Chapter 22

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Chapter 22

California - Section 12500

Operating a Motorcycle without a Motorcycle Endorsement

"WHAT?" SUSAN TURNED to look out the back window. Twenty-dollar bills were flying out of the back of the truck bed. "Pull over!"

I steered the car to the side of the road.

Susan hopped out to shut the briefcase.

For a brief moment I saw a gun, just before Susan stuffed it into her jacket.

Susan crawled around in the truck bed looking for loose twenties. She jumped out of the truck and started walking in the opposite direction to pick up the bills.

I leaned my head out the window. "Get back in the fucking truck, Susan." Of all the bank robbers in America, I had to get stuck with the stupidest, battiest one.

Susan was pouting when she got back in the truck. I drove off, but after a long silence Susan whined: "Don't swear at me."

I remembered the gun tucked into Susan's jacket. "Sorry, I'm just hungry. I haven't eaten in a while." Twenty-dollar bills hung out of Susan's overall pockets.

"We should head up to Yuba City," Susan said, her mood miraculously improved. "I know this crab place."

The thought of Yuba City, not San Francisco, made me wince, but I said: "Fine. Just point me the way."

I enjoyed the silence again for the next hour of the drive. But the money in the back and the gun in the crazy woman's jacket weighed heavily my mind. I could see it was weighing on Susan as well.

Once in Yuba City, Susan pointed the way to 'The Crab Shack.'

Susan wrestled the leather case from the truck and sat it on the floor under the table. I put my purse right next to it.

I ordered the cheapest, heartiest thing on the menu, a stuffed crab pasta dish. I felt ill after eating half of it, but forced myself to finish every morsel. I nodded at the waiter every time he asked if we wanted more bread and water. I stuffed five rolls in my purse, wrapped in one of the cloth napkins.

Susan saw me doing this and said: "My great aunt used to do that. She used the napkin as underwear too. At least when the rolls were eaten."

Using a napkin as underwear? I didn't say anything, preferring to keep my food down. At least Susan hadn't noticed I was also stealing twenties from her leather case. I excused myself to the bathroom after finishing most of my pasta dish.

On the way back from the bathroom I spotted a California state trooper entering the restaurant. I ducked behind a wall just in time to hear the hostess say, "She's over there. There's another woman with her too, but I don't know where she went."

I looked for a way to get out of the restaurant without going by the troopers, but the only way out was through the kitchen.

There was an apron hanging from the hostess station. As the hostess left to lead the state troopers through the restaurant, I grabbed the apron. With the apron on, I walked through the kitchen. One of the cooks looked up, wiped his face with his forearm, and then went back to chopping onions.

I walked out the back door. I was halfway across the grass to the next restaurant when a man called from behind me, "Hey!"

I looked back. A fat man in a 'Crab Shack' apron called after me, "You know you can't take the apron home."

I slipped it off, "Oh sorry."

He ran up to take it from me. "And make sure the next time you come in you have the right shoes, or Jimmy will write you-" Gunshots rang out from the restaurant. He turned away. "What the fuck?"

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