Shine On

by Jewell, Allison J.

  “Well, it was Mama’s recipe and, of course, I’ve got some for him.” Emmie produced a basket with two big jars full of the warm applesauce. “He picked all these apples, it’s only fair.”

  “Thanks, Emmie. I appreciate all you are doing for him,” he said.

  “You know I’m happy to,” she said. “I’ve got something else to share with you too.”

  She walked over to the counter and strained what looked like the last few spoonfuls of a very watered-down applesauce. “Now just hear me out before you give me opinions, okay?” she asked.

  Emmie took a small cup down from the cabinet and poured a little of the liquid into it. Then she sat the cup down next to him. “Taste it.” She had that same mad-scientist look in her eyes as she did the day she made that first batch of paste for him.

  He picked up the cup and threw back the drink. Sweet, warm, spice. It was good. “Ya making drinks now, girl? Cause you’ll want to be careful with this stuff.”

  “Walt, it’s not for me. It’s for you. To help you pick up business. I figured if you had something better to offer it might take out the competition.”

  “Competition,” he laughed at first then fell stone silent thinking about Ronnie. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about. This ain’t some kind of baseball game, child.”

  Emmie was so tired of hearing that she was a child. She was twenty-one years old for goodness sake. Most girls her age were getting married, having kids. She did know about this—he was wrong.

  “You think I don’t know? I know what this is. I also know this will sell. Last night I drank something called Georgia’s peach ’shine at a…” she started to tell him everything but stopped herself not wanting to get anyone in trouble. She didn’t really know if he was supposed to know about the speak. “Well, it doesn’t matter where but it was good. People are buying this stuff, Walt. I promise.” Her eyes widened as she spoke. She pulled out a chair and sat at the table across him.

  If he were a younger man, he’d be angry with her for her mouthing back at him like that. But he was old enough to know she was just a child—just a child without a clue about the road she was driving herself down. He had to do the right thing and get her out of this.

  “Emmie, I appreciate you trying to help out,” he paused, “but I don’t know nobody that’s looking for apple pie tasting moonshine. You know I’m selling to people my age that like the burning taste of this white lightning. No matter how good that stuff is, they wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

  “But you could find new clients. Try to sell it to people like Ava or me that don’t really drink much and don’t like that strong taste. Just social drinkers, ya know?” she suggested.

  Walter looked mildly amused. “You want me to walk around town and ask young girls if they want some of my apple pie ’shine? I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t have a good ending for me.”

  She looked at him annoyed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Yeah, I know what you meant. But there’s stuff about this business you don’t know and I don’t want you to know. I appreciate you looking out for me and trying to boost my sale but you’re staying out of it. Here’s the new plan…” He took out his pipe and lit it, taking a few puffs before he finished speaking, “I’m gonna take that ’shine outta your pantry because you don’t need that in your house and I’ve got a place to hide it. When I sell it, half the money is yours. That should knock a dent in that tuition money that you need for next year. In the meantime, you’re gonna have nothing to do with any of this. We’re just going to go on living our life like normal. I’m going to keep doing what I do and you’re going to keep working there at Mr. Thomas’s store and tutoring Max. You’ll get to start that college next year. That’s the best I can do Emmie. I hope you know that.”

  “Walter, I cannot just take your money,” she started quietly.

  “You’re not. It was Ronnie’s ’shine too. Think of it as an inheritance. He didn’t leave you anything else.”

  “What about the paste?” she asked.

  “Child, with as much ’shine as you have in that pantry, it’s gonna be awhile before I need to make more.” He then added, “It’s better this way, trust me.”

  She nodded but she sure wished they could have had this conversation yesterday.

  He stood and walked over to the pantry, opened the door and looked back at her confused. “Emmie, what happened to the ’shine?” It was gone.

  “Well, I guess I should have asked you first but…” She turned to look at the floor next to the stove. He followed her eyes.

  “Oh for Christ’s sakes, Emmie. What in the world have you done?” he sighed, walking over to the stacks of amber-colored liquid.

  “I’m sorry Walter. I really thought I was helping.” She felt her eyes well up. That made her angry. Really, of all the things she’d been through in the last few months, this was what she was going to cry over. The fact she made some apple moonshine that Walter didn’t want. But she couldn’t help it. Her throat swelled so she could no longer speak. She’d screwed up big time. Ruined no telling how much money of Walter’s ’shine all over a stupid idea. The whole thing was dumb. He was right. What did she know about any of this?

  She walked over to the pantry and pulled out one of the empty crates she’d found in the barn. She neatly packed a few jars of the applesauce she’d made for Walter to take home to his family. Emmie got them all packed and loaded carefully in the front seat of his truck. As she walked back into the kitchen she found Walter holding a bottle of the apple pie ’shine. He was inspecting it like it was a fine piece of china. Running his wrinkled fingers over the smooth glass and the little scrap of blue-checkered fabric she had added to the top, just to pretty it up.

  “It’s the nicest looking ’shine bottle I’ve ever seen. I know you was just trying to help,” he said, looking at her. He walked over to the pantry, grabbed a few more empty crates and started filling them with the apple pie ’shine.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Packing up the moonshine like I came here to do,” he answered.

