Chapter 15 Cuzn Booee, Treacle, Cuzn Luke and Moonshine
Cuzn Booee roared with laughter as Treacle was sent sprawling face first into a muddy wallow by Banjo, a black, seven hundred and fifty pound Mulefoot hog. It was hot and Banjo was in a foul hog temper, so as Treacle climbed the fence into his field, he gouged the dry dirt with his snout, scuffed his front hooves slowly and deliberately into the dust, all the while watching. When Treacle bent down to fill the feed trays Banjo put his head down and charged.
Happy with his efforts and knowing he was being watched by his harem of sows, Banjo snorted loudly, raised his head and trotted off across the field, his black hairy tail wagging ferociously.
Despite being upended by the mischievous Banjo, Treacle managed to keep hold of the beer can that he held in his right hand, however the bag of feed that was held under his left arm was sent twirling through the air, scattering its contents across the surface of the wallow like a hail storm bombarding the spread eagled Treacle. Within moments Treacle disappeared from sight as he was engulfed by the herd of hungry Mulefoot sows that oinked, snorted and squealed around him in a stampede of hogs hooves, wagging tails and grunting snouts.
This was too much for Cuzn Booee and he lay back on the flatbed of his pickup in hysterics, he was crying with laughter, as tears rolled down his cheeks he banged the side of the pickup with his fist and howled. After a short while his spasm of laughter subsided and he lay there panting. As he looked up into the clear sky taking quick deep breaths and still chuckling to himself a mud splattered face loomed into his view completely obscuring the sun.
“Yuh showa was cawt with yuh pants down.”
Howled Booee.
“What in gods name ize youze lay-uffin at?… Doesn’t he know Auh was givin them thar feed? ….just fillin up they-a troff.”
“Auh recon he thinks that youze the purdiest thing he’s been seenin in a long while an was just innerducing himself.”
Continued Booee.
Treacle’s indignance ignited Booee’s laughter for the second time and he wriggled and thrashed around on his back in squeals of delight. The more he laughed the more Treacle got annoyed until finally Treacle kicked out in anger at the side of the pickup, misjudging this outbursts of rage his foot missed the side panelling with his shin hitting the rusty wheel arch with a bone numbing thud. He squealed in pain as his shin opened up as if under a surgeon’s knife and he crumpled to the ground moaning.
“Booee, Booee Auhh is broke muh lig.”
He called up from the shade of the pickup, gingerly he inspected the tear in the right leg of his dungarees. A lump had quickly formed and was dissected by a jagged gash of about three inches in length. Blood flowed quite freely down his shin, up and over his tattered leather boots and started to pool by his foot.
“Booee, Booee izzen youze gonna help?”
He called up again before taking the last gulp of warm beer from the can he still clutched tightly in his hand.
Cuzn Booee sat up and swung his legs over the tailgate and jumped to the ground, Treacle moaned and clutched his shin as Booee sat down in the dust besides him.
“Ebrey time youze fly off the handle youze goes an hurts yousel Treacle….., youze need to calm yosel, Auh was just carrin on with yuh……., yuh can’t be laid up, don’t forged weeze a fixin to help Cuzn Luke with his shine later on.”
As he jumped back to his feet Cuzn Booee slapped Treacle affectionately on his left thigh.
“Knows what?…. Auh will cure youze an it won’t be in no hose-pital.”
With that he trotted off across the dusty yard to his shack coming back a minute or so later with a bottle of clear liquid in one hand and a six pack of beers in the other.
“Treacle Auh gone an god youze yuh med-ee-sin.”
He said as he sat back down again in the dust with his moaning friend. With a crack and fizz of bubbles he opened one of the cold beers and held it out to Treacle. Without looking up and if guided by an alcohol seeking radar Treacle’s left hand reached over and took the can, he placed it to his lips, tipped his head back and guzzled. Finishing the can in one go he placed it down by his side and sighed,
“That showa is bedder.”
As Treacle wiped the back of his hand across his mouth to catch the last dribbles of beer, Cuzn Booee busied himself attending to the cut on Treacle’s shin. He rolled up the torn denim leg of the dungarees and reached for the bottle of clear liquid, he pulled the cork out with his teeth, took a swig then offered it to Treacle who accepted readily. Treacle took three large gulps letting out a sigh of satisfaction as he handed it back.
