out here," I said, "You got a way about you that don't scream farmer."

"A way?" She said, all playful. "And just what kinda 'way' do I have?" Her bag looked expensive, and so did those dusty boots. I ain't never seen a hat like hers in Nebraska and I know this state like the back of my hand. She was dressed like them hippy chicks in the city, showing off enough skin to piss off everybody she passed.

"You got a big city feel about you." I said, "probably Lincoln, maybe Omaha?"

"Well, well.. I'm born and raised in Omaha." She said, "But I wouldn't call that big city."

I chuckled, "Darlin where I come from, Leshara's a big city." She laughed. If she knew this state like I did, she could piece together what kind of shit-hole town I was from. She looked out the window at the fields whipping by.

"Well, I've travelled a bit," she said, "and there's cities out there that go on forever, kinda like these corn fields. They just never end."

"I ain't never left this state," I said, "so I'll take your word for that." I took a pull off my flask, then got to the point.

I asker her, "So how'd you wind up hitching in Leshara then? Ain't nobody got friends there, let alone family."

"No, that's just where I ran out of gas." She said. "No filling station there, not even a payphone." She wasn't lying. Leshara was a post office at best. I took another swig of bourbon and offered the flask to Lilly again.

"If you insist," she said, and took two deep swigs then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes were watering. "Man of God!"

"So you got a husband chasing you?" I asked, "Boyfriend maybe?" She howled, half laughing, half coughing on the bourbon, while slapping on her leg. She held up her left hand.

"You see a ring here?" She asked.

"No ma'am." I said smiling, "You seemed tense back there is all." Lilly's smile faded and she fell quiet, looking back out the window. After a minute I could tell she was crying. She was sniffling back snot when she turned back toward me.

"I don't know about your folks Law, but mine won't let me live my life." She said. "They just want to control everything. Where I go, who I talk to, what I wear for Christ's sake. Sometimes I feel like a fucking prisoner."

I couldn't directly relate, seeing as my real parents never had no control over me. They were pieces of shit. Both of them drunks. They'd take turns whooping my ass, then start in on each other. But just as soon as I could steal my first car, I left them and that shit-hole town in the dust.

I never been back, and I never intend to.

I didn't know what real family felt like 'til I started working for Mr. Hazleton. Shit, Mr. and Mrs. Hazleton were more like parents to me than my actual folks ever were.

"I just want to be free of all their bullshit," she said, "I just want to live my life, y'know?"

On that I could relate. "I hear you loud and clear, Darlin." I said, and lit two more Winstons.

After a few miles of silence between us, Lilly turned toward me, and I could tell there weren't nothing under that vest 'cept for two handfuls of bouncing tits.

"So, what do you do, Law?" She asked.

I asked her back, "What is it that you think I do, Lilly Darlin?"

She rubbed her chin like she was a big city detective. "Hmm." She said.

Well now, it was my turn to play with her for a bit.

"I'll tell you what," I said, "You get three guesses."

She squinted her eyes at me. "And then what?" I hadn't really thought about that, but looking at them titties bouncing around in her leather vest was giving me some bold ideas.

I shrugged. "Maybe you get out and walk from here." She pretended like she was all taken aback, even though I wouldn't have pulled over for all the bourbon in Tennessee.

"I'm sure you can think of a better punishment than that, Law." She said. Right away she showed me she was a sport about it, leaned back and started playing like she was examining me. She scrunched up her freckly nose.

"Let's see.." She said, "You ain't no farmer." That was obvious. My red tabs were new, so were my boots. And I took care of them both. My red plaid button up had no sleeves and I left it open to let my chest breathe. That was one guess down.

"No ma'am. Not even close."

"And you're too pretty for the railroad." Well well. I don't like to honk my own horn, but I will admit, at a certain angle, in a certain light, I can turn a head or two. There was the second guess.

"Shoot Darlin, flattery'll get you somewhere real quick." I told her. "Be careful now, you only got one guess left."

"Not so fast, handsome," she said, "I ain't asked you nothing yet. Them first two were statements." Goddam it. She was good, I had to give her that.

I told her, "Don't you be cheating, now." She put a finger between her teeth and grinned ear to ear. She was liking this game.

Then she gasped, making her eyes all wide, pretending she was scared, "You're an escaped convict.." She said, "You just roam around the state, waiting to pick up girls like me. Ain't that right?"

"Maybe.." I said, interested, "Maybe not."

"You tear all their clothes off, and have your way with them.."

"Hmm.. Go on.." I wanted to see how far she was taking this.

"..and then you chop them up, and bury them out in these fields here." Goddam, this girl was full of imagination.

I said, "What makes you think I don't chop em up first?"

She leaned over and slapped my arm. "Ew, that's gross Law!" Then she lifted one eyebrow at me, "Wait, don't tell me you're an insurance salesman?" She said.

I laughed out loud. Just imagine. "And what if I was?" I asked, "what's so wrong with selling insurance?" She laughed right back.

"Nothing at all," she said, "if you don't mind sitting around watching your cock get smaller, day in, day out." She certainly had her opinions. In my line of work there was a lot of driving to be done, but running drugs and guns for Mr. Hazleton made my cock anything but small.

If she wanted, I'd show her in a heartbeat.

"To the contrary." I told her, and lit two Winstons, one for me, one for her.

All of a sudden my Bearcat squawked up.

"Car two and eight east on 92 approaching Polk county line."

There were two cruisers heading right toward us. They were a couple miles out, but that didn't leave much time to get the hell off that highway and out of sight. Lilly put her foot down and grabbed the dash.