A Week of Criminal Happiness: From a bank robbery to finance their honeymoon to auto theft, assault, and kidnapping, Mandy and Stuart Masamoli experience a lifetime of crime and happiness in one short, crazy, humorous week.

A Week of Criminal Happiness: Literary Fiction

Title: A Week of Criminal Happiness

Author: Michael Giorgio

Genre: Crime/Coming of Age

Book Heat Level: 2

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BLURB: A Week of Criminal Happiness

Once Mandy and her childhood sweetheart Stewart decide they’ve had enough of their dead-end lives in 1954 small-town Wisconsin, they elope, rob a bank to finance their future, and go off in search of their happily-ever-after. Their path takes them from town to town and from crime to crime, from grand theft auto and armed robbery to assault with a deadly weapon and bank fraud—and to the accidental kidnapping of Denny, a twelve-year old boy from a similar background, who they can’t return to his hometown. Together, the threesome meet up with people both sympathetic and hostile, find out how strange the world can be, and discover the true meaning family in order to create their own place in society.

EXCERPT: A Week of Criminal Happiness

She closed her eyes and let the rhythm of the car and the babble of the radio lull her into a contended near-sleep. She thought about the police back in Fountain Grove and decided Stuart was actually wrong. They didn’t suspect anything about Denny being the kid missing from Legion. Of course, Denny wasn’t that kid anymore. He was theirs, at least for now, and man and boy were her family and everything would be just fine from here on out. The three of them, and maybe some little Stueys and Mandys, would be a perfect set.

A sudden lurch nearly sent Mandy to the floor. “Sorry, Angel,” Stuart said. “Traffic stopped sudden. Roadblock.” He sounded nervous.

“Roadblock?” Just repeating the word tied her stomach in a knot and the thought of food flew from her mind. “Why? Do you think it’s for us?”

“Nah. Why would people in Illinois care about a couple of Wisconsiners?” As he spoke, Stuart jerked his thumb toward the backseat, out of Denny’s sight.

“What are we gonna do?” Mandy asked in a panicked whisper.

“Bluff,” Stuart said. “And if that don’t work—” Stuart brought his left hand up enough for Mandy to see his gun. “We bluff bigger.”

“Stuey, no. We can’t.”

“We can. And we will.” He put his hand back where Mandy couldn’t see it, a move which brought her very little comfort. “Hey, kid. Keep your hat on and pretend to be asleep.”

“Why?”

“Just shut your yap and do it.”

Mandy heard shuffling in the backseat and knew Denny was doing as told. Good boy. Now if they could just get out of this without the gun.

Stuart rolled to a stop as directed by a state patrolman. “Evening, young man,” the officer said with a yawn. “Where are you two headed tonight?”

“Downstate, we’re—”

“Going to visit my aunt.” Mandy held up her left hand. “We were recently married and she couldn’t make the wedding because she was in the hospital and my folks have been watching her son. She’s never even met my husband and, well, she’s my favorite aunt and all and it was cheaper and safer to drive little William back than putting him on a train alone.”

The patrolman also held up his hand. “I won’t hold you up for long when you’re on such an important mission. We’re just looking for a missing boy. Blond, around twelve. Any chance you’ve seen him?” He never even glanced into the back seat.

“Nope,” Stuart said. “Only kid we’ve seen is the one we’ve got.”

“Afraid not,” Mandy added. “But we really haven’t stopped except for gas and such. We’ll keep an eye out for him though.”

“Damn kid…uh, sorry, ma’am. Darn kid probably fell asleep by a stream or something and is back home with his folks by now anyway and has no clue he’s making me work a double shift.” He tipped his hat. “You folks have a good evening now.” He yawned again and waved them through.

Stuart rolled them away slow and steady, every inch the good young man who followed the rules of the road at all times. Once they were far enough away, he whooped. “That was so easy! Damn fool didn’t even look in the back. And kid, you did great. No snoring or nothing.”

Denny leaned forward, forcing Mandy to move her head to the right. “I’m not stupid. I know when to play possum. And…” He brought his right arm up to reveal he held Mandy’s cute little gun. “…I was ready if things went bad, just like you, Uncle Stuey.”

“Give me that!” Stuart said, making a grab for the weapon. He had to reach up and behind himself to get at Denny’s hand and smacked the gun rather than taking it, causing the thing to fire loud enough to rattle Mandy’s eardrums. Mandy saw rather than heard her side of the windshield shatter and glass rain down onto her and the front seat. She let out an involuntary scream and gripped Stuart tighter as he pulled to a stop on the side of the road.

“Wowee.” said Denny softly, punctuating it with a small whistle. “Wouldya look at that.”

“I am,” said Stuart. Mandy didn’t like the flatness of his tone. “Angel, look back and see if those cops back there heard that.”

“That was really cool!”

“Was it?” asked Stuart.

Mandy recognized the monotone question as Stuart’s father style, a question asked just before a punishment was doled out to Stuart or his brother. She hated seeing Stuart acting like Mr. Masamoli in any way.

“No one heard, Stuey. Nobody’s coming.”

Oblivious to Stuart’s anger, Denny said, “Hell—heck yeah, that was cool! I never fired no real gun before.” He reached over to the far end of the seat and picked up the little pistol.

“And you ain’t ever gonna again till you’re old enough,” Stuart said, snatching the gun from the boy’s hand.

Reality must have finally settled into Denny’s brain. He lowered his arm, sat back, and meekly said, “Yes, sir.”

“That’s better.” Stuart turned his attention to Mandy, who relaxed once her husband looked her way rather than glaring at Denny. “Are you okay, Angel?” he asked.

“I—I think so. More shook than anything. But no matter if the next town has an open restaurant or not, we better stop. We can’t go too far like this.” She waved her hand at the windshield.

“Why don’t you scoot out and sit in the back with Billy the Kid,” Stuart suggested. “You can’t be sitting in a pile of glass chunks like that.” He opened his door and slid out of her way.

Carefully, Mandy got out of the Oldsmobile and stopped herself just before she tried to brush the glass pieces from her clothes. Instead, she shook them off as best she could and gave herself a quick inspection for cuts, not that she’d be able to see them well in the growing darkness, then climbed into the backseat.

She gave Denny what she hoped was a kind, but stern motherly look. “As for you, young man, when we find a hotel, it’s bath and bed for you. No fooling around.”

“But it’s not even nine o’clock yet. And it’s summer. And it’s Saturday. And—”

“Enough,” Stuart said. “If you’re gonna stay with us, you’re gonna remember who’s in charge.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, ma’am.” The boy sounded resigned to his fate.

Mandy put her arm around his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean we don’t like you, Denny. We just need and want you to be a good boy.” She gave him a one-armed squeeze.

“Ow!” Denny exclaimed.

Mandy pulled away from him as if he were suddenly electrified. When she did, she saw why the boy cried out. A small piece of glass was embedded in the back of his neck. She reached for her pocketbook for a handkerchief and realized that not only did Denny find her gun in there, but he saw the large amount of cash she carried as well. She’d have to find a way to tell him to keep quiet about it. She managed to get the glass out of his flesh and sat him back into her handkerchief to stop the bleeding. He tried to protest, but with the wind rushing in where the windshield used to be, she couldn’t hear him. Probably better for him at the moment, she thought.

Website URL: www.michaelgiorgio.org

Blog URL: currently inactive, but it will be back. http://authormichaelgiorgio.blogspot.com/

Facebook page: Author Michael Giorgio

Twitter handle: currently inactive, but @MGiorgioWI

Triberr: NA

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