The Moonshiner's Daughter (ARC)
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drop me off to spend the day, but now I’d drive myself unless he was needing the truck. As the preacher’s wife, her mama
was expected to keep everything neat as a pin for any unex-
pected soul needing spiritual attention. Their grass was perfection, mowed like a flattop crew cut, flowers bloomed in
various beds around the yard, and it was the same inside the house.
Aubrey tapped again, and I moved away from the window,
toward the back of the house. I didn’t want to see anyone, not even her.
She knocked harder, and Merritt yelled from his bedroom,
“Jessie! Answer the damn door, will you? Geez!”
I froze midway down the hall.
She called my name through the screen. “Jessie?”
I plodded back to the living room and wrenched it open.
“What?”
Her eyebrows raised. I hadn’t been to school in a week,
hadn’t washed my hair, hadn’t done much of nothing since
that night.
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She held up a little basket covered with a cloth and gave me a hesitant smile, “Can I come in?”
I held the door open, and she walked by smelling like
Breck shampoo and whatever was in the basket, warm from
the oven. I folded my arms over my middle, and wished I’d
at least washed my hair. Or put on something other than the
too-small, ratty-looking housecoat. I held it tight around my neck, the way someone much older might do, like I didn’t
want any part of my flesh exposed. I was back to not eating
again, struggling with shame while arguing with myself over
the justifiable reasons for emptying the refrigerator. There was more to that overall picture as it was. What Daddy had
cared most about was getting Sally Sue, and now that was
done, every night when he came home, he’d worked on her,
while he and Uncle Virgil took supplies out to Boomer, Blood Creek, and Big Warrior. Another night they went on an unexpected run together in the truck. Nothing was different,
nothing had changed, despite what happened. It hit me hard.
I’d declared, “We could’ve been killed!”
Daddy denied it. “Nah. Sally Sue’s built to withstand a lot
more than that.”
Making and hauling shine was the most important thing
to him. More important than Mama, Merritt, and certainly
me. I fought to maintain an outward calm that hid my inner
turmoil as I came to a realization that his take on all this was as twisted and coiled as the back roads of Shine Mountain.
Aubrey said, “We heard about Merritt. Mama baked him
molasses cookies.”
I said, “He’ll like that. Thankee, kindly.”
My hand shook as I reached for the basket she handed me,
but she didn’t act like she noticed. The smell was intoxicating, and I carried it into the kitchen and left it on the table. I returned to the living room, where the lack of cleaning over the past few days was obvious. The stack of newspapers Daddy Ever_9781496717023_2p_all_r1.indd 62
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had left on his chair, his overflowing ashtray, the layer of dust everywhere, was enough to make me want to hide. Then
there was Aubrey herself, like a bouquet of flowers in the
middle of a trash pile. I belonged because I was as dumpy as a basket of unwashed laundry.
I was sure she must have spent the past hour alone brushing
her hair to get it to that high shine. Her spotless dungarees, rolled at the hems, her penny loafers without a speck of dirt, her perfectly white blouse, offset my appearance, but that was nothing new. What was different was the glittering excitement in her eyes. She sat on the couch and then hopped up
and walked to the door to look out. She came back, sat again, and tapped her fingers on her knee. Her restlessness made
me uptight, and I began gathering my thoughts about what
I’d say, embarrassed at the truth, trying to figure out what sounded best. Nothing, really.
Her tone polite, she asked, “How’d he get hurt?”
I fiddled with the collar of my robe. “It was just one of
them things.”
She frowned, her perfectly tweezed eyebrows rose, and she
leaned forward. “You ain’t gonna tell me?”
I intentionally misinterpreted her question. “He broke his
arm in two places; one part of the bone was stuck out. It’s in a cast.”
Aubrey winced, and said, “Oh. That’s horrible. But how?”
“It wasn’t nothing really. You know how boys are.”
She leaned back, and said, “I reckon.”
I stared at my bare feet, trying to ignore how dirty and
miserable I’d felt since she arrived. She raised her chin with this odd, knowing look.
She said, “I know what really happened.”
Defensive, I said, “I don’t see how.”
“Y’all were running liquor.”
“Says who?”
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“Zeb.”
Aubrey’s brother. He was a big talker, always made stuff
up. She knew that better than I did. Shame and a swift anger took hold.
“No we weren’t neither. Besides, how would Zeb know?”
“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.”
I picked at a loose thread on my housecoat.
She went on, “Gosh, Jessie. If y’all ain’t careful, your daddy could end up in the penitentiary, or worse. Daddy says there’s too much of this going on in the county, and he’s praying hard for those who do it to turn away from it, to come to Jesus, ask his forgiveness.”
