That’s what everyone saw. My brother Buddy and I saw something completely different. We saw a version of Bonnie and Clyde in our parents that they shared with no one but us. We did not see the weekly activities they enjoyed, but we did enjoy the benefits of the clandestine ventures.
We both wondered why Clyde did not have a regular 9-to-5 job like the rest of the fathers in the neighborhood and Bonnie did nothing at home but polish her nails and pin up her hair. She did manage to feed us McDonald’s and Wendy’s hamburgers every day.
Each week, there was a ritual when our mother and father would dress down from the stylish clothes, mostly tweeds and conservative shades of navy, grey and black and amaze us with the ski masks and hoodies and went to work. And work it was. Clyde was always drawing pictures of stores and sometimes banks. He was quite an artist. Buddy and I thought he must be an architect, designing such wonderful structures. Soon after one of their adventures, the house would be full of new clothes, toys, books and a vacation for the family. We were so lucky to have these great parents who gave us everything. One thing they did do was to make sure our grades in school were always top of the class. It was so important for our future. As young adults, our education was the best, the best private schools and the best law schools in the country.
Buddy and I did well, and we see our parents at least once a month. We visit them in prison, and for some reason they are not happy. We tried our best as their attorneys, but we still lost the case.
Please note this is a story written for my creative writing class.
Linda Alessi contributes a weekly column to The Democrat on life’s later decades.