“This is gonna hurt Treacle.”
Cuzn Booee said just before pouring the clear liquid liberally over the wound. Treacle flinched momentarily but kept silent. Cuzn Booee then proceeded to wind a length of cloth that he had fetched from the cab of his pickup around the wound. He pulled it tight and tied a knot while watching for any signs of seeping blood, there was a slight dappling of blood to be seen across the line of the wound but the free flow of red had all but stopped.
They Sat together in the dusty shade of the pickup silently passing the bottle of shine between them for a good ten minutes before Cuzn Booee said.
” Auh is minded to finish feedin them thar hogs an then come back an get youze up an movin, Coz if youze stay thar with that bottle o’Shine yah gonna be about as useful as a pig on the moon.”
With that said he jumped to his feet and left Treacle sitting there with his bottle. As soon as all of the hogs had been fed Cuzn Booee returned to find Treacle sitting in the shade of the pickup cab smoking a fat roll up cigarette, blowing a great plume of smoke out through the window he nursed another beer can in his left hand.
“Auh’s all ready to get goin over tuh Cuzn Luke’s with yuh.”
He called out as Cuzn Booee approached, then aimed a laser guided gob of spittle at a lizard that was sunning itself on the ground, hitting it dead center and sending it darting of into the safety of the long grass. He chuckled to himself at his direct hit, took the last pull on his cigarette and flicked the butt in the direction of the escaping reptile.
“Day-um Treacle are youze tryin to start a fire, it’s so dry the dogs is as bribing the trees.” Exclaimed Cuzn Booee as he jumped in besides Treacle.
“Nuh Auh’s just doin me some tar-gitt practice.”
Treacle replied in a slightly slurred voice.
Cuzn Booee started the engine which sparked into life with a roar. Treacle had helped him drop a seven point four litre, four hundred and fifty horse powered engine into his old 1976 Dodge pickup a couple of months earlier. With each rev of the engine the exhaust burbled and the cab rocked on its suspension and with the wheels spinning in the dry dirt they disappeared along the track in a cloud of dust and hail of stone.
“Yee-haw………..Well butter my butt an call me a biscuit, this is as quick as a duck on a June bug.”
Shouted Cuzn Booee over the throbbing engine, Treacle nodded and smiled an knowing smile, finished his beer and slung the empty can out of the window.
Like a mini tornado they sped along the tracks, sliding round corners and fish tailing up the straights, Cuzn Booee switched on the radio and tapped his fingers on the wheel in time to the music, Treacle bounced and Bobbed in his seat slurping beer from his fourth can of the day. As soon as they turned onto the highway they slowed to a normal speed and made their way to their rendezvous.
Treacle was a kind, gentle man of forty years but was known as a man whose ‘engine was running, but had nobody driving’ or as others might say, was ‘as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine’. This was either an unfortunate consequence of the extremely small gene pool of his family and it’s intertwined relationships’ over the centuries or the copious amounts of alcohol that he drank daily and had done since being a boy of twelve. Shine was his favorite, and then whiskey; he drank beer like it was lemonade and would rarely be seen without a beer can in one hand and a cigarette hanging from his lips. His eyes had a permanent glazed appearance, and if he had been heavily on the shine would be bloodshot and watery.
He lived on his own these days about five miles off of the LA10 highway as it went east from Ville Platte and was Cuzn Luk’e partner in the shine business; he was also a very adept mechanic who had a large workshop and garage on his holding of land surrounded by an assortment of old cars and pickups. His home was nothing to speak of, it was an old dilapidated trailer with a wooden shack as an extension and an assortment of small outbuildings that linked his workshop to his home which all sat on a cleared fielded of some four acres. It was surrounded by half a mile or so of shortleaf Pine woodlands. It was secluded back water accessed by a narrow windy track directly off of the LA 10 Highway. Its entrance was partially overgrown so unless you knew it was there you would pass it by without noticing. This was just how Treacle liked it, out of sight and out of mind.
Cuzn Booee was of Gypsy or Romani descent, whose family immigrated to the United States in 1864 after the abolition of Roma slavery in the Balkans. He was forty five years of age and lived with his wife Adele and three children, he had two daughters Lala and Mirela and a son called Bo which he named after himself and his father and his father’s father. It was a fact that every first born male of his family had been called Bo since they settled in the United States.
