Moonshine, Coal, and Hope

by Richard Allen Evans

  “How is she is?” He asked with a feeling of dread.

  “For the past two hours the coughing has been as bad as I’ve ever seen it,” Trish said.

  “Blood?” John asked.

  Trish nodded sadly.

  “Every time — even had a nose bleed with her last coughing spell,” she said.

  John raised his right hand and rubbed his eyes. No, not yet. He willed himself not to breakdown but he knew he wasn’t far from it no matter what he wanted.

  “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll stay with her now,” John said.

  Trish shook her head.

  “I’ll be here on the couch — just in case either of you need me,” she said.

  John nodded and walked into the bed room. He took the chair next to the bed and watched his sleeping wife. In the dim light he watched — and heard — her labored breathing. Rachel’s time was growing shorter. She had only days left at the most and that was optimistic.

  Tears started to roll down his cheek slowly.

  Guilt racked his soul. As she suffered the past few months so much of his time was taken up by his practice. He could help others but not the woman he loved. And then Bob got shot and lost a good portion of his left leg. John couldn’t help him either. It felt like the world was unraveling around him.

  Rachel shivered in her sleep. John reached out and gently felt touched her forehead. Fever — not a good sign. He touched the side of her face.

  “What will I do without you?” John whispered.

  He got out of the chair and crawled into the bed with her. John embraced her, pulling her to his chest. Rachel opened her eyes. The dark rings under her eyes were more pronounced. She smiled weakly.

  “You feel good. You’re so warm,” Rachel said.

  John returned her smile.

  “You go back to sleep. You need to rest,” he said.

  Rachel shook her head.

  “I’ll be sleeping soon enough. You’re the one who needs rest. You’ve lost weight...you just look like you’re run ragged,” she said.

  He smiled faintly.

  “I love you too,” he said.

  She shook her head again and gave him a determined look.

  “I mean it. You’re wore to the bone between takin’ care of me, doctorin’, and Bob, you’ve not slept any,” Rachel said.

  “I’m just trying to do everything I can. I’m a doctor — I can’t help myself. Besides, you’re my wife. I’m supposed to take care of you,” John said as his hand rubbed her back.

  “And I appreciate everything you’ve done but we both know what I’m facin’. And we know it won’t much longer,” she said calmly as tears began to well in his eyes.

  “Rachel...don’t talk like that,” John said.

  “The Lord give me peace about it John. I ain’t worried about me. I worry about you and Ginny,” she said.

  John opened his mouth but no words came out.

  Tears now formed in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry I won’t be here with you to see our little girl grow up. You’ve got to be strong for her. Promise me you’ll take of yourself so that you can do that,” she said.

  “I’ll always take care of our daughter. You don’t need to worry about that,” John said.

  She turned her head to cough.

  “You didn’t promise you’d take care of yourself,” Rachel said.

  “You’re starting to sound like Bob,” he said before she arched her eyebrows and looked at him for a silent seconds. “I promise,” he said quietly.

  ***

  Lee sat at the desk in the library in a chair once occupied by his father. He was restless. Joe was raised to be a paper pusher — not him. Lee ached to do what he enjoyed, namely kicking ass and raising hell. Circumstances would not allow it at the moment.

  For the time being he was needed as the head of the family business, even if his mother and sister were the only people who knew he was actually part of the family.

  Lee looked over the paperwork on his desk. A strike loomed large and threatened to paralyze the company. He despised the United Mine Workers and the thought of having to negotiate with them sickened him. But they were emboldened, knowing Ed Elkins had muscle to back them up thereby negating the possible use of scabs. Crossing the picket line would mean more bloodshed.

  Though he wouldn’t mind seeing more than a few miners die — he was even tempted to help — more bloodshed would mean more attention and Lee needed to avoid notice as much as possible. He simply could not afford to have someone start digging into his background too much.

