The Bonnie And Clyde Killers

I cracked my eyes open to see the time 11:30 the clock read. I had only gone to bed an hour before, who could be calling this late I thought, irritably. I picked up my phone and looked at the number, it was the nursing home my mom lived at. It was my mother and me for as long as I could remember If my father had ever been in the picture I had no recollection. I better answer this I thought to myself.

"Hello, this is Sophia."

"Hi Sophia, this is Chris at Peaceful Livings. I wanted to call and make you aware that your mother is rapidly declining and she has requested to see you."

"I'll be over in half an hour" I replied.

Dread and sadness filled my heart as I dressed to go spend the last moments I knew my mother had left.

The thirty-minute drive to the nursing home was one of the longest I've ever driven. I thought back to my life growing up, my mother was a small woman, and as she aged it felt as if she got smaller, making me feel tall even though I was only 5'5. She had beautiful long black hair that slowly turned white with age, but the length she maintained, she had a darker complexion than I did making me think that I probably resembled my father.

She had a kind soul and was soft-spoken. I only heard her yell twice, once when I was five, and wandered off the five acres we lived on. I don't remember it much but I was missing for a few hours before the police found me in the neighbor's barn visiting their ponies, my mom had yelled at me and then started crying eventually explaining that fear can turn to anger. The second time I was going through an unruly stage of my teen years and decided to tell her how much I hated living with her, I didn't of course, I just didn't always agree with her rules, and in my opinion, I had the oddest rules growing up, to which she would reply someday you will understand. I always thought she meant when I had kids.

Deep in thought, I pulled into the parking lot wiping the tears away, taking a deep breath. I put my brave face on and walked to the entrance, as I made my way to the nurse's station a tall blonde man with a name tag that said Chris greeted me.

"You must be Miss Lancaster."

"You must be my late-night caller?" I replied jokingly, trying to keep from crying.

"I do apologize," Chris said remorsefully, "your moms not doing well she's waiting for you in her room."

"Thank you," I said, in a more serious tone.

I headed down the hall to my mother's room, 100, 101, 102 I counted the door numbers as I went knowing this would be my last walk down this hallway. Finally, I reached room 110. I stood at the door for a minute finding my courage to go in. I didn't want my mother upset seeing that I was upset. I took a deep breath, twisted the doorknob, and walked in.

My mother was lying in bed listening to Mozart; it would have been very peaceful if not for the machines keeping her alive. My mother was sixty-nine and had lived a healthy life up until three years ago when she had been diagnosed with bowel cancer. She had hung on longer than expected but the disease was finally ready to take its victim.

"Don't act so brave Sophia" my mother said, "crying is healthy."

"I have too for you" I replied.

"That's my job, not yours Sophia."

"And before all the tears start I have something very important to tell you."

I figured she meant her will, I knew my mother was not wealthy, she drove an older Cadillac and worked at our local grocery store as a florist.

When I turned twenty-five and moved out she started depositing two thousand a month into my account. Didn't know where she got this extra money and I didn't ask. I told her I didn't need it as I had a good job at a law firm but all she said was it yours and will keep giving it to you that is the last time I spoke about it.

"Is this about your will because that can wait?"

"Some but it's more about you".

My heart started beating rapidly, "what do you mean?"

"I'm not one to beat around the bush, I'm not your biological mother, your real name is Tiffany Gunn, not Sophia Lancaster. My real name is Maria Rodriguez, not Elaine Lancaster."

"I used to live next door to your parents when you were an infant, I used to babysit you when they asked, which was frequently." "Your real parents are Brad and Carmody Gunn and they were serial killers."

My mother paused and watched my reaction, but there wasn't one, I don't know if it's because I was processing what she said, or the fact that everything was starting to make sense. After a minute she continued.

"1965, Five years before you were born in the town of Little Elm, Texas, a string of murders started. At first, no one thought the murders were connected, just random crimes, but after about the fourth murder, the local police started connecting the dots. Now it was a fairly small town in Texas and we didn't see a lot of crimes like that. The community started locking their doors and windows at night. The killers always attacked at night in the person's home, they seemed to come in through open windows. Once they were inside they would tie, gag, and assault their victims and when they were done, strangle them with a pair of their underwear. The local news station dubbed them The Bonnie And Clyde Killers the reason being, one victim survived and told local police it was a man and woman committing these crimes."

My mother paused again catching her breath. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and all I could do was sit quietly and listen. I could tell she was struggling to tell me, partly because of her declining health, partly because she didn't want to hurt me. I grabbed her hand and squeezed letting her know I was ok and she could continue.

"As I said your parents were my neighbors, I knew them before you were born, not well, but they were always very nice to me." "They were your typical husband and wife. Brad worked at a bank and Carmody stayed at home, cooked dinner, cleaned, and eventually had you. You were the littlest, pinkest, and most adorable baby I had ever laid eyes on. You were always happy, smiling, giggling, and cooing at me. I think they could tell how smitten I was with you and start asking if I could watch you. It started one night a week and then two or three nights. I figured they were going out to eat or to a club. I never could have dreamed they were stalking and picking their next victim. Everything changed in the fall of 1970. You were only seven months old at the time, It started like any other evening. They asked me to watch you and dropped you off around six, as they were driving away I noticed a small leather-bound black book fall out of Mr. Gunn's coat."

I felt a chill run down my spine. I couldn't wrap my head around what my mother was telling me. This sweet, kind woman I had known all my life was not my mother? My real parents serial killers? I was screaming inside my head but silently listened as my mother continued.

"I couldn't get his attention before they drove off, so I went and picked it up. I probably would have never opened it if not for a cutout of an article written about the Bonnie And Clyde Killers. Curiously I opened the page where the article fell from. At first, it didn't make a lot of sense, different women's names, and ages, but no phone numbers, I found it odd but not alarming, until a name I recognized jumped out. Mary Martinez was the most recent victim in the string of killings, she was only 15 and her mother attended my church. I started shaking, I then read back through the other names, fifteen total. Jessica, Lisa, Patricia, Donna, Linda, the list went on. I recognized all of the names as the victims of The Bonnie And Clyde Killers. I gathered you up, ran to the car, and drove across town to my friend's house. I immediately called the police, as we were waiting for them I vowed to never let you out of my sight, I promised you I would protect you the rest of my life."

My mother paused again, catching her breath. This time I was in tears.

"Do you want me to continue?" she asked.

"Yes," I could barely reply.

"The authorities finally arrived and I gave them the little black book, they told me that if this led to their arrests I would be given with the reward money, twenty thousand dollars. All I cared about was making sure you were safe. They asked if I would testify against your parents. I agreed under one condition, that I would be given custody over you and go into police protection, moving to a different city with different names."

"You see if it hadn't been for you, who knows how many more victims there might have been. That is why I have always said the money is yours."

The last thing my mother ever said to me was, "don't let the knowledge of what kind of people your parents were determine who you are, only you get to determine what kind of a person you will be."