He lived almost halfway between Cuzn Luke and Treacle just north east of the northern shore of Lake Cavelier. His land just edged into the outskirts of the Cypress swamp and open grasslands then rose up into open fields dotted with the occasional pine or small copse of Red Oaks. He owned sixty eight acres that he used mainly for rearing his hogs but always had a couple of acres of rice on the lower wetter land, a couple of acres of corn, and couple of maize. His home was an old wooden farmstead that was in reasonable condition, surrounded on two sides with his hog fields and pens, on one side with a tin roofed wooden barn and of the forth was a large wooden shed that was filled with an Aladdin’s cave or reclaimed materials. About half a mile further along the track he had a huge old wooden barn and more pig pens. Cuzn Booee was a bit of a magpie and could never resist picking up someone else’s cast off’s or junk and bring it home. He would normally find a use for it, or it would sit stored for years before being brought back out into the light of day to be re-used or sold.
Cuzn Booee kept about four hundred hogs on his land; the two breeds that he kept and reared annually for meat, to be sold on as weiner piglets to other farmers to fatten and slaughter were much loved by him. They were the Mulefoot and Red Wattle Hog. He had three Mulefoot boars with forty breeding sows, Banjo being the dominant male of his herd and two Red Wattle boars with 20 breeding sows. The small herd of Mulefoot hogs was extremely rare as they were all purebred and the herd made up approximately fifteen percent of the total Mulefoot population in the United States. Because of this they were extremely valuable and the sale of piglets and meat from the pigs he reared to maturity always fetched a handsome sum when he sold them.
The meat produced by the Mulefoot was a superior tasting red with a freckled marbling and considered by many as the tastiest among the American hog breeds. Cuzn Booee would always keep back at least one quarter of the slaughtered carcasses to cure himself and he produced some of the best known premium hams for one hundred miles.
The Red Wattle hogs were even rarer than the Mulefoot and he kept the only herd in Lousiannia. Its defining characteristics were its red colored hair and fleshy jowls.At two years of age they weighed in at six to eight hundred pounds with his two stud boars weighing in at fourteen and fifteen hundred pounds and measured four feet in height and eight feet in length. Despite the size that this breed grew to, they produced a lean but tender carcass. The meat was dark red, juicy with a slight marbling throughout, and again as with the Mulefoot had an excellent flavor, some folk said that it resembled beef in both its taste and texture.
Cuzn Booee would often be seen by his family happily talking away to his hogs, scratching their backs, behind their ears or showing them things, sometimes he would play games with them like pet dogs. He had three favorites, Banjo being his favorite and probably best friend, TC the largest and gentlest of the Red Wattle Stud boars and Lightning his newest Red Wattle Stud Boar.
Banjo got his name as a piglet; one day when Cuzn Booee was sat leaning up against the side of one of his hog pens playing his Banjo one of the new piglets came darting out from the pen and danced up and down in front of him, seemingly in time with the music. Every time Cuzn Booee stopped playing the little piglet scurried back into its pen and when he started playing again it would come back out squealing and dancing away.
TC was named after Truman Capote the American Literary giant. As a boy Cuzn Booee’s mother would read the works of Truman Capote to him to get him off to sleep. She had been the first in her family to read and write and was keen that her children got as good an education from her as she could provide. Not a usual bedtime story for a young boy but being an avid reader his mother read what ever was to hand. Her husband Bo had brought home the complete works of Truman Capote from a house clearance that he had been paid to do and this is what she would read to herself and her son.
Lightning was named by Booee’s daughter Lala; she had been fascinated by the way he raced around the fields as a young weiner piglet at such an incredible speed. She always said that if you turned your back for a second he would be gone in a flash. As a mature hog he still charged about like a mad thing, outrunning any of the other hogs easily, powering his massive bulk of fourteen hundred pounds effortlessly and with an incredible amount of grace.
Cuzn Luke was patiently waiting by the road side as Cuzn Booee and Treacle came into view in his rear view mirror, they slowed, flashed their lights and allowed Cuzn Luke to pull onto the highway in front of them. His pickup was loaded up with sacks of corn and sugar, with four propane cylinders and two burners covered over with an old tarpaulin.
