The following is a fictionalized account of the end of Charles Arthur "Prettyboy" Floyd, the notorious bank robber and gangster. Other than Adam Richetti who was with him on his last job, all the other characters are purely fictional.
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Charlie Floyd and Adam Richetti backed out of the bank with sacks of cash in one hand and guns pointed in the other.
It was their third job this month and had been the easiest, that is until some lucky cop down the street just happened to see them step out of the bank.
"HALT! AND DROP THOSE GUNS" he yelled as he pulled out his service revolver.
Richetti turned and fired a wild shot as Charlie jumped in the driver's seat. "GET IN!" Charlie yelled. It was the last words Adam ever heard, as the bullet struck him in the back of the head as he tried to climb in.
Charlie saw his dead compadre face down on the sidewalk and with bullets zinging into the car, he knew there wasn't any point hanging around, so he took off. Adam was a buddy, but his dead body wasn't worth going to the pen for.
One thing Charlie always prided himself on, besides his legendary good looks and big cock, was his ability to pick fast cars and drive the hell out of them. He knew that the local cops didn't have radios like the state troopers, so once he got out of the county he slowed down and began wondering what to do next. He decided to go to Chicago, but knew he had to get out of the state first.
That's when he noticed the gas gage. DAMMIT why didn't he fill up BEFORE the job. There was no map of these back roads and the highways would be dangerous so he prayed he'd run across some small gas station close by.
But luck was not on Charlie's side this day. As the car began to stutter, he looked for a place to pull off and ditch the car. A few hundred feet ahead was a deep culvert. That would have to do. The car died and he pushed it the last few feet into the ditch and then broke off some limbs in a feeble attempt to cover it up. It wasn't much but it would have to do.
He stuffed the gun in his belt and grabbed the bag of cash and then left the road in search of a car to steal.
Edith Walters starred down at the bed of flowers she was making; the same bed that she once planted with her husband, before he took off without a word.
They were newlyweds before the depression; happy, deeply in love, with dreams and aspirations as high as the sky. He got a loan to buy the farm and they set out to realize their version of the American dream. They tried to have kids, it just wasn't in the cards. But that never stopped them from trying. Day and night, good days or bad, it didn't matter, they just loved the passion.
But when times got bad, Joe's interest began to wane, and the worse it got, the more he withdrew. Then the registered letter came. They were being repossessed. Three days later Joe said he was going to town to see if he could make some deal with the banker, but he never came home. That was nine months ago and she hadn't heard from him since. Luckily, some oil company came by and offered some cash for the rights to drill an oil well which was good enough to keep the bank vultures at bay and even enough for Ellen buy a tractor for that day when Joe came home.
Charlie figured he had walked at least three miles and was getting very thirsty. As he came over the next hill he saw a farm house with a woman out back. It looked like she was watering flowers or something. He didn't see a car or more importantly, a telephone pole, anywhere near the house, so he shoved his gun into the belt behind his back and shoved the bag of money into a thicket close by. Then he set off for the farm house.
"Howdy Ma'am", Charlie announced as Edith was bent over the flowers.
Edith nearly jumped out of her dress. "Oh my God, you scared me to death!" she replied as she turned and stood up.
Charlie looked her over but tried not to be obvious about it. Ummm... not bad, but kinda scrawny for a farmin' girl.., he thought ...a little plain too maybe, but they all can't be showgirls. "Forgive me Ma'am, didn't mean to scare ya... just passin by and wondered if you'd mind if I took a drink from your spigot there".
"Well.... I suppose." Edith pulled the hair from her eyes. "Who are you? I haven't seen you around here before".
"Forgive me Ma'am." Charlie took off his hat and offered his hand. "I'm Charles Frank, Ma'am. Pleased to meet ya".
Edith kept her hands on her apron. She studied his face for a bit. My word, this man may have the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. "I'm Mrs. Walters... the water's free...drink all you want".
As Charlie leaned over to drink, she looked him over. He sure was a fancy dresser. Probably some kinda salesman, damn good looking though that's for sure. "Where ya from Mister? And why ya here"?
Charlie wiped the water off his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well I'm from Oklahoma Ma'am. I was drivin' through and my car run outta gas a ways back and I was hopin to walk up on some gas station or a friendly farmer who might have some spare gas. Is your husband around Ma'am"?
"Well my husband is ahh... out right now...." Those eyes are making her melt inside... and she admonished herself to staring, lest he figure her out "...but I might have some diesel from the tractor in the barn".
" 'Fraid diesel won't work. When will Mr. Walters be back"? Just then a scent caught Charlie's nose. They were right by the kitchen window. He sniffed the air like a basset hound. Seeing him sniff the air and anxious to change the subject, Edith offered an invitation.
"Its rhubarb", she looked at her watch, "and ready to come out of the oven I suppose..."