Shallow Life Shallow Death

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Shallow Life Shallow Death

By Ralph Pilolli

S S

H H

A A

L L

O O

W W

LIFE DEATH

Surprised ya, didn’t I, Bobby Joe? The cops are lookin’ for a blue Chevy, and we pulled a switcheroo at that underground parking structure, and ‘voila’ here we are drivin’ away in a pearl white ‘Mark VIII’. Brilliant idea of mine, if I do say so myself. What do ya think, huh, Bobby Joe?

Come on, Bobby Joe, talk to me!

Okay, okay. I understand, Bobby Joe. I know ya can hear me. And I know you’re hurtin’ bad, but if it helps any, you don’t seem to be bleedin’ like you was.

Ya know, Bobby Joe, this is what I call ‘Getaway Weather’. Know what I’m saying, Bobby Joe? Give me or Rudolf, that Red Nosed Reindeer, icy roads, and there ain’t a cop nowhere that can stay with us. Ha, Ha! Funny, huh, Bobby Joe?

Even funnier, I can’t help thinkin’ about these bulletproof vests being your idea, and you go and get nicked in the head. Ya know, Bobby Joe, only you.

Just hold on, ol’ buddy. A mile or so past the bridge and we’ll be at the farm. I got a plane there, and we’re off to paradise.

MAKE A NOISE, WILL YA, BOBBY! AT LEAST LET ME KNOW IF YOU’RE ALIVE OR DEAD!

Okay! Sorry, Bobby Joe. But if nothin’ else, think of the money. Got to be over a hundred grand. So now, ya got a reason to hang on. Right?

THERE! I can see the bridge. See the bridge, Bobby?

Oh, shit! Cops. Damn, if they ain’t checkin’ them cars on the other end.

For crissake. What’s with the crazies in the helicopter? Those empty headed, numskull cops, flyin’ in this weather. How did they know? One thing for sure, they don’t know it’s us.

Got to be calm and think fast. Hear me, Bobby Joe? Stay down! That farm house by the river front looks like the ticket. Maybe it’s time we become one of the local hicks. Yeah. One of the locals. Ya like that Bobby Joe?

That stupid helicopter is followin’ us. I’m gonna get out and wave at them from the front porch.

I’m back, Bobby Joe, and the dumb cops bought it. They’re goin’ away. You hear me, Bobby Joe?

You almost look comfortable sittin’ there in that leather bucket seat, Bobby. I don’t think I want to move you right yet.

Been figurin’ on how to get across that bridge, but first I’m gonna take a closer peek at that wound of yours. Okay, Bobby Joe?

Shit, man, no wonder you can’t talk. In fact, it’s a wonder you’re still breathin’. Yeah, Bobby Joe, it doesn’t seem like you’ll be much for travelin’.

Gets me thinkin’, Bobby Joe. I was lookin’ at the riverbed from the house. It’s dry, except for a few puddles. I can walk across that riverbed.

Better yet, ya know what Bobby Joe? Since nobody’s home, and I seen a tractor over in that open barn, and I betcha I can find some overalls somewhere around along with a straw hat, and ‘voila’, I become a local hick. Nice touch, huh, Bobby? Then I’m gonna drive that tractor up to the bridge, and tell them cops I’m crossin’ to go check my fields.

Sound like a good plan, Bobby Joe?

Course, you can’t go with me, the way you’re bleedin’ and all. And you know how good I am with a knife. It’ll be quick, Bobby Joe.

Whooo-weee! This tractor is more fun than robbin’ banks the way it’s slippin’ and slidin’ on this ice rink for a bridge. Now how do I stop this thing? That cop just ain’t going to wave me by.

Oh, shit! Out of control! Gonna hit the side! I’m goin’ over!

Am I dead yet? Guess not. But I feel so free. The fallin’ part was easy. Waitin’ to hit bottom is what’s hell.

Shit! Puddle of water in my nose. Can’t move! Can’t breathe! Where are you, Bobby Joe, when I need you? My EX, she always nagged me about leading a shallow life. Ha! How ‘bout a…shallow…death…….