Three inches of dirt. That’s all it takes to cover anything up, three inches of dirt. That was Benton’s motto and it served him well those thirteen years he and Eva robbed banks together.
He had a thing about him that wasn’t quite right. The teachers in grammar school had a name for it, but hell if he could remember what it was. All he knew was that he couldn’t write so well. Always writing something backwards or using the wrong letters. He liked to draw though and he fancied himself quite good at it too.
Eva was a minx. Got anything she wanted, that Eva. And the first thing she wanted, from the minute she laid eyes on him, was Benton. She couldn’t resist him, she was drawn to him, and he didn’t have a prayer at ditching her, well...
So he had this chip on his shoulder from the day he learned he wasn’t all that bright. At least that’s what the teachers would tell him and his parents. Then his pa would take the switch to him, because that’s what he figured he needed. He certainly wasn’t going to help Benton with the arithmetic or learn him about Gulliver and his travels. That wasn’t the sort of pa he was.
At twelve, Benton stole the family Buick and left town. He had to tie a brick to his shoe and sit on two bags of feed just to reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel, but he reckoned he had learnt about all that switch and those teachers were gonna learn him.
Eva was sixteen when he met her. She was a waitress at the only diner in a town too small to mean anything, except to them two.
He’d been at it for three years when they met. Robbing and conniving for every nickel he could, and he was good at it too. And he knew he was good at it. A fortune teller once told him as much when the card of the bear track appeared. The animal that takes what he wants asks not for permission. So to hell with the teachers, teaching reading and writing and arithmetic, who needed that? They should spend more time learning about the kids, fostering their natural talents. If they had with Benton, they would have learned that he was a fine thief, the dandiest around.
And Eva wasn’t half bad herself. Her ma called her a klepto, whatever that meant. All she knew was she liked things and she took what she liked. It seemed right and natural, the proper thing to do. Eva didn’t see anything so wrong with it, and neither did Benton. And that’s why she loved him, because he just loved her.
They bedded and pilfered about until they were twenty-two, the pair of them. They knocked off liquor stores and grocery stores with guns or knives whenever they felt like it. But most of the time, Eva just liked taking things from the stores.
“Why go and trouble the folks runnin’ the shops and scarin’ them half to wit, Benton?”
“‘Cause we need the money Eva, we can’t go livin’ off the screws and hammers you swipe at every hardware store. We gotta eat, you know.”
“I take food too.”
“Not enough, princess. You know that.”
“I know, I just don’t like scarin everyone.”
They got married before anything sexual happened between them. It was Benton’s idea mainly. He was the sentimental kind, the type to draw her all sorts of pictures when he could steal a few moments away from her. She liked to stick close, didn’t like being alone.
So it was especially hard for her when he wanted to do a job without her.
“It’s a bank, princess. These fellas wanted me to come along. Not you.”
“But what will I do?”
“You gotta stay here and wait for me.”
And wait she did. Her mind spun wild with thoughts of Benton and his pals. They took him from her. Who were they to do that? She thought as she watched a Blue Jay outside their apartment window construct a nest, twig by twig.
She waited until the nest was full of eggs, just a few days, but a lifetime without Benton. When the bird had flown off to do whatever birds do, Eva climbed the tree, inched up it like a worm, and she took that nest and she dumped it out. The eggs cracked on impact. Then she took the nest inside and put it in the cupboard. If she couldn’t have Benton, that Jay couldn’t have her nest.
Benton came home that night. He dumped bags of money on the bed and they made love in it.
“Never leave me again.”
“I promise.”
They buried most of the loot in the backyard under three inches of dirt. “That’ll make it easier to find, you see.”
“Ok, my love.”
Together, they heisted. Benton showed her how, and she learned quickly. She didn’t care anymore about scaring people. In fact, she liked it. At one bank, she even took a small toy from a boy: a die cast knight in shining armor. “This is for you my love,” she told Benton. The boy cried, and she smiled.
Benton grew concerned. His goal was always simple - steal to live. But Eva was turning into a monster.
The night in the desert that she killed an eagle just to pluck a single feather from it and give it to Benton was their last night together.
“That’s the symbol of freedom, Eva. You can’t kill an eagle.”
Eva gripped the gun, “But you love America, so I thought this feather...”
“Eva, you just can’t.”
“You don’t love me anymore.” She held the gun to her head.
“No, Eva!” He tackled her, but it was too late.
Three inches of dirt was all he covered her with. Three inches, so he could always find her again.
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