  Lee held up the paperwork and placed them on the desk. He wasn’t the most educated person in his family but he didn’t have to be to see the company cash flow stood at a trickle and had for several months. Coupled with fines and litigation costs — not to mention outright bribes – that strained the family fortune. Russell did a great job of keeping things above water but he couldn’t rebuild what once was the largest fortune in Kentucky.

  Lee opened the dark cherry humidor on the right of the desk and pulled out a cigar. He preferred cigarettes but Russell stocked the humidor just a day before he was killed. Lee hated to waste some of the Bluegrass Region’s finest tobacco. As he lit the cigar, he started to think.

  Lee realized a couple of things. First, he could not do the job alone. He needed help. He lacked the business acumen and the patience to rebuild Milner Mining. He even hated overseeing the day to day operation of the company.

  A second thing Lee came to recognize was the family could no longer depend on one product. They had to start thinking beyond coal and beyond Kentucky. They needed to have revenue coming in from several sources — without having to depend on a local workforce that now hated the Milner name.

  He picked the ear piece of the candlestick phone on his desk.

  “Operator, please connect me with the law offices of Broderick, Broderick, and Hunt,” Lee said as he waited patiently for the call to go through.

  “Yes ma’am, this is Leonard Elmore, the new president of Milner Mining and I need to speak to Richard Broderick. It’s urgent,” Lee said.

  He listened to her response.

  Broderick answered the call.

  Lee introduced himself.

  “What can I do for you today Mr. Elmore?” The attorney asked.

  “I’ll make this short and sweet. The Milner family has authorized me to pay whatever it takes to get Joe Milner out of prison as quickly as possible,” Lee said.

  Broadrick chuckled.

  “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that Mr. Elmore. There are procedures that must be followed. We’re filing appeals but it’s a time-consuming process. Mr. Milner was found guilty of several serious felonies — all in federal court. It’s not like placing a call to a friendly judge to get someone out of a drunk tank,” he explained.

  “For all of the money the Milner family has paid you over the years I would have expected a better answer,” Lee said.

  “How dare you?” Broderick huffed. “Who are you to lecture me about how much money anyone has paid me? The Milners need to understand they have no political influence left and they have only themselves to blame. I’m doing the best I can do under very difficult circumstances and you — like them — will have to accept that. They no longer command the respect they once did.”

  Lee seethed.

  “Is that a fact? Let me ask you a question Mr. Broderick. Are you still screwing that Jenkins woman over in that house on Stamey Street? You know, the one that had your bastard boy? Does your wife know?” Lee asked.

  There was silence on the phone as he imagined the expression on Broderick’s face.

  “How could you possibly—” Lee cut him off.

  “I just need to hear a dollar figure. How much will it cost to get Joe Milner out of prison?” Lee asked.

  There was a hesitation.

  “I’ll need to contact a few people. I have to be careful. I’ll call you back this afternoon or in the morning,” Brod
erick said.

  “That’s fine. My regards to the missus,” Lee said as he hung up the phone.

  ***

  Bob slowly made his way into the newsroom. Leaning on the crutches, he swung his artificial leg forward. Mac Reynolds was the first to notice him as Bob walked toward his desk. Mac jumped to his feet as if ready to offer assistance.

  “Sit down Mac. I can make it,” Bob said.

  “How are you feeling?” Mac asked.

  “About half a leg lighter but otherwise okay,” Bob said as he eased into his desk chair. “Which means I ain’t gonna be playing football again.”

  Mac stood awkwardly searching for a response when Evan came out of his office.

  “Bob! It’s good to see you back,” he said as he made his way to the desk with his hand outstretched.

  Bob accepted the hand.

  “It feels pretty good to be back,” he said.

  “You sure you’re ready to get back to work?” Evan queried.

  “Yeah, I’ve got to have something to do,” Bob said.

  “You got something in mind?” Evan asked.

  “I thought I’d start with a first person narrative of the shooting – or at least what I can remember of it,” Bob said.

