Hillbilly Hustle

By Gil Miller and Gordon Bonnet

When Lyle Villines learns his daughter has leukemia, he searches for a way to pay the huge medical bills that come with the condition. In desperation, he takes a well-paying under-the-table job driving a delivery van. He doesn't know what the cargo is, but the pay is enough to make him ignore that for the sake of his child.

Lyle questions

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gil Miller
• Release date: Jun 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798987767658

Gil Miller

Gil had a normal upbringing, which means his parents aren't to blame for him going into crime (fiction). Instead, he blames a steady diet of movies, shows, and books, from Miami Vice and Scarface in the '80s to Breaking Bad and Justified in the '00s. To cap it all off, he discovered authors such as Michael Connelly, Robert Crais, Don Winslow, and the late, great Elmore Leonard. Gil is a member of the Northwest Arkansas Writers Workshop, whose members sometimes wonder where he gets his inspiration. He makes his home outside Fayetteville, where he is at work on the next of his Rural Empires novels.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I DIDN’T START out to be a criminal. I just sorta fell into it. And I ain’t sayin that to make excuses, just explainin from the beginning how it was.

I’ve done some things I didn’t want to do. I had reasons, and I ain’t sure they were good ones. Probably never will be. But sometimes you do what you gotta do and worry about the consequences later.

That’s what I did, and it made me a lot of enemies, so I’m putting this story on record so if anything happens to me, folks will know why.

I lived more than forty years without getting into any more trouble than a speeding ticket before things went south.

And this is how it happened.

LIKE IT ALWAYS did when I got home from work, the house still felt lonely, even though me and Patty had been split up for more than a year. I kept expecting Cody or Kendra to pop around a corner or hear them get in an argument like kids do.

Well, at least I had some peace and quiet. Enough it was easy to hear the thunder rumbling off in the west. Clouds had piled up high there all afternoon, so we was likely in for a toad strangler.

I was starin into the fridge, trying to decide between leftover chicken and chili mac when the phone rang. I almost let it go to the answering machine, but figgered when you live alone like I do, you answer the calls you get.

So I headed for the living room.

When I got close, the message light was blinking, and that’s when a little bit of worry wormed its way in. Patty was a school teacher, and the machine had been for her. I couldn’t remember that last time anyone had left me a message, so having that and somebody calling put my guard up right off.

I had a pretty serious frown when I answered.

Lyle? Lyle are you there? It was Patty, and she didn’t sound good at all. Her voice sounded wavery, like she’d been crying.

Yeah, it’s me. What’s wrong?

It’s Kendra.

I froze.

If you’re a parent, you know what I felt like. Hadn’t even heard the news yet, and a feeling like ice water went all over me, and all kinds of things raced through my head.

What…what about her? I tried to keep my voice calm, but I don’t think it worked too well.

She has leukemia.

Well, that was one thing I hadn’t thought of. The way Patty sounded, I was expecting there’d been in a car wreck, or Kendy had been run over, something like that.

Leukemia? It was like some dirty word, one of those kind the old folks would whisper. I had an aunt once who was that way. She’d hear somebody had cancer, and she’d say, Did you hear Maude has the cancer? with that last part in a whisper you could still hear across the room.

They’re calling it acute lymphoblastic. Patty was trying to keep calm. I could tell by the sound of her voice. Live with somebody long enough and you learn to read them in all kinds of ways. But it wasn’t working for her any better than it was for me.

Acute lymphoblastic didn’t mean nothing much to me. But leukemia sure as hell did, and that was all I needed to know.

Where are you?

Washington Regional.

I’m on my way.

THE STORM BROKE loose while I was driving, the rain coming down in buckets. Daylight went away, for the most part, turning tail lights into red blurs. I had my wipers on hi trying to keep up and I still hunched forward to look through the windshield. Water ran against the curbs and pooled out in the streets in places. It made driving a bitch.

Like most times, everybody forgot how to drive. They acted like they’d never seen rain before. I had to bite my tongue to keep from yelling at folks that couldn’t hear me. By the time I made it to the hospital I was ready to chew on nails and spit out tacks.

And then, of course, I had to park on the backside of nowhere, so I was soaked when I got to the building.

Seemed like it took forever to find Patty. I swear they build hospitals so it’s hard to get around in em without gettin lost. Maybe it’s so you can’t get out till you pay the bill. I got water all over their floors though.

When I finally found Patty, she looked horrible. I don’t mean that in a bad way, just that she looked like a mom who’s found out her daughter has leukemia. Her eyes were red and she leaned into my boy Cody like she’d fall over if she didn’t. When I walked in, she glanced up at me and for a second I’d swear it looked like she blamed it all on me.

But then she tried on a smile and got up. I held out my arms and she walked into them. Her breath hitched a couple times and was hot on my chest. When she finally said something, it was so quiet it was hard to hear.

They say they can cure it. But, Lyle, it’s leukemia. How can they say that about leukemia?

What was I supposed to say to that? I wasn’t no doctor. Only thing I knowed about leukemia was that folks that got it died. Times like that, you wish you could say something that would make everything all right.

But I’d been knocked for as big a loop over it as Patty. I sure as hell didn’t have any answers.

I don’t know. It was all I could think of to say.

She sighed real deep.

I looked past her. Cody was sittin all by himself, looking lost. Him and Kendy were close, and it was easy to see this was hittin him hard. He’d been strong for Patty, but now that I was there he was breaking down a little.

