The Bootlegger’s Legacy by Ted Clifton Page B

she was kidding.
    “Sally, you are the most exciting person I have ever known.”
    “Well, thank you, Mr. Allen. I think you are pretty great yourself.” They laughed and went inside to be together.

Las Cruces, New Mexico / Oklahoma City, Oklahoma / Deep Deuce
    Their early departure was rewarded by gorgeous flying weather: a cool morning with no wind made for a turbulence-free flight, first into El Paso for a quick refuel. Taking the same route up to Lubbock, everything was calm and stress-free all of the way to Wiley Post in Oklahoma City.
    Sally was almost shy when Pat dropped her off at her apartment. She seemed happy but subdued, lost in her own thoughts—mostly, no doubt, they were about Pat and her. The trip had been wonderful, and it felt like their relationship was changing, becoming more serious.
    She was going in to work the next day, a Friday, and agreed to go out with Pat to meet his Texas business associate for dinner that night.
    Pat drove away from her apartment, also in a thoughtful mood. He already missed her, although he also felt an odd sense of relief to be alone and headed home. Pat was not a complicated guy, but lately he seemed to be having complicated thoughts. He wasn’t sure he liked it.
    Trying to imagine a life that included Sally was easy short-term, but impossible long-term. He knew she was the most appealing person he’d ever been around, but it just wouldn’t work. He was an old man, with a wife and child—what was he going to do, run off with Sally? Well, maybe he wanted to—it just didn’t make any sense. What was he going to do?
    Pat was home by late afternoon, but nobody was there. Mike would still be at some kind of after-school activity and Bugs was probably shopping. He went upstairs and decided to take a short nap.
    That evening he had an enjoyable dinner with his wife and son, both of whom seemed glad to see him. He was happy to see them, too, and gave them the gifts from Old Mesilla. Bugs seemed very surprised by the gifts and gave Pat a suspicious eye, but said nothing. Mike seemed only a little interested.
    The next day, Pat was occupied with various business tasks that required his personal attention. The first was a collection call to one of his older customers who hadn’t paid for his last delivery. Pat always hated this stuff. Everybody knew what was expected: you paid when the product was delivered. Pat wasn’t in the banking business, handing out credit. His old customer begged for some extra time because he was short on cash. Pat made it clear he didn’t care whether they were old friends or not—that wasn’t the way he did business. There would be no more deliveries until he paid, which of course would put him out of business. And Pat would sell the receivable to his business partners in Texas, whom this customer knew of, and thereafter
they
would handle collections. Suddenly his old friend found the cash. Their friendship was over, but business was business.
    He couldn’t get Sally off his mind. Pat was still confused by Sally and had no real answers. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait to see her. The afternoon dragged on, and then finally it was time. Pat picked Sally up at her apartment for their evening out, and as soon as he saw her he felt happy. She was ravishing. Sally was so striking—most everywhere she went she turned heads, both men’s and women’s. Pat often found himself just staring at her—she didn’t seem to mind.
    They were headed to the Deep Deuce area. This was the predominantly black part of downtown Oklahoma City. There were lots of clubs and live music in this part of town, and it was an area where Pat had a lot of customers. He always felt welcome and enjoyed the party atmosphere of people having a good time. Sally was very excited about going into this somewhat forbidden zone to meet the Texas Italian, John Giovanni.
    Pat had told her about some of the history of the neighborhood. That it had been a distinct section of town