  “You don’t need to take this. I can figure out how to get rid of it.”

  “Emmie, I am not leaving you with this ’shine in your house. I’ll figure this out. My friends like apple pie so I’m sure they’ll like this too,” he smiled at her.

  Emmie was pretty sure there was nothing else he could say to make her feel any worse. She knew better than to offer to help solve this again. There was no way he would let her. “Can I keep a couple jars? I mean for Ava and her brother?” she added.

  “Sure, just keep them hidden until you give it to them.” He handed her two of the jars. She set them on the counter.

  Together they carried the crates to the truck, covered them with blankets, and then stacked some bales of straw on top to hide the glass jars. He probably wouldn’t run into anyone on the short drive to his home but you couldn’t be too safe. The eighteenth left no loopholes for a farmer hauling moonshine.

  “I’m sorry, Walt,” she said again.

  “Shush. I ain’t listening to your apologies. You was just trying to help. I’ve been around these hills long enough to know things always works out,” he said then climbed into the truck and drove away.

  Emmie waved goodbye until she could no longer see his truck. She stepped off the porch, walked up the hill, sat on her Mama’s grave, and let the tears flow freely down her cheeks. Not even bothering to hold back. What would her mama think of the person she had become? It was so far from the life she had planned.

  Chapter Twenty

  Silas was exhausted. Thank God it was Saturday and he didn’t have to spend this morning at his uncle’s law firm. He brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face in an attempt to wake up. It didn’t seem to be working. His bare feet led him downstairs where he could smell freshly brewed coffee. Trick must already be awake.

  “You look like death, brother. What happened last n
ight?” Trick asked with a smile. The last time he saw Silas he was driving away in the middle of the night with a beautiful girl. Death was not exactly what he had expected Silas to look like this morning.

  Silas just shook his head and rubbed his jaw. He helped himself to a cup of black coffee and sat down across from his brother.

  “Did something happen when ya dropped Emmie off?” Trick pushed further.

  “No… yeah. But it’s not what you are thinking, I’m sure,” Silas answered, still fidgeting with his coffee cup. He took a few drinks before he went on. “Remember that man we found dead… the one that took the money and never paid us back or delivered the moonshine?”

  “Yeah,” Trick answered.

  “That was Emmie’s stepfather. She lives there… in that house, on that land, where we torched the car.” Trick’s mouth fell open while Silas explained.

  “Guess that explained why Vince hightailed it down here when we called him that night. Also tells us why he felt he was the only one that could deal with Ronnie’s family and ask about the cash. They are so damn protective of her they never even told me who she was, like I wasn’t going to put it all together eventually.” Silas shook his head.

  They sat there in silence for a second before Trick spoke, “Damn. I don’t know what to say. What are you gonna do?”

  “Well, Gabe got a piece of my mind last night. Vince and I will talk when he gets back. And that’s not even the worst thing that happened yesterday.”

  That piqued Trick’s curiosity. “Something worse than Gabe and Vince not telling you Emmie’s dad was the guy who took our money and ran… and now we are stuck down here till we can find it? I can’t wait to hear what else happened last night.”

  “This hillbilly that looked like he hadn’t showered in a month came in running his mouth about our joint. Says he knew we recently lost all of our moonshine flow, that we’d recently been stiffed some money, and that our businesses were looking for some new partners,” Silas explained.

  “What did you tell him? How did he know all that? Did a lot of folks around here know that James was buying from Ronnie?” Trick fired off the questions without giving him time to answer.

  Silas shrugged his shoulders. “Wish I knew more than I do. I don’t like him knowing all that shit though. Makes me wonder if he was talking about the money Ronnie owed. You know all along Vince has been saying he bets our money is in the hands of whoever killed Ronnie. This guy maybe is the lead to follow.”

  “Did you get any info outta him?” Trick asked.

  “Not much. We know that man was just a mouse sent in to test the waters with us. Roughed him up a little bit and he squealed like a pig. Sam Young is the man we need to talk to. Gabe is going to set something up the end of this week. You want to come?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Trick smiled. “I think you’re right, especially now that we know Emmie is Ronnie’s only family. If she is hiding that money, she’s got nothing to show for it.”

  Silas nodded, agreeing with his brother. Last night he remembered a conversation he’d overheard between Emmie and Mr. Thomas. She had asked him for a raise, talked about needing money for the mortgage and school. If she had the money she wouldn’t be begging that man for extra cash. Vince was probably right. But that didn’t make it right that they had lied to him.

  “So what are you doing to do about Emmie?” Trick asked, finishing the last drink of his coffee.

  “I don’t know. You think I should cut it off with her? I mean that’d be the best thing to do, right?” Silas asked.

  Trick wouldn’t have been more surprised if pigs had flown through the kitchen. His brother had never ever, in his entire life asked him for advice. “I think you should do whatever it is you want to do. But I will say this, would you have even questioned what to do with any of those other gals you’ve been with?”

  Silas thought about it for a second. “No, I would have left without thinking twice,” he shrugged.

