Not everyone is cut out for a life of crime. Thankfully, most of you fall in that category. You have that tiny voice, the one that shames you for even thinking about stealing, or cheating to get ahead. Criminals can rationalize away guilt, quell conscience, silence the voice that doles out shame. I had that ability, probably still do. I don't make that statement with any pride or smugness, it is what it is. I choose to not use this criminal super power, like Gary Cooper hanging up his pistols for a plow, I've closed the door on that chapter, although I leave it slightly ajar to share it with all of you. Truth be told, there is a part of me that misses that life, I suppose writing about it calms the itch, keeps my powder dry. There is a small cross section of society that falls somewhere in the middle. Somewhere between John Q Citizen and career criminal. They can't excel in the square world, and they don't have the stomach for the underbelly, and every now and again they wander over to the wrong side of the tracks, never to return. That's what this latest installment is about, people I've known who got in over their heads and paid the ultimate price.
Gina was one of those girls who made men do a double take when she walked by. I knew her and her two brothers since elementary school. They had devoutly religious, overly strict parents, Jehovah Witnesses, I think. The boys were finally given some freedom by Jr. high, and they turned out okay. Gina on the other hand was kept under ever stricter control, the more she matured, the tighter the rein. I've no doubt her father believed his gorgeous daughter was at great peril form the hordes of testosterone amped boys, who looked at her lustfully. so she was driven to and from school, not allowed to date, not allowed friends outside the family's religious circle. The day Gina turned 18 she left home and moved in with a car thief named Darren.
Gina didn't stay with Darren for long, as soon as she learned how easily she could manipulate men, she found a bigger and better crook, she got herself a dope dealer. She also got herself a first rate drug problem, cocaine. Coke affects women differently than men, it takes a heavier toll on her looks, it kills that thing that makes a woman really something special, it extinguishes that spark in her eye. I watched Gina go through that same slow death like process for about a year and a half. She was still something to see, still drop dead gorgeous, but the light had left her eyes, replaced by a harder, colder something. I cant explain it, you would just have to see it for yourself. If you or someone you have been close to ever got on that end, then you know what I'm talking about, if not, be thankful and hope you never see it first hand.
There are people who like to rub elbows with criminals, like groupies almost, or hanger on types. These same people will begin to think they belong, that they have the same character defects and moral ambiguity that it takes to break the law for a living. More often than not, they don't, and they end up totally out of their element, in way over their heads. I can't say with absolute certainty that is what happened with Gina, but my gut says that was the case. At some point she started an on again off again game with the coke dealer. When it was in the Off phase, I'd see her around, usually selling small amounts of powder to the bar crowd, hustling one guy or another, playing at something she wasn't really suited for. I heard from other people that the coke guy smacked her around, which would lead to a black eye, and a brief off again period. But she would always go back, that's where the dope was.
Sometimes the people who need help the most never get it, nobody offers, even though in many cases, it might actually work were it offered. When you are close to it, when you see someone in trouble, you have to look the other way. You can't save the Charlies and the Gina's, not when you are living dirty yourself. It's a cover your own ass kind of world, as callous as that may be. So you maybe offer up a quick line like" you can do better", or, "who needs that shit", then you go back to worrying about yourself.
It came as no big surprise when I heard Gina had turned up dead. They found her body near a boat ramp on the Missouri river. Her head caved in by a rock. There were never any charges, and probably not much of an investigation. Everyone assumed the boyfriend did it, but who knows. Toward the end she played a lot of games with a lot of different people, so there's no telling who it might have been. I wish I could say that the news of her death had an impact on me at the time, but it didn't. Sure it was sad news, tragic even, but I didn't give the news more than a cursory acknowledgement and obligatory " That's a shame".
All of this took place around 25 years ago, maybe a little longer. Looking back on it now disturbs me more than when it all happened. Maybe it's guilt talking, or some morbid nostalgia. I've drug this thing out a whole lot longer than I intended. It's tough to make someone like Gina sound sympathetic. Of course its tragic when anyone is killed, but when that person isn't living right, is putting their self out there, there is a " you get what you ask for" mentality, sometimes unspoken, but it's there. The thing is, I remember Gina from grade school, when she was just an over protected kid. I watched her grow up, insulated from all of the Boogie Men, imagined by her over bearing father, only to fall prey to a real one.