  Evan winced slightly.

  “Look, people want to know what happened and they need to know. Until all of the labor disputes are settled down there, everybody’s a target,” Bob said.

  “Including our boss. Well, if that’s what you want to do, run with it,” Evan said before realizing his faux pas a millisecond too late. “I-I mean. Damn Bob, I’m sorry,” he stammered as his cheeks reddened.

  “I know what you meant,” Bob said with a reassuring smile. “Don’t think anything of it.”

  Cotton walked up to the desk and gave Evan a welcome escape from the moment.

  “Maybe Cotton can fill in some details of what happened in the aftermath,” Evan said.

  “What did I just walk in on?” Cotton asked.

  “My first person account of the shooting,” Bob said.

  “You might want to talk to Ed and Hill too — if they’ll go on the record. That other guy from the union might be ready to talk now that the shock has worn off,” Cotton said as took a seat on the edge of Bob’s desk.

  “And get some comments from the sheriff down there. Find out how the investigation is going and if they have a suspect yet,” Evan said.

  “They found a rifle near the tree line. The sheriff sent it the FBI to be fingerprinted,” Cotton said.

  “They get results back?” Bob asked.

  “Not yet – or at least they hadn’t the last I heard. Could be any day now,” Cotton said.

  “I hate to mention this but maybe you could talk to the doctor who performed surgery on you – get his perspective of the wound? Find out if you’re the only victim of violence he’s treated as a result of the labor trouble,” Mac suggested.

  “A surprisingly good idea,” Bob said as he started scribbling in a notebook.

  “We have the art to go with it,” Evan said as he nodded toward Cotton.

  Bob looked at Cotton curiously.

  “Did you happen to get a picture of me after the shooting?” Bob asked.

  “Good Lord Bob! What kind of man do you think I am?” Cotton asked as Evan and Mac both gasped audibly at the question.

  “Well, did you?” Bob persisted.

  Cotton clicked his tongue against his teeth.

  “A couple — I didn’t know if the cops might need one,” he said.

  Evan and Mac looked at Cotton with a mix of disgust and surprise while Bob merely nodded.

  “Anything we can use in the paper?” Bob asked.

  “Evan has the say so of course, but yeah, I think so,” Cotton answered.

  “Good,” Bob said calmly.

  ***

  “It’s real simple boys. If I decide someone — like a miner or a group of miners and their families — needs protection, you’re it. And you protect them any way you can and whatever you have to do it with,” Ed said to the group of twenty men in front of him.

  They met in the mineshaft office. Ed was flanked by Hill and Willy. Rocky looked up and grinned at Willie.

  “Well kid, I guess you get to show us what you do for fun here,” he said.

  Willy smiled.

  “Like I said, pretty much the same — just shorter buildings and fewer people,” he said.

  Ed listened and nodded.

  “You boys have fun but don’t get stupid. You get arrested, I’m done with you. I didn’t bring you to Kentucky to be leg—breakers. I want to say it again, your job is protection. You’re not deliverymen and you don’t work the stills. Do your job and I’ll pay you well. I’ll see you’re taken care of for as long as you work for me. Cross me and I’ll make our friend Al look like a meter maid,” he said as he gestured for Hill to speak up.

  “You’ll each be partnered up with a local man, somebody that knows the people, the communities, and the roads. Any questions?” Hill asked.

  The men from Chicago shook their heads.

  “I think we got it,” Rocky said.

  George Goode, one of the first drivers Hill hired walked into the room. Hill motioned him over.

  “Hear anything George?”

  A short, slightly overweight man in his early thirties, George was usually quick with a smile and a dirty joke for every occasion. At the moment he was somber.

  “I just heard from a friend at the courthouse. Fingerprints came back on that rifle they found. It was Lee James Milner,” George said.

  Ed nodded.

  “I knew it. He’s back,” he said as his anger grew.

