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[personal profile] ninanevermore
Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about the story Wren told me about the time my cousin Leslie's second husband tried to have her killed. As far as murder-for-hire stories go, it's pretty funny. The lesson I took from it is that the first rule of hiring outlaw bikers to carry out a hit, is to make sure that they don't find the intended victim more likable than they find you. If they do, things may not turn out the way you hoped.

"Did Leslie ever tell you about the time her second husband, Floyd, tried to have her killed?" Wren asked me the other week.

I said that I couldn't recall that she had, so he filled me in about it. It happened in 1993 during the months after her son's aneurysm, while he was still hospitalized. In addition to driving large trucks, Wren is also an artisan who crafts motorcycle figurines out of spun glass. Biker rallies are the natural marketplace for this sort of thing, so Leslie and Wren attended these events around the state of Texas to hawk his delicate scuptures of these loud, powerful motercycles.

"Well, we ran into Floyd at this rally, and he started talking crap to Leslie, telling her that he had hired the Bandidos to take her out," Wren told me. "Leslie blew him off, but I got kind of worried. I walked up to this guy wearing Bandido colors and asked him about it, and he said he hadn't heard anything but he'd look into it for me.

"Anyway, a few hours go by, and right about when the sun starts to go down we look up and we're surrounded by Bandidos. I mean, there must have been about 200 of them there. They weren't messing with us, though. They'd asked around and found out about Cameron and how we were trying to take care of him, and they thought we were all right.

"I'm not saying these are nice people or anything, because they're not. But they've got their own code of ethics and their own ideas about family values, and they had a lot more respect for Leslie and me than they had for Floyd. Instead of killing us, they decided to look out for us, instead. So that's what they were all there for. We ended up partying with them until about 4 o'clock that morning. I'm not going to lie; we had a great time that night.

"After we called it a night and went home, some of them went to Floyd's house and cleaned him out. I hear they took everything except his dirty underwear. They even took the Playboy centerfolds he had hanging on his walls. I don't know what they did with it all, but when he got home, his place was empty. He didn't bother us after that, either. We never heard one word from him again."

"The Bandidos watched our backs for the rest of the rally, too. A few nights later, Leslie and I were in a bar that had a lot of them in it, and this guy started making comments about her. She was wearing these tights, and they looked pretty good on her. This guy comes up to me and says, 'You ought to have her pose for you and sculpt her ass out of glass.'

"Now, I've never been any good at comebacks, not like some people are. I just looked at him and said, 'If I'm gonna sculpt her ass, I don't need to have her pose; I've got it memorized.' Leslie, she just laughed.

"Then I looked around and noticed the bar was completely quiet. You know how sometimes in a movie they'll have that scene where everyone in the bar stops talking, and they all start looking at what's about to happen, and the bartender reaches under the counter and pulls out his gun? It was just like that. I'm not kidding.

"A couple of these bikers take this guy aside and talk to him real quite, and I can see him nodding to them, like he agrees with everything they're saying. A few minutes later he comes back up to me and says he's sorry, then empties out his wallet and hands me $75 to make up for any trouble he might have caused us. It was the damnedest thing.

"Leslie had a way with people, you know? When she liked you, it was hard not to like her back. She had a way of making people want to protect her. Even the people who didn't like her, at least respected her. She was one of a kind."

I agreed that she was. We both sighed, and I found myself thinking about how amazing my cousin was, that she could transform a group of notorious outlaws turned into her guardian angels. I suppose that a woman with a beautiful smile, a sharp wit, a sad story, and an ass worthy of being sculpted in glass can soften the hearts of even the most dangerous men.


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