Bye Bye Blackbird
Hello.
Have you ever heard of those women who could bring a man to their knees with one glance? Cleopatra. But of course she had her Antony. But who’s to say she didn’t fool around with the servant boy every now and again. And then there's Helen of Troy. They say a war was started over her. Let’s just say that these women ain’t got nothing on me because more often than not, when a man sees me, it’s the last thing he ever lays eyeson.
Not that I hear them complaining.
Not that they get the chance.
My name is FrankieJane De Luca. I rob banks. My daddy gave my a boys name because if "I was going to make it in this world, I’d have to be tougher than a boy." Then when Mamma died when I was 6 he would beat me senseless because that was the only parenting he knew. He got locked up when he tried rob a bank in Nevada when I was 15. I was sent to live with my uncle, Walter Dietrich in New York. I call him Daddy Dietrich because he’s more of a father to me than that screw up ever will be. He taught me how to shoot a gun and we found out real quick I was pretty damn good at it. By 20 I had been in on 6 jobs with him. By 24 I was considered public enemy number 10. I dressed as a man a dropped my voice down low and everyone called me Frankie Dietrich. Then if the feds ever came looking at my place where we would hide everything they wouldn’t suspect a thing. Their out looking for Frankie Dietrich. Not sweet littleJane De Luca. The girl with Tommy guns and mens suits in her closet and $50,000 under her mattress.
One night my phone rang. "Hello?"
"Frankie.." My cue to lower my voice. We had a good idea the feds were tapping wires.
"Yeah. What?"
"Meet me at the bar on the corner of 6th and Fremont." It was Daddy Dietrich, and something was wrong.
"Alright. I’ll be right there." We hung up and I hurried into one of my suits and tucked my hair up under my hat. I put a .45 in a holster under my arm and grabbed a Thompson that would be hidden under my coat and got in a taxi.
"What’s wrong?" I asked as I sat down next to him ordering a whiskey.
"How’d you know?" He asked.
"Daddy, I may dress like a man, but I’m still a woman. And we’ve got instincts. They’re coming after you aren’t they?"
"Yeah. They are. But they aren’t gonna get you. Take my money, it’s in that brief case there, and go to Chicago. There are some folks their who will help you find a place to stay. You’ll be safer in Chicago."
"They aren’t going to catch you Daddy. So I ain’t taking your money."
"Yes. Well then you keep it for me till I can meet up with you in Chicago. There’s a number in there for you to call when you get there.."
"But-" He cut me off with a hard look. "Alright. I’ll hold it for you, but you better get there quick. I hear Chicago has some nice shopping to be done and I can’t promise your money will be there when you are." He gave me a smile.
"I love ya baby girl."
"I love you too Daddy."
"Good now scram before they get here and get you too." He pushed me off the stool and towards the door. I grabbed the brief case and walked out. I hailed a cab and as soon as we were pulling away from the curb 6 men in trench coats ran into the bar. ‘Wow!’ I thought to myself, ‘he wasn’t kidding.’
Back at my apartment I began to pack immediately so I could be on the earliest train to Chicago. It would be nice, I told myself, a change of scenery. New York is getting stuffy.
My name is Frankie Jane De Luca. This is my story. The story of how I became public enemy number 2. The story of how I fell in love with public enemy number one. The story of how I became a great big deal.
Not that I hear them complaining.
Not that they get the chance.
My name is FrankieJane De Luca. I rob banks. My daddy gave my a boys name because if "I was going to make it in this world, I’d have to be tougher than a boy." Then when Mamma died when I was 6 he would beat me senseless because that was the only parenting he knew. He got locked up when he tried rob a bank in Nevada when I was 15. I was sent to live with my uncle, Walter Dietrich in New York. I call him Daddy Dietrich because he’s more of a father to me than that screw up ever will be. He taught me how to shoot a gun and we found out real quick I was pretty damn good at it. By 20 I had been in on 6 jobs with him. By 24 I was considered public enemy number 10. I dressed as a man a dropped my voice down low and everyone called me Frankie Dietrich. Then if the feds ever came looking at my place where we would hide everything they wouldn’t suspect a thing. Their out looking for Frankie Dietrich. Not sweet littleJane De Luca. The girl with Tommy guns and mens suits in her closet and $50,000 under her mattress.
One night my phone rang. "Hello?"
"Frankie.." My cue to lower my voice. We had a good idea the feds were tapping wires.
"Yeah. What?"
"Meet me at the bar on the corner of 6th and Fremont." It was Daddy Dietrich, and something was wrong.
"Alright. I’ll be right there." We hung up and I hurried into one of my suits and tucked my hair up under my hat. I put a .45 in a holster under my arm and grabbed a Thompson that would be hidden under my coat and got in a taxi.
"What’s wrong?" I asked as I sat down next to him ordering a whiskey.
"How’d you know?" He asked.
"Daddy, I may dress like a man, but I’m still a woman. And we’ve got instincts. They’re coming after you aren’t they?"
"Yeah. They are. But they aren’t gonna get you. Take my money, it’s in that brief case there, and go to Chicago. There are some folks their who will help you find a place to stay. You’ll be safer in Chicago."
"They aren’t going to catch you Daddy. So I ain’t taking your money."
"Yes. Well then you keep it for me till I can meet up with you in Chicago. There’s a number in there for you to call when you get there.."
"But-" He cut me off with a hard look. "Alright. I’ll hold it for you, but you better get there quick. I hear Chicago has some nice shopping to be done and I can’t promise your money will be there when you are." He gave me a smile.
"I love ya baby girl."
"I love you too Daddy."
"Good now scram before they get here and get you too." He pushed me off the stool and towards the door. I grabbed the brief case and walked out. I hailed a cab and as soon as we were pulling away from the curb 6 men in trench coats ran into the bar. ‘Wow!’ I thought to myself, ‘he wasn’t kidding.’
Back at my apartment I began to pack immediately so I could be on the earliest train to Chicago. It would be nice, I told myself, a change of scenery. New York is getting stuffy.
My name is Frankie Jane De Luca. This is my story. The story of how I became public enemy number 2. The story of how I fell in love with public enemy number one. The story of how I became a great big deal.