My dander rose. “Running liquor ain’t got a darn thing to
do with it, and Zeb wasn’t there, so what does he know?”
I wished I’d not answered the door.
She changed the subject and said, “When you gonna come
back to school?”
Still annoyed, my answer was sharp. “I don’t know.”
She said, “Have you tried what I mentioned?”
I lied about that too. “Nope.”
“Daddy says clarity comes from suffering.”
If that were true, I ought to know about as much as God
himself. She stretched her arms overhead like she was reach-
ing for the sun, and smiled. It was out of place, considering my attitude, and our conversation.
She brought her arms down, hugged herself, and said, “I
got something to tell you. You know Willie Murry?”
It was a dumb question. Of course I knew Willie Murry,
and she knew it too.
She waved her hand, and said, “I know what you and your
family think of his family. But listen, he’s been to the house a few times, and he’s been real nice to me. Ain’t you ever noticed how handsome he is?”
The words came fast because she was excited, but I’d heard
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enough over the years to know anything a Murry said or did,
no matter what others might think, couldn’t be trusted. Not
one bit.
“When did he start coming over?”
She said, “Him and Zeb, they’ve been in the same grade
all along, but never really talked until this year. They’ve got some classes together, so I guess they’re friends now.”
“I think you’ve got’em all wrong, Jessie.”
“You can have your opinions, I reckon.”
She played with a button on her blouse, then said, “Willie
said y’all tried to run them off the road.”
Growing angrier, I said, “I thought it was Zeb who told
you?”
My head felt like Uncle Virgil’s must when he’d had too
much to drink. Like it was about to pop. It was just like a
Murry to turn it around. Fitting. Bunch of liars, they were
that.
“Well. I overheard Willie telling Zeb.”
“And you believe him? That says a lot.”
She jumped up and said, “Well, fine, I guess I’ll go since
you’re so cranky. I’ll see you at school?”
I shrugged.
“Jessie?”
“Yeah?”
“Is there anything you need?”
“What do you mean?”
“You look . . . like maybe you could use some help.”
“I’m fine.”
She stood by the door and then focused on scratching at a
peeled spot on the woodwork.
She said, “Our church gets stuff, donations like clothes. I
could bring you some.”
Mortified, I said, “No!”
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“Why not? It ain’t but a dress, maybe a skirt or two; all of it looks brand-new. I’ve noticed you always wearing the same old stuff. Ain’t your daddy giving you money for such?”
“He’s tried.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I ain’t taking none of that shine money to buy
nothing.”
Aubrey said, “Daddy would say that’s commendable, but
you got to have something decent to wear.”
I clutched at my shabby housecoat, pulling it tight again.
“If you want me to bring them, I will. It would all fit; I’m sure of it.”
I couldn’t stand the thought of being one of the Whitakers’
charity cases, but Aubrey could be like one of them little old Feist dogs, tenacious and stubborn to a fault. It would at least keep the school from sending home any more notes about my
attire.
I gave in, and said, “Okay, fine.”
Aubrey looked pleased I’d accepted her offer, self-satisfied, like she’d taken in a starving cat.
“I’ll bring everything tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
She left, almost skipping to her car. She waved, but I didn’t return the gesture. Aubrey had every reason to be cheerful
and happy. Her life appeared very different from mine, up-
right and proper. I didn’t bother watching her leave. I went to Merritt’s room, curious if he’d heard anything we’d talked about, but he was asleep. I went into the kitchen where the
basket of cookies sat innocently. No, no, no. Don’t undo what you’ve done. I made myself go to my room and sat on the bed.
I was tired, and convinced young as I was, I ought not to feel so old.
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Chapter 7
I was watching an episode of The Untouchables when an idea I’d had before pushed through, distracting me so much that
even though the show wasn’t over, I turned the TV off and
went to my room. The moon was bright and cast shadows of
my lamp and books, gray shapes imprinted on the walls. I got into bed and began a deep consideration of what I’d thought
of many times before, usually only when I was spitting mad.
I’d never had the nerve to take it seriously. Maybe I was now because of what we’d been through, what had happened to
Merritt. Fear could sometimes overtake everything. If Daddy
wouldn’t make a change, maybe I could.
Next morning I could hear him stirring his first cup of
coffee, his spoon hitting the sides, the clinking noise soothing. The thought of going back to school didn’t set well, but after remembering what I planned to do, I got up with a bit
more enthusiasm and went to the bathroom. I washed my
face, brushed my teeth, even had the gall to look at the mirror and study my reflection. I suffered a momentary shift of my good mood when I stepped on the scale. I stared at the
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number, stepped off and back on. How could it be? I was up
by two pounds. Despite all of my precautions. I looked at the toilet, could already taste the acidic burn rising in the back of my throat.