They followed for about five miles before turning off from the highway in convoy onto another country track. This wound through the surrounding fields for another couple of miles before entering a densely wooded area that rose above the surrounding country. They were going to Cuzn Luke’s new still site that he had been preparing for the last couple of days. It was sited at one of a handful of secret fresh water springs that was fed by the underlying aquifer system. Its water was pure, filtered by the alluvial sands and tasted good, giving a unique taste to their shine. The water quality was an important ingredient to making a smooth, good tasting shine and Cuzn Luke guarded the location of these fresh water sources jealously. He only allowed Cuzn Booee and Treacle to help him cook up his shine; they had done this together for years and trusted each other without question.
They slowed to a crawl as they neared the site, pulling off of the track. Once both vehicles were off the track they both stopped and Cuzn Luke got out and walked to where they had exited the track, he scuffed his boots back and forth hiding the tracks their tyres had made, then returned to his pickup. They both continued to drive very slowly for another quarter of a mile in through the thick woodland foliage until under its camouflage netting the still came into site.
The still consisted of two eight hundred gallon tubs into which the mash mixture of corn, yeast and sugar was put to ferment, it was heated for a while to start the fermentation process then the heat was removed and it was left for the yeast to do its work, turning he sugar to alcohol. Once this had happened over the course of four to five days it was now called sour mash and the tub could be heated up to one hundred and seventy five degrees. This was achieved by using industrial propane cylinders attached to two rows of burners which were placed under the tubs. On the top of each tub was a copper cap with a copper pipe coming out of it that connected the tub to the thumper. The thumper removed any impurities from the heated vapours that came from the tub once it had reached its desired heat. From the thumper the vapours then went via another copper pipe into the worm which was a two foot diameter coil of copper piping that stood some three feet high and was placed in a large barrel of cold water. As the vapour passed through the worm in the cold water barrel the vapours condensed into the much treasure moonshine. It then ran through a series of charcoal filters until it was captured in a proofing barrel.
The whole still setup was concealed in amongst dense trees growth and even denser lower ground vegetation and covered from the air and all sides with camouflage netting. Cuzn Luke always set out a perimeter of tripwires at about one hundred meters that would trigger a flare to alert them if someone was coming and from what direction. In all of the years that they had worked in the shine business they had never been caught.It was always hard nerve racking work for everyone and they were always on edge when they were at the still site because they had to be alert to the constant threat of being caught red handed by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives or ATF for short. The local police were not any threat as many of them were both friends and customers themselves, but as Cuzn Luke said.
“You never know when they’re survelin yuh so keep on yuh guard at all times.”
The other time when they were on edge and particularly jumpy was when they were making deliveries so they had made it a rule to only deal with known people, drive on all the back woods tracks and dirt roads as much as they could and never tell anyone where any of their still sites were or when they intended to cook up a batch or do a delivery run.
Each eight hundred gallon tub provided between ninety to one hunnerd and twenty gallons of shine and would be watered down to the individual requirements of their customers which was typically eighty five to ninety five percent proof and would sell for approximately five thousand dollars for every one hundred and twenty gallon batch. The initial run of a still would typically produce shine of between one hundred and one hundred and twenty percent proof and Cuzn Luke, Treacle and Cuzn Booee would put aside a sizeable amount of this for themselves and close friends, they never touched the lesser proof product.
Chapter 16 News
Mary Jo came screaming up her steps onto the veranda and leaped onto the seat besides Billy-Bob.
“We got ourn note- if-icashun about the fam Billy-Bob. Auh just fetched it from the box.”
She screamed in joy holding out a clean white A4 sized envelope for Billy-Bob to inspect.
Billy-Bob sat up in his chair, put his beer can down on the table and took the letter that was being offered in an outstretched hand. He held it close to his face and inspected it, both front and back before handing it back to the excited Mary-Jo.
“Well don’t just sit there all smilin, open it up.”
Mary-Jo leant back in her chair and ripped the top of the envelope open, she took out two sheets of paper and sat quietly, silently reading them to herself.
“Go on then, what duz it say?”
