Twenty dollar bills hotter than the smoking gun in the back covered our tracks all the way to the border. We both laughed when she said that we’d lost more than we’d won. The bag in the back lay open and all those dead Presidents stared up at the sky as we laughed under the setting sun, knowing that tomorrow we’d both be dead and none of this would mean anything.
“I keep thinking I can hear the police” I said, turning the music down and looking in the rear view mirror. I saw some of that money floating out. All they had to do was follow the money.
“You’re just hearing things” she said. She looked in the mirror too. She was putting on lipstick. But I knew that she was looking for the cops. She pouted at herself and took a big swig from the bottle of tequila we brought for the ride. “You want some?”
“Nah” I said, looking back into the mirror. I could feel it burning holes in my stomach. “Can you zip that bag up sugar? I hate thinking we spilt a lotta blood for the sake of throwing money out the back of the car.”
She looked at me, and smiled. I couldn’t see her eyes behind those big heart-shaped sunglasses she always wore. She pulled them down the bridge of her little nose and smiled.
“Honey, we both know we aint spending that money on anything but the pleasure of watching it float away.”
“So I aint closing shit.” She lit a cigarette and put her feet up on the dash. I looked back into the mirror. I couldn’t hear anything but the wind and our engine and Iggy Pop. We both just listened.
“I’m hungry. Can we stop in somewhere?”
“Where the fuck we gonna get something to eat round here?” I snapped at her, looking around at the big orange rocks that were all around us. There hadn’t been a sign of life for an hour by that point. The trees had slowly changed into cactus and the eagles into vultures. I thought about trying to shoot one. You know, to keep the buzz going. But I just drank more. “There’s nothing around here but roadkill. And that’s probably all burnt up from his fucking horrible sun. If I was going to eat roadkill I’d at least want it rare!”
“All right, chill baby! Fucking hell.” She looked into the mirror again and pouted. She rubbed her stomach. “Ugh. I’m starving. You know what I could eat right now?” she asked, springing to life and throwing that bottle into her face again.
“What?” I said, still looking at the road in front of us.
“Gravy and biscuits. From The Watermelon.”
“Yeah. Those are good.”
I looked back to the mirror. I didn’t know why.
We both sat in silence for a moment. I couldn’t hear the sirens in my head anymore. I couldn’t hear Iggy screeching. I could only hear the wind. I wondered if either of us would ever get to eat gravy and biscuits at The Watermelon again. I looked over at her. She was moving my Zippo around in her hands. I had no idea what she was thinking about.
“We should have taken stuff from daddy’s.”
“I think we took enough.”
“Fuck that! He owed me. That motherfucker.” She slammed her hand on the dashboard. I jumped a little. The car swerved over the lines in the road that were fast disappearing behind us. “I’m still hungry.”
I looked back into the mirror. I watched the twenties float out over the back seat. He didn’t owe me anything. But I couldn’t help but feel that I owed him a lot.