The Bootlegger’s Legacy by Ted Clifton

hadn’t been able to work and they might hire her back—but for some reason that felt like begging, and she didn’t beg.
    Sally knew she was beautiful. What most people didn’t realize, although Sally knew it, was that she was also smart. In the illogic of the times, people simply thought that a good looking woman
couldn’t
be smart. Sally knew that she wanted something better for herself than just marrying some guy and becoming a household slave, cooking, cleaning, and putting up with the sexual advances of some ape, just to have a place to live. She thought that with her looks and brains she should be able to do anything she wanted. Although the world seemed ready to disagree.
    Sally got a waitressing job at another greasy spoon diner close to her apartment. Same job, same grabby boss, same foul-mouthed cook—and, it would appear, the same goddamn customers. It was more than she could deal with. She lasted two weeks at the new job, told her boss to go to hell, and walked out.
    She went home, fell onto her bed, and cried. Why was everything so hard? She knew she had options—men were always making lewd propositions to her—but her own moral code wouldn’t let her take them up on it. There were times when she didn’t understand why she said no.
    Hank had become religious during his senior year in high school, and religion seemed to give him a new power. Almost everything he said was based on some strange interpretation of the Bible. He constantly berated Sally about the evils of sin, and the biggest sin of all was sex. It seemed all Hank thought about was sex. In the last year or so, Hank has started to look at Sally in an unhealthy way. Sally knew Hank was having sex with the girl next door, mostly because you could hear them for some distance and it happened almost every day. Sally didn’t understand how that fit with Hank’s view of morality, but she really didn’t care as long as he left her alone.
    Lying on her bed, she made a decision: she was leaving. She worried about her sister, but by this point she felt a sense of desperation. She’d had a premonition that if she didn’t leave something bad would happen. She wrote a note to her sister.
Dear Sis,
    I hope you understand why I am doing this. Remember that I love you, but I have to leave. I cannot live in the same place with Hank. Something bad would happen. You should also leave as soon as you can.
    I’m going to Oklahoma City. Do not tell Hank. Once I get there I’ll let you know how to get a hold of me.
    Please be careful. I love you very much.
    Sally
    She put the note on her sister’s bed and began packing what little she had. It didn’t even fill her one small suitcase.
    Sally had a little bit of money. Not much, but probably enough to buy a bus ticket somewhere. The Greyhound bus station was only a few blocks from her downtown slum apartment. She walked.
    “How much for a ticket to Oklahoma City—one way?” She was both scared and excited. She had decided on Oklahoma City because it was the closest big city that wasn’t in Texas. It was an act of rebellion: she wanted out of Texas because her brother thought it was so great.
    The man in the ticket window gave her the amount. “Wow that’s cheap.” She paid and he gave her a ticket.
    Sally found the right bus number and got on board, giving the driver her ticket. Greyhound had buses leaving for OKC almost every hour—hers would leave in twenty minutes. She went to the back, still holding her small suitcase, and sat down. The bus filled up. A couple of men gave her glances, but she just stared out the window and tried to ignore them.
    Sally had never been anywhere. She’d been born in Dallas and had never left. She knew Oklahoma City was just up the road—she thought it was a couple hundred miles—but at least she was going
somewhere
. She was sorry about her sister, but she felt she had no choice—she simply couldn’t deal with Hank any longer. If she never saw him again, that would