There was no way around it. Resolute, I dropped to my
knees and tried not to think too hard. Be quick, I told myself.
Be quick and you’re done. I put a finger down my throat, but my body, trained, experienced, reacted. The immediate relief was mixed with revulsion. I did it again. Again, to be sure. Afterward, I brushed my teeth once more. I kept my face averted
from the mirror this time as I left the bathroom.
Back in my room I stood before my closet, glad I’d agreed
to Aubrey’s offer. I pulled out a dress, hurrying to cover myself. I tugged the material down, but it didn’t feel right. Annoyed, I hauled it off over my head, and began to flip through other choices, a couple other dresses; all of them I’d worn
for a long while. I felt as bloated as the belly of a pregnant cow and anything restricting set me on edge. Discarded items ended up on the floor, but I didn’t care. Finally, I resorted to my favorite skirt, the one piece of clothing I found bearable.
I pulled on a blouse that would do, and a pair of oxfords. My shoes fit, at least.
Daddy was in the bathroom, and I paused by the door.
Had I remembered to flush the toilet after ridding myself of all I could? I couldn’t remember. In the kitchen I had some
coffee, and eyed the cookies on the table. I picked them up
and went to Merritt’s room where he was propped against his
headboard, bored and restless. The fact he perked up at my
presence said how bad he hated his confinement.
“Aubrey brought these for you yesterday. Molasses cookies
her mom baked.”
I set them on his nightstand.
He said, “You going to school?”
“Yes.”
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Daddy came out of the bathroom and into Merritt’s room
too.
Merritt said, “When can I go back to school?”
Daddy said, “I guess it’d be all right in a couple days or so.”
Resigned, Merritt reached over, got a cookie, and began
eating. I stared as he chewed until Daddy nudged me.
“You need to go to Big Warrior tonight, see how far along
it is. Virgil and Oral got to make a run near to Charlotte, and I’ll be going to Blood Creek.”
I said nothing and he went down the hall. It was time for
me to go too, and to Merritt I said, “See you later.”
I got my books, went outside, and walked down the drive
to wait for the bus. When it came, I climbed on, but Aubrey
wasn’t in her seat. Disappointed, knowing I was going to have to either stand, or pray someone would take pity on me, I
searched their faces, one by one. They stared out the win-
dows, ignoring me, even Oral. I paused by Pauline Doyle’s
side. She sat alone, her books in the space beside her. She
hunched herself up against
the window, but not before she put her hand over the seat as if silently telling me she was holding the spot for someone. She’d been my only chance.
Resigned, I braced myself to accommodate the sway of the
bus as it went around the curves, and accelerated downhill.
The bus driver kept looking in the mirror at me while shak-
ing his head. If he stopped and demanded somebody give me a
seat, I’d be even more humiliated. Furtive glances were tossed my way, heads dipped, hands placed over mouths, whispers,
and secretive laughter; I could hear it all. I clenched the metal bar, held my books tight to my chest, as if they could somehow shield me. They made it clear I was ugly, hideous even.
I wished I’d stayed home. The bus made several stops, and
others found a seat without any problem. I tried to ignore
that, but I couldn’t. I said to myself it didn’t matter. They didn’t matter.
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When we pulled up to the school, I hurried to the front,
and as soon as the door opened, I took off down the steps,
walking fast, my cheeks burning hot, my legs shaking. It
wasn’t the first time I’d had such an experience on the bus, but each time I did I came away knowing I was an outsider, a loner—except for Aubrey, and I was hateful to her yesterday. I would make up for it today, be nice. She was in the gravel lot where students who drove parked, Willie and Zeb by her side.
So, that’s where she’d been. My previous thought about being nice disappeared, and was replaced with irritation. I hurried toward the building, eager to be swallowed up by the mass of bodies milling about in the hallways.
“Jessie, wait!”
I wanted to run, but I was too self-conscious of how I
moved through my world, seeing myself the way everyone
else did. It was bad enough having to take Phys Ed three days a week, plus having to put on the regulated gym clothes the
school handed out. They never fit neither.
Mrs. McCall, the gym teacher, was always yelling, “Come
on, Sasser! Come on! You got it in you; I know it!”
I moved with an urgent purpose to get out of Aubrey’s sight, to vanish. She yelled loud enough it drew attention from the other students, evident in their looks aimed at me and her.
“Jessie, stop!”
I did, but I didn’t turn around. She ran up beside me, panting.
“Didn’t you hear me?”