The Moonshiner's Daughter by Donna Everhart

Author:Donna Everhart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2019-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Uncle Virgil said Oral had been struck dumb, but after seeing Mrs. Brewer’s personal supply of shine, I fit that description.

She said, “Been making it my entire life.”

You just never could tell about people. She dusted off a few lids and eventually selected four, held them up to the light, and then handed them to me to carry. She motioned me back outside, slammed the door shut, and locked it again.

She said, “Put’em in there,” opening the trunk to her car, and pointing to an old wooden box.

I did as she asked, and she tugged an old quilt over the top, reminding me of Daddy hauling shine to his customers.

She said, “Amos Cox in Traphill gets some, and the Woo-tens down to Cuddle Creek. They say it ain’t nothing better’n a little of that pick-me-up to set them right in no time.” She said, “Maybe you ought to take you a sip now and then, get that internal furnace of yern stoked.”

I drew up, and said, “Never.”

She spit, and while I wasn’t willing to participate in a discussion on it, she got to telling me how she had her a little still set back in the woods behind her house, how she liked to go out there and tend to it, like it was a hobby. Mama’s image came out of nowhere, like a fiery comet streaking across the sky. Death leaves a stain on you, a dent in your soul. That’s how I felt about Mama’s presence, like she’d stained my insides, left a dent in my soul. What might Mrs. Brewer think if I told her Mama had been burned alive, and how I was almost 100 percent sure my very own daddy was at fault because he loved making shine a little too much? I wanted to point to Merritt’s missing an arm, Uncle Virgil and Aunt Juanita’s burnt home, and Oral, with that ugly M scorched into the tender white skin of his bony birdlike chest. Our still being ruined was the only good thing that had resulted from any of it, but bad always outweighed good by a far cry. She felt very different about it than me. She saw shine as a simple tonic for certain ailments. She didn’t hold to the idea it was nothing but trouble, and caused a mountain of grief. It hadn’t cost her like it had us.

She said, “I reckon I need to get you on home so you can quit listening to an old woman’s prattling.”

She drove just as slow as when we’d started out, occasionally stopping so she could check on areas where she had her some ginseng growing, or “sang” root as she called it. She said she’d dig some up and what she didn’t dole out to those in need would be sold in town come fall. By the time we got back to the house it was late afternoon, and I hadn’t spoken a word since I’d rejected her idea of me sipping on shine.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.