Muscadine Wine by Milton Davis

Author:Milton Davis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Milton Davis
Published: 2022-08-25T00:00:00+00:00

The Big One

“Come on boy. We goin’ fishing.”

Uncle Frank patted Cecil’s head as he walked across the front porch to the screen door. Cecil jumped to his feet, following his uncle as he swayed into the kitchen. Mama was hovering over the stove, scooping the last bit of grits out the old pot while daddy sat at the dinette reading the Columbus Ledger. Mama turned and looked at her wayward brother; daddy folded the newspaper just enough to see him.

“What you doing here so early, Franky?” mama asked.

“Goin’ fishing,” Franky replied. “Taking Cecil with me if you let me.”

Uncle Franky pulled out a chair from the dinette and almost fell trying to sit. Daddy folded his paper and set it down.

“You been drinking?” he asked.

“Naw man!” Uncle Frank replied. “Just a little unstable this morning. You know how it is when you get my age. I think it’s a sinus condition.”

“Since when did they start calling Jack Daniel’s a sinus condition?” Daddy said.

Mama sat a cup of coffee in front of Uncle Frank.

“Just in case your sinuses get worse,” she said.

“I appreciate you, Jennette,” said Uncle Frank.

Cecil laughed as he peered through the screen door. Uncle Frank was always doing something funny. Mama didn’t think he was funny, but daddy would sit around with him, laughing until he cried.

Uncle Frank looked at him and winked.

“You got any bait?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Cecil said.

“That’s alright,” Uncle Frank said. “We’ll get some on the way.”

“Where y’all going? Mount Vernon? Eagle Phoenix Mill?”

“Nope. We’re going to the Church Lake.”

Daddy sucked his teeth. “Ain’t no fish in that lake.”

“What you mean is that you can’t catch no fish in that lake,” Uncle Frank replied. “You just ain’t holding your mouth right.”

“How long y’all gonna be?” Mama asked.

“Now you know I don’t come back until I caught something.”

“They’ll be back next week,” Daddy said.

“Go to hell, Sam,” Uncle Frank said. Cecil covered his mouth as he laughed.

“Don’t be cussing around the boy,” mama said.

“’Scuse me young man,” Uncle Frank said with a wink. Cecil winked back. He’d heard Uncle Frank say a lot worse when he lost a fish.

Uncle Frank finished his coffee then stood.

“We better get going,” he said. “Them fish getting bored waiting for us.

Mama came to Cecil, firmly clasping his cheeks between her warm hands. Cecil tried to pull away, but mama’s grip was mama’s grip. She kissed his forehead.

“You have fun, baby,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied as he wiped his forehead.

“You know that boy is too old for you to be kissing him,” Uncle Frank said.

“You mind your business, Franky,” Mama said. “I’ll be smacking that forehead as long as I’m alive.”

Uncle Frank shook his head. “Come on, boy. Let’s catch some fish.”

Cecil followed Uncle Frank to his ’55 Chevy pickup. The boy opened the door. A pile of potato chip bags was on the passenger side. Cecil swept them onto the floor. He climbed in and slammed the door just like Uncle Frank taught him. After three tries the truck rumbled to life and they were on their way.

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