  “So maybe this is different, you said yourself you wouldn’t have even questioned it before… Maybe you should just stick with it.” Trick really thought his brother deserved a little something good in his life. He’d really never seen him as happy as he was last night at the speak and Emmie seemed like a good girl.

  Silas stood, nodded, and walked out the kitchen door without another word.

  ***********

  By the time he got dressed and made it to Emmie’s, it was nearly eleven. He knocked on the door only to find no answer but a barking dog. He knocked again harder and this time the door actually squeaked open.

  “Emmie…. Emmie….” he called a few times before he crossed over the threshold. He let himself in and closed the door behind him. She was gone but couldn’t be far. Her purse was sitting by the door and there was a cup of coffee on the kitchen table. And the dog was locked in the house.

  “Easy there boy,” he said. The dog stood at attention and barked at him. Clearly he wasn’t a fan of strangers coming in his house. Silas eased past the dog into the small kitchen. He found some apple scraps on the counter and handed them over.

  “See there boy, I’m a friend.” He approached the dog cautiously. The dog took the treat and wagged his tale. “Some guard dog you are,” Silas laughed then took in his surroundings.

  The farmhouse was small. Downstairs there was a kitchen, staircase and then a small sitting room. In the back of the house there was a tiny bedroom barely big enough for a bed and a chest. It didn’t look like a woman’s room though. There were no powders, shoes or dresses. He spotted a pair of men’s work boots in the corner.

  This must have been her stepfather’s room. He walked back to the front of the house and went up a couple stairs until he was tall enough to see the loft. This was her bedroom—still small but full of her things. He recognized the shoes she wore last night. The slip she wore the first time he saw her at the pool was draped over a chair in the corner. There was a stack of books next to her bed. He smiled, glancing around. This space fit her. Simple, eclectic, and it smelled like heaven in here. What in the world was she cooking? He stepped down and walked back to the kitchen. The kitchen table was stacked with jars all covered with a little blue checked cloth.

  Silas picked one up and held it in his hand. It was still slightly warm. How early had she gotten up to start canning? He hadn’t dropped her off until after midnight. She’d probably gotten up and started cooking before daylight. He smelled the pot that was still dirty on the stove. It only had the a little bit of applesauce left. Mmm… that smelled delicious.

  He sat down at the kitchen table and waited. The dog whimpered and Silas found more apple scraps. She surely wouldn’t be gone long. His eyes glanced back to the end of the house again, Ronnie’s bedroom. His mind flashed back to that night. There had been four of them on this property that night: Gabe, Trick, Sheriff Drake, and himself. He had come to this house that night but it was all locked up. James had told them he was pretty sure Ronnie’s still was on this land by the way he’d been bragging about it at the pig. They’d been walking around searching for it when they heard the gunshot. By the time they got to the car Ronnie was already dead. Shot in the chest right there in the driver’s seat of his car. The old man had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw them—Strangers, Suites, Guns, Badges. He looked scared to see the four of them standing there. When he composed himself he said he lived just down the way and had come running when he heard the shot. Silas never believed that. That old man was out in the woods for something that night.

  Sheriff Drake, an old friend of the DeCarmilla family (meaning on their payroll), had assured them that the old man was no threat. So, they had let him go. It had been Silas who convinced the sheriff to start the fiery crash, after they checked the car for the money. He didn’t want folks around town to start asking too many questions about the murder. Silas needed to be able to handle this one without the hassle of dealing with the local police. Ronnie had a reputation as an alcoholic; it was better tha
t everyone just thought he’d had an accident.

  Without realizing what he was doing, he found himself in Ronnie’s old room. The dog followed him, cocking his head to the side. Silas ignored him, glancing around for anything that looked odd. He looked in the drawers for false fronts, nothing. He quickly looked under the mattress, nothing. Double-checked the pillows, nothing. He was getting ready to leave when something on the floor caught his eye. Next to his work boots one of the wooden slats of the floor was slightly raised. He bent down and slid his finger along the slot until he could pry it up. Sure enough there was a small box. Opening it up there was a letter to Emmie and under the letter was a stack of cash. A quick count of the money showed it was over $700. It wasn’t all the money he had owed but it was a pretty good chunk. He quickly stuffed the money in his vest pocket. But then he couldn’t move. He should just take that money and leave. It was their money… his money. It was not hers. He flipped the envelope with her name on it over and over in his hand. He wondered what the note said. Should he read it before he took the money? No, of course not.

  He reached in and took the money out of his vest and put it back into the box and replaced the floorboard. What was wrong with him? He just needed time to think through all this. It wasn’t all of the money anyway. He’d follow the hillbilly’s lead to this Sam guy and then decide what to do with all of this.

  He walked back to the front of the house as quickly as his feet could take him, before he came to his senses and tried to get that money again. As he reached down to grab the knob of the front door it popped open smacking him right in the face.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Damn it,” he shouted. That was a pretty good hit.

  Emmie stared back at him with her mouth open wide. “Oh Silas, I am so sorry!”

  Spotty danced from foot to foot barking for her attention. She reached a hand down but he jumped away from her. He padded back to Ronnie room, barking at the door. She shushed him, leaned up and gently touched Silas’s face.