  “We’ll find him and we’ll get him,” Hill said.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Rachel sat in the rocking chair by the fireplace watching Ginny struggle to unwrap a gift — a simple doll John found at the new drug store on Main Street. Rachel was thin, pale, and weak but her eyes lit up with joy when she watched Ginny tearing the newspaper wrapping under the tree.

  John stood next to the fireplace, left elbow resting on the mantle with a lit pipe in his mouth. As Rachel watched Ginny, he watched her.

  Trish sat on the couch laughing and talking with Rachel about the doll as Ginny embraced the toy.

  That Rachel made it to Christmas Eve was a miracle in itself but as John watched his wife he noticed how taxing it was for her just to sit upright. Even Cat – who always tried to be an optimist – agreed that Rachel had already exceeded her life expectancy given her current state.

  John tried to put on a brave face but Rachel could see right through it. Every night it seemed they had the same conversation about how it could be their last together and what she wanted for him and Ginny after her ordeal ended.

  Adam and Marlene sat on the couch and reveled in their only grandchild’s glee.

  They sat for another half hour or so, laughing and talking before Ginny started to get fussy.

  “I think it’s time for a little girl and her doll to get ready for bed,” Rachel said just above a whisper.

  “Let’s go Ginny. Tell mommy and daddy good night,” Trish said as she picked up the toddler.

  Ginny said her goodnights kissed her grandparents and parents. Rachel lingered in the embrace of her daughter.

  “Goodnight honey. Mommy loves you so much,” she said.

  John noticed the tears welling in Rachel’s eyes. His heart sank. She looked up at him with a faint smile as Maggie took Ginny to the bedroom. He noticed Marlene and Adam watching her too.

  “It’s almost time my love,” Rachel said as she lifted her hand for him take.

  John grasped her hand gently.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you too,” he replied as her smile faded and eyes rolled back. Rachel collapsed as John ducked forward to catch her limp body. He scooped up into his arms. She was still breathing.

  “Rachel!” Marlene exclaimed as John rushed into the bedroom with his wife
and placed her on the bed.

  “Stay with her. I’ve got to call Cat,” John said as he hurried to the phone in the living room.

  He came back in a couple of minutes later. John took a seat on the bed holding his wife’s hand. Marlene and Adam sat on the other side. Marlene slowly stroked the side of Rachel’s face and cried softly. Adam placed both hands on his wife’s shoulders. Silent tears fell from his eyes.

  It wasn’t until John saw the teardrops fall on his own hand that he realized he was even crying. A couple of minutes later Trish ran into the room. She looked at Rachel and then to John. Her hand went to her mouth and didn’t quite cover her gasp as she too started to weep.

  John struggled to speak.

  “Her heart’s still beating...but it won’t be much longer,” he said.

  They sat in silence until they heard a knock on the door. Trish hurried to answer as Cat and Victoria entered.

  “They’re in the bedroom,” she said as Cat moved as quickly as he could. Victoria followed.

  A couple of minutes later Cat and Victoria emerged. Trish looked at them in askance.

  “She’s lapsed into a coma...it could be anytime,” Cat said as he took his coat off and tossed it onto the couch.

  Victoria wrung her hands and paced before she settled down enough to take a seat on the couch, taking time to place Cat’s coat over the arm of the sofa. Trish stood off to the side still in shock.

  Cat walked over by the fireplace and watched the flames dance over the hickory logs. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and returned them without getting one out.

  Adam and Marlene slowly walked back into the living room. Both looked pale and shaken. Marlene wept uncontrollably. Adam had his left arm wrapped around his wife. His voice cracked as he spoke.

  “She’s...gone,” Adam said.

  Trish stood and wept softly as Victoria walked over and embraced her. Marlene joined them. They cried together as Adam walked to the couch and buried his face in his hands.

  Cat wore a sad expression as his reddened eyes scanned the room. John walked in and looked to him.

  “You need to record the time of death,” John said.