Mavis got itchy if she stayed in one place too long. We’d been staying with Old Man Cooter for almost a month and Mavis was acting like she had hives. Though that also could have been an allergy to the soap that had heretofore been a distant memory to each of us.
Old Man Cooter required us to bath regularly. And when me and Stank had first done it the water was as black as ashes at dusk. But after three or four more dunks and a change of clothes we were both looking prettier than a Posey on Sunday in the summer. I thought about calling Stank by his real name, but who knew if this would last, plus “Pete” just sounded wrong when I tried it out.
Anyways Mavis was getting itchier’n a mosquito bite in July and one night she called Stank and me to her room and laid out her plan. “Old Man Cooter’s been good to us, but we can’t loaf on him forever. We needs a paying job that’ll get us back to Earth and give him something for retirement.”
“Ain’t he already retired?” Stank asked.
I elbowed him for interrupting.
“Well we can’t just let him spend it all on us can we?” Mavis continued, “We—”
“No?” I asked, thinking the question weren’t rhetorn-ical.
“That’s right, Clem. He’s taken care a us, now we needs to take care a him.”
“Whadda ya propose we do now?” Stank asked.
“What in tarnation’s that?” Stank asked.
I kicked him in the shin for such a tone with Mavis.
“We buy some land cheap and turn around and sell it for a profit.” She said.
“We don’t have any money to buy it with,” Stank said. This time I knew he were right so I didn’t kick him er nothin’.
“Can’t we just rob a bank?” I asked.
“I’m glad you asked, Clem, and you too, Pete,” when she said my name it fell flat but when she said Stank’s there was music in her mouth and a twinkle in her eye. “We’re gonna rob the Bank Of 49.”