Came an enquiring voice from besides her. Her brow creased and the smile dropped away from her lips, she slowly read the letter again before exclaiming,
“I’ll tell yuh now, but don’t youze go a gettin yuh gussie up an all Biily-Bob as it ain’t good news, we bin ree-jected by that ignert guburmant man Clarke.”
Billy-Bob leapt to his feet sending the table and his pile of beer cans flying, they clattered onto the wooden deck of the porch as his wooden tabled spiraled its way through the air, and down the porch steps before crashing into the parched earth with a splintering crack of wood. His one open can gurgled its contents out in a steam of bubbling yellow liquid as the contents of his ashtray settled like an early winter’s snow.
“I knows muh rights an Auh ain’t gonna stand for this, Auh’m gonna whoop his ass, that good for nothin dumb-fuck……………, Auh’ll go an slap that Clarke man so hard his clothes’ll be outta style….. Yuh just wait’n see.”
He ranted as he stormed up and down kicking out at all and everything in his path.
” We filled that application form out just fine….”
He continued,
“Auh feel like I’ve been chewed up and spat out………., why that Clarke is as dumb as a bag full’o hammers…, that dim shit clever tawkin fuck pig….”
“Will yuh just shut the fuck up, Billy-Bob…., it isn’t gonna do uz no good youze shoutin an hollerin an kickin all of ourne blongins to pieces………., just sit yousel down an Auh’ll go get youze a cold beer an we will think what we needs to be doin…..”
Billy-Bob stopped in his tracks mid rant; he picked up his chair and sat down with a grunt, Mary-Jo disappeared into their shack to fetch a beer and give Billy-Bob a minute or two to calm down. She returned beer in hand to find Billy-Bob in deep conversation with Jean.
“Ah merde allors.”
He exclaimed waving the letter in his right hand before slapping it down on the table,
“I’ll est ca cullion, le grande galette, Clarke ize just un petit peeswank.”
He continued lambasting Mr. Clarke and the officials who made the decision with any and all insults that came to mind.
Mary-Jo sat down with them and sighed.
“Auh bleeve sumpin funny’s goin on about this application an Auh shure is not gonna let that damn Clarke put a stob to ourne dreams.
“Cho,cho….., maMary.., fuh sure, fuh true yuh sure have le joie de vivre.”
Jean said with a broad smile running across his face, he had a great respect for Mary-Jo and her attitude to life, she had educated herself to a certain degree, had a fiery spirit and was the driving force in Billy-Bobs family, she didn’t suffer fools and had an intelligent head on her shoulders. He also admired her slightly laid back attitude to life that allowed her to drift along at her own speed whilst directing Billy-Bob in his money making ventures, whilst she maintained a good house, rearing three healthy, strong and polite boys and generally being a spark of light in the gloom of Malase.
Jean rose to his feet and left the two of them to discuss what to do next, he had offered Billy-Bob a few words of consolation while they talked, but he knew, Mary-Jo would figure out what to do and get it done, for now it was best to let Billy-Bob calm down and Mary-Jo to plan her next move.
“A tout l’heure.”
Called Jean as he descended their stairs.
“Auh’ll see yuh soon.”
Replied Billy-Bob as he tapped his beer can with his middle finger in frustration. For the next ten minutes the two of them sat in silence, Billy-Bob quietly fuming, whilst Mary-Jo re-read the letter, once, then twice, before thinking of what to do next . She was sure that she was not going to let their dreams die, the letter had just stated that they had not provided enough information and that the land upon which they wanted to build their new farm had certain unstated protections associated with it. She came to two conclusions, they either tried again themselves and did their best, or rather she did her best to research what more information was needed and tried to understand the detail of the land protections that they needed to abide by. Or get professional help and that meant another visit to Mr. Gant and money, the last of which was not readily available. Cuzn Luke was the answer she finally came up with, they would go and visit him with their rejection letter and ask for his help, he always seemed to know what to do and always gave good sound advice. She got up from her seat and went back into the house to fetch her cell phone and grab another beer for Billy-Bob, she returned with the beer in one hand and the phone in the other.
“Billy-Bob we is needin Cuzn Luke’s help again, yuh call him an arrange fuh uz to go over an see him and tell him we need more help or ad-vice.”
