Minnie in the Chevy

Perched on the back of the truck, Minnie could see for miles across the flat lands of the Mississippi delta. It was late afternoon and Zack was taking her out to dinner for jambalaya and blackened catfish and to hear a local zydeco band play on the other side of the parish. There would be dancing under the stars with colored lanterns strung among the live oaks. Minnie just bought the dress of her dreams -- a russet silk organza gown with embroidered gold dots -- she felt like an Indian princess. Underneath she wore a simple shell pink silk corset, the tightness of the steel wires making her feel acutely sensual. All seemed like it was going well. Her brother Little John (all 6 foot 5 inches of him) didn't give Zack a hard time for once, grudgingly nodding as they waved goodbye, the wooden screen door slamming on the way out. Zack was in a good mood, laughing and joking, holding her hand except when he had to shift gears. Then, 5 miles out of town, there was a clicking, a sputtering, a cloud of black smoke, an ominous shudder and then nothing. Thank heavens for the breeze blowing away the mosquitoes.