1967 Impala

“My husband wrote me from jail, that he has a classic car hidden in Hastings.” 

“Oh really? What type of classic car, Susan?” Suzanne asked. 

“He did not say but knowing him it’s an expensive one,” I replied. 

“Why would it be expensive? Jerry doesn’t have too much money, right?” she asked. 

“Ha! He has no fucking money at all! Do you know why Jer is in jail?” A shake of her head, no. “He stole cars, he was clever about it at first, but then he got stupid and caught. Guess he kept one for himself, the bastard, and it hasn’t been found.” Hopefully. 

Suzanne gasped. Oh boy here it comes. 

“Your husband stole cars?” she just about yelled. The look on her face is funny to me, a mix of abject horror and intrigue, like she doesn’t do illegal things on a daily basis. 

“Keep your voice down! We’re at a fucking coffee shop, seriously, it’s like you want to draw attention to us.” I scolded. 

“Sorry, right, whoopsie daisy. I thought he was in jail for something smaller, less exciting,” she apologized. 

“No, he stole hundreds of cars according to the police. Honestly? I doubt that he stole that many. The man was always losing things. If I didn’t remind him about his glasses, he’d have lost his head right along with them!” If I thought her face was funny before, now her face was hilarious; switching from horrified worry to just straight horror. Guess she thought he would have literally lost his head. Idiot woman, why did I agree to meet up with her? I got out of the life when Jer was arrested. Thankfully the police never discovered any of my jobs, most of them were just easy pickpocket jobs, but a few were scams and I had gotten quite a bit out of those scams. At least until Jerry got in trouble with a mob boss and owed him so much money, I had to do twice as many jobs to get the money to save the two of us, from that awful man. 

To top it all off this was just last year, he hasn’t been in jail for but a few months. I wonder if I should even tell Jerry - about what he left behind, the bastard. He shouldn’t have pissed off that mob boss; we could have left this stupid ass town. We could have gone somewhere great and beautiful with the money we got. We could have raised the child I am carrying together, free. No matter how much I hate him right now, I can’t stop loving him. 

“Suzanne, how would you feel about getting a new place to live?” A plan was forming in my mind. 

“Oh sure! Where are you thinking?” She is so oblivious. 

“My place. I am leaving, I can’t stay here any longer, not with his shadow over my head.” 

“What about the police telling you not to leave? Won’t they stop you?” she asked me, such an idiot. 

“That’s why you would live there, you would act as someone living there, I’ll give you access to the bills, but they will stay under my name to not tip them off,” I took a sip of my tea to get the rest of the plan together in my mind. “You live there, they won’t suspect that I am going to get the car, and have it transported to a different country and that I am leaving this country, you can change the bills to your name after a year.” 

She looks confused now, which makes sense because she is a fucking idiot. 

“Just pay the bills and everything will be fine, let’s go.” 

Getting her moved into my place would take time, but she won’t have to pay rent and I will be free. 

A few weeks flew by, getting Suzanne settled into my house went by; it helped that I was also searching for properties, or anything in my husband’s name. Maybe he was smart, and put it under my name? I just don’t know. Perhaps I will figure it out when I get to Hastings. 

“Goodbye, Suzanne, I hope you like the place. If you get mail from my husband just leave it on the table by the door, I’ll send for it once I am settled wherever I am going.” I bid farewell to my friend, and got in my car, thankful that my new life will start now. 

Driving to Hastings took an unknown number of boring hours; with nothing but corn fields and flat land to help me pass the time. Once I arrived at my hotel, I crashed, driving for a whole day takes a lot out of a person. 

When I woke up, I realized that the mattress was so uncomfortable, stiff and unforgiving on any back. Maybe the shower will help my back loosen up and I might get the stink of yesterday off me. Walking into the small bathroom, I see an even smaller shower, ugh, this is what I get for going with a cheap place that I could pay with cash for. 

After my shower I head out to my car, realizing just how long of a day this is going to be; I wonder where I should start. Figuring the best start would be a local coffee shop, I look for the nearest one. 

“Welcome to the Blue Moon Café! What can we do for you today?” The lady behind the counter asked. 

“Can I get a black tea? Oh, and one of those scones, they look amazing.” 

“Ok, that will be 10 dollars!” 

Handing over the money, I also grabbed a picture of my husband. “Can I ask you a question? I was wondering if you had seen this man around here at any point, like not recently, but within this past year?” I showed the picture. 

“Hm, I think so, about six months ago he showed up and bought Old Man Elmer’s farmhouse. He had died about a year before and his grandkids were looking to sell it. Guy paid a pretty penny for that!” 

“Could you tell me how to get there? He’s a friend and asked me to get something from his place here but when he texted me the address my phone lost the address. How crazy is that?” 

“Pretty crazy!” She gave me directions to the house, I took my tea and scone, I thanked her and left. Time to get me my stolen car!  

Driving there takes almost an hour, especially when cows start crossing the road outside the city. I was stuck for a good twenty minutes watching cows slowly cross the fucking road. Then the dirt road section, ugh, do not get me started on that.  

Driving up the front drive I notice a barn near the back of the property. I grab my purse, as it holds everything, I might need to break in. Mainly my lockpick set. As I walk over to the barn, I have to work really hard not to stumble over my own fucking feet. Stupid uneven ground. My gut churns and I rush over to the stairs leading up to the house. Bending over holding onto the railing, I empty my stomach violently, until I am dry heaving.  

“Ugh. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that scone. Or maybe I should have been smart about it and gotten snacks. You idiot, morning sickness doesn’t just happen in the morning,” I scold myself. 

Luckily, I didn’t get any vomit on myself, so I wiped my mouth and finished my trek to the barn. Looking at the padlock on the door, I quickly figured out that this was a basic lock that only required my hooked pick and tension wrench. Working swiftly, I get all the pins above the shear line and turned the padlock to get it off the door. Opening the door, I see the car and promptly start swearing. 

“You motherfucking asshole. You cock guzzling fucking nerd. You Supernatural-loving super geek. I hate you so much right now. Of all the cars you stole that you could have saved it was this fucking stupid ass car! You could have saved an AC Cobra or some shit like that, but no! You had to have Dean motherfucking Winchester’s car!” I shout at the sky hoping it would reach Jerry in jail. I am so pissed at him now; I was looking forward to having a nice ass classic car and what does he leave me? A 1967 Chevrolet Impala. You complete and utter asshole. 

Rolling my eyes and shaking my head I walk into the barn and check to see if the keys are in it or if I will have to search for them. Opening the car’s door, I check the visor for the keys and sure enough, they fall into my waiting palm. 

“Oh, you loveable idiot,” I mutter. I climb in and start the car up, driving it up next to my old car. I start transferring my things to the trunk and then I drive my old car into the barn, leaving the keys in the visor. I grab my license plates off my car and put them on the Impala.  

“Alright old girl let’s head out. Away from this boring state. Away from my old life, somewhere, where I will fit right in. Momma’s home country, Cuba.”