She handed him the phone, placed the can of beer down besides him and left him to make the call. She was glad that the boys had not been home to hear the bad news as they were so excited about the new alligator farm and she did not want them disappointed.
Especially Ethan who had seemed to loose his direction in life when the family had to close their last farm, He used to enjoy working with his pa evening and weekends but not long after the farm had been closed down he became quite withdrawn and his schooling became intermittent before stopping completely, he now lazed around going to bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping in until early afternoon. He would then wander around Malase, the surrounding country or Lokchapi causing mischief, getting bored and frustrated with life. He had not understood why the land owner had not allowed his pa to renew his lease and had become even more annoyed with the world knowing that the land they use to farm was not being used and their sheds and pens were all starting to fall into disrepair.
Joshua just wanted his pa to be happy again as he had noticed a level of sadness creep into their family since the old farm closed. The sadness emanated mainly from his pa, ending up with his ma and pa having rows, normally about money, whatever the cause or reason all he knew was when they had their alligator farm the world seemed a happier place.
For Zachary however the closing of the farm and all the consequences this event had on his family had little effect upon him. He was so wrapped up in his world of books, science, school and study that whatever was going on at home seemed to go right over his head. It was either a pleasant ignorant bliss that he bathed in or his intelligent mind, even at such a young age had concluded that there was nothing that he could do to help the situation or change things for his ma and pa, so it wasn’t worth any of his time both mentally or emotionally.
“Mary-Jo we goin to see Cuzn Luke to-morruh in the afternoon.”
Billy-Bob called over his shoulder, before setting the cell phone down and opening another beer.
“That’s good, just dont tell them bois, any how, Auh thinks that you can’t never could, so we just gonna do ourne best.”
Mary-Jo called in reply out of the depths of the shack. Mary-Jo was busying herself with reading through all of their initial application paperwork and guiding notes and making a list of questions to ask Cuzn Luke. The heat of the day was reaching its peak and even penetrated into the shaded depths of Malase, the air just felt hot and heavy and sweat ran down her brow and dripped from the end of her nose onto the notepad as she wrote.
Billy-Bob remained seated on his porch quietly dripping, as the beer that he drank seemed to be almost immediately seeping from his pores, soaking the clothes that he sat in.
Samuel pulled up outside the store and got out of his pickup slowly and deliberately, his work and the heat had sapped almost all of his energy, his arms were heavy, his back ached and his throat was dry. The tedium of the day digging had also numbed his brain into an almost catatonic state. He walked into the store and headed straight for the drinks chiller for a six pack of Abita Amber larger, a smooth, malty lager with a rich amber color. Samuel liked this beer after a hard day’s work, as it was of a good strength, had a pleasant taste and quenched a workers thirst. He would always drink it as cold as possible; he would retrieve a can just before it turned to ice in his freezer and liberate its sparkling amber liquid into his waiting beer glass.
This was an impulse buy, Samuel always had beers and soft drinks available at home, but his exertions of the afternoon had been driven by fleeting thoughts of cold refreshing lager and as the afternoon had dragged on and his body sweated and began to ache his thoughts became a craving that drove him onwards. It was his reward for the efforts of the day; he would go home, collapse into his chair in the shade of his veranda with an ice cold beer, a cigarette and hopefully a cooling breeze coming up from theLake.
As he was leaving the store with his beers and a couple of bags of potato chips he stopped and scanned the notice board. There was the usual, a few cars for sale, someone was having a weekend garage sale, a dog had gone missing, general items for sale, a couple of part time jobs and finally his eye was caught by the words Zoning application number 354……, he scan read down the notice, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson……. Alligator farming……… Lokchapi bayou …., sheds and pens and appropriate employee accommodation…, before skipping to the bottom of the notice to look for the decision. His eyes fell upon the wording he was looking for in the very last sentence.
‘Therefore considering all of the information received this application is as of today rejected.’
Samuel smiled to himself and walked back to his pickup with a certain spring in his step.
SJ would be happy with the news and they could stop worrying about the impact the farm would have had on their lives. As he slammed his door and started the engine he congratulated himself for bothering to write a letter objecting to the application and concluded that it had made a difference, little did he know that its rejection was nothing to do with the application itself, its supporting information or any letters of objection particularly his. Its rejection lay within the corruption of Mr. Clarke and some recent information received from Aaron Gant and his influence within the zoning decision making process.