Hey, Cody, how you doin?

He stared at me, and I hoped I’d never have to see my boy looking like that again. I’d never really knowed what folks meant when they said somebody’s eyes looked haunted, but Cody’s did.

Patty must have felt me stiffen or something, cause she let go of me.

I sat down beside Cody and put my arm around him. We didn’t need to say nothing. We just sat there.

Maybe twenty minutes went by before a doctor came out. He saw me there with Patty and Cody and I guess he figgered I belonged.

Are you Mister Villines?

I nodded.

He tried on a tired smile, but it didn’t stay long. That made me go cold all over again. He grabbed an extra chair from the waiting area and parked it in front of us.

I’m Doctor Fitzgerald, and I won’t lie to you, your girl is sick. She has acute lymphoblastic leukemia. I’ve already told Miz Villines that, but I thought I should repeat it. He sighed real deep and ran his hands through his dark hair. It’s not all bad news, though. A.L.L. can be cured, and it looks like we’ve caught Kendra’s early enough. I can’t say for sure at this point. We’ll need to run more tests, but I’d say her prognosis is at least guarded.

I glanced at Patty, then back at the doc.

So what’s all that mean? Is she gonna die? Best get that out of the way right off the bat. I’d do whatever it took to keep her alive as long as we could, but I still wanted to know the truth up front.

He gave another tired smile. The five-year survival rate for A.L.L. is over seventy-five percent, especially in Kendra’s case. She’s Caucasian, and she’s less than ten years old. Being a girl also helps. A lot of it depends on how she responds to her initial treatment. He shrugged. Until then, that’s the best I can offer you. I could get into a lot of jargon and medical talk, but I know that wouldn’t help you.

I stared at him a few seconds, then said, Thanks, Doc. That’s the way I want it, nice and simple.

Another smile. Maybe he thought it would help, but it didn’t. Not a bit. I had to give him credit for trying, though.

Is there anything I can do for you? he said.

Patty’s voice was strong this time. Get my daughter well.

I’ll do my best. We won’t be doing the treatments here, but I’ll keep an eye on the case and be sure she gets the finest. He stared down the hall in what I figgered was Kendy’s direction. I see a lot of children in here, and that’s one special little lady you’ve got down there. Brave, too. He turned back to us. That will count for a lot.

Patty nodded.

The doctor stood up. I have other patients to attend, but if you need anything, just let one of the nurses know.

Can we see her? I said.

Of course. I’ll take you to her room.

KENDY TOOK IT better than any of us. When we walked in the room, she grinned at us like it was all pretend. Eight years old and it was like she didn’t really know what was goin on. But when I looked at her close, I could see in her eyes that she knowed.

She just wasn’t gonna let it get to her.

That’s how she was.

She stayed that way all through the visit, too. I can’t really tell you any details, cause it’s still pretty fuzzy. I do remember she talked us all into going home and getting some rest, that it didn’t do any good for us to hang around there. Patty promised to be back first thing in the morning, and I said I’d get away from work soon as I could.

When I got home, I was in a daze. I stood inside the door for a minute or so, and the house looked like someone else’s. A friend’s maybe, a place I visited enough to know what it looked like but didn’t feel like it was home.

I sat down in my chair and stared at the TV screen. I wasn’t big on watching TV, so it didn’t get turned on much anyhow. But even if I’d watched it all the time, there wasn’t no way I’d have watched it that night. It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. The falling water on the roof sounded good.

My little girl had leukemia.

How the hell do you deal with something like that?

It was like I’d been hit over the head with a sledgehammer. Or maybe run over by a Mack truck.

The clock ticked in the kitchen, sounding loud in the quiet. I tried to figger out what I mighta done for this to happen to me. To us. But I couldn’t think of anything. I mean, I ain’t ever been what you’d call perfect, not by a long shot. At the same time, it ain’t like I’d killed anybody, either.

I ain’t sure how long I sat there before I decided maybe I should eat something. I’m not one of them that can’t eat when he’s upset. My mom was, but not me. So I headed on in the kitchen and stirred something up.

The hard part about it all was the not knowing. There was a lot I didn’t know about leukemia, and it bothered me that I didn’t. I didn’t want a medical degree, but maybe if I understood it some I’d be able to deal with it a little better.

I stared into the fridge for what seemed like about two weeks before I finally got out a Tupperware bowl with some chili mac in it and threw it in the microwave. No way I felt up to cooking anything. The chicken and stroganoff could wait till another time.

While the food nuked I popped the top off a beer. I wasn’t about to get drunk, but I wanted more than a glass of milk, even though I don’t usually like to mix beer and food.

Nothin felt real. It was like walking around in a dream or something. Or maybe watching it all on TV. Like it was happening to someone else, not me.

Not my daughter.

I finally figgered this would take dealing with a little at a time. No way I could take it all on at once.

One day at a time.

CHAPTER TWO

AIN’T IT SOMETHING how you don’t always see the things that change your life?

I mean, you just go through your day-to-day, paying bills, working, taking care of your kids, maybe goin fishing or deer huntin every now and then, and you don’t see no reason for it to change that much.

Sure, there’s things happen, like when your folks get killed in a head-on with a drunk while they’re comin back from a weekend in Branson. One minute you got parents, the next they’re