Doing Time in Texas Book 1 Always Have A Plan

Earlier that night, Bill Taylor leaned back against a worn leather sofa and tapped a new pack of Camels against the heel of his left hand.  “These ready-rolled cigarettes sure are nice.  Ramsey girl, you sure are nice, too,” he said, then laughed out loud.  “Nothing like the threadbare-calico-queen I’m married to.  Always telling me, Bill, why don’t you try your hand at this or that?  Bill, why not ask Raymond Hargis for a try at his line of work.  You know, Bill, I really bet you would be good at working in a retail store.  If she had a clue of how I feel about mister high-and-mighty Hargis, she would keep her mouth shut.  I like things just the way they are.  I can go and come as I please.  Being tied down to a job is just as confining as a jail cell.  There are easier ways to make money.  I have friends in Florida who know where the big money is,” Bill stated.

At the other end of the sofa, Ramsey Phillips considered the man she had shared the evening with.  He had been a mighty good-looking and persuasive man until now.  For a minute, she felt a cold sensation on the back of her neck, and she shivered.

“What’s the matter, Ram?  You shook like someone stepped on your grave!” Bill said.

“I just had a thought,” she said.  “The kind that makes you consider where you will spend eternity after all this foolishness is over.  You never told me you were married,” Ramsey said.

“Well now, Girl, I guess you should have asked!  I got married in high school, and it’s been downhill ever since.  As for me, I never have cared for the holier-than-thou types.  I don’t care for their moralistic thinking.  I do whatever I want to, and you should do the same.  First thing you know, you will be going to church and struggling to feed a bunch of hungry kids.  My old man is a farmer.  He worked himself and a couple of good mules to death trying to keep a bunch of skinny kids fed.  Now that’s no life for me.  I don’t intend to die behind a plow.  As a matter of fact, I think I will head east. Maybe the Tallahassee textile mill will be starting up.  I was a pretty good night watchman for Burlington.  Maybe they will hire me back.  I had my own game going and dressed my friends pretty good while I worked there.” Bill Taylor upended a shot glass; his voice slurred.

Suddenly Ramsey saw a chance to end this relationship.  “If you’re serious, there is an eastbound train coming through here at midnight.  You might want to hurry; it’s eleven thirty now.  The midnight express doesn’t stop in Huntsville unless it’s flagged at the train depot, but it will slow down coming through town.  I will take you to a point by the tracks where you can get on without breaking your neck.  When I was small, my brother and sister use to get on from there and ride the train back down in the valley.  I was riding boxcars when I was nine,” she said.

The courtyard lights bathed the room in an eerie light that framed her face through the sheer curtains.  Bill watched her facial expression bathed in the red and blue of the neon lights outside.

“Girl, you better snap out of what’s bothering you!” Bill Taylor snapped.  “That look of yours scares me!  Do like me, blame our sins on the liquor!”

Shaking her head as if recovering from a trance, she said, “I’m alright.  Come on!  I will take you down to the railyard.” A few minutes later, south of town, a lonely whistle blew, signaling the midnight freight was moving into town.  “Here comes your ride!  You better get ready to jump aboard!” Ramsey said hurriedly.