By the time Samuel and driven the short distance from the store home and been greeted by Pooh and Moo his mood was quite elevated, the aches of the day had subsided and his energy levels were raised. He bounded up the steps, across the veranda and in through the kitchen door, making SJ jump in the process. She had finished work at a reasonable time that afternoon and was preparing their evening meal.
“Oh my god Samuel you made me jump.”
She exclaimed as she turned to see a smiling Samuel come bouncing into the kitchen.
“Good news SJ, the alligator farm zoning application has been refused, I just read the notice down at the store.”
He set down his work book and six pack of beers on the kitchen table, sat down and unlaced his gaitors and boots.
“Well thank god for that.”
SJ replied while she continued preparing their meal.
”It just goes to show that your efforts were worth while…. Do you know why it was refused?
“Well from what I read from the notice the application fell foul of a couple of the local zoning regulations and the conservation status of the land helped support the decision to refuse, all in all a good day.”
Samuel placed four of his beers in the refrigerator, one in the freezer and sat back down at the table. He opened his one remaining can and thirstily emptied its contents in one long guzzle.
Thirst quenched he let out a long sigh of satisfaction and jumped to his feet.
”Just going for a quick shower,”
He said cheerily as he left SJ to finish preparing their evening meal.
A loud banging at his door woke Cuzn Luke with a start, his mind was heavy and his thoughts fogged courtesy of a night spent sampling his latest batches of Shine. He had just finished bottling two hundred and forty gallons, the output from his two, eight hundred gallons tubs of mash that had been cooking at full capacity all of the previous night. He always sampled his product before selling it to anyone on his trusted long list of contacts within Evangeline and the surrounding parishes. The cooking had gone well and as usual he had produced a very high quality, smooth clear shine that would fetch good money.
He had produced two differing strength batches, the first un-watered batch came out at one hundred and twenty percent proof and was to be split into two then sold to two of his oldest customers. The second batch was again split into two and watered down to eighty five percent proof as requested by two other customers. As each batch was filtered, proofed and bottled Treacle and Cuzn Booee had loaded the plastic gallon containers of shine onto Cuzn Booee’s pickup in the agreed batches of sixty gallons at a time. Nervously they had gone to meet each customer individually at pre arranged locations. This was always the most nerve racking time as nobody ever knew if the men from the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms had been tipped off and were waiting to pounce. It had never happened to any of the three before but as Cuzn Luke always said.
“It‘s sure’s good to be as scared as a cat in a dog pound.”
Because it kept them all on their toes, alert to any dangers, careful in what they did or said and who they sold to. Cuzn Luke remained at the still while they had delivered their product, continually filtering, proofing and bottling until just as the faintest flickers of dawn where probing through the trees they finished. It was a good six days work, anxious, tiring but financially rewarding. The two batches fetched ten thousand dollars in total, from which Cuzn Luke and Treacle took four thousand dollars apiece and Cuzn Booee took two thousand dollars.
The banging continued and seemed to get louder as Cuzn Luke struggled to his feet.
“Alright god damn it, yuh gonna give me a heart attack, I’m’a comin…. I’m’a comin.”
“Cuzn Luke its me Billy-Bob, c’mon open up we bin knocking for about ten minutes an shoutin an hollerin….., iz youze drunk?”
“Auh is as sober as a mormon preacher on Sunday.”
He shouted back as he made his way to the door. He turned the key and Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo came bursting in with the bright afternoon sun blazing behind them. Cuzn Luke held his hand up to shield his eyes and squinted.
“Well shut that door damm it, that there sun iz a blindin me.”
He said to Billy-Bob.
“An any hows what in gods name is all that bangin an hollarin about, Ahh is tarred an bin aimin to sleep all day.”
Mary-Jo could see that Cuzn Luke did’nt seem at his best and thought that he looked ‘as confused as a cow on astro-turf’.
“Just sit down Cuzn Luke, we is here as we ranged yesterday.”
”She said in a quiet soothing voice.
“Auh has come to ask if you can do me Billy-Bob a favor?”
She enquired as Cuzn Luke sat down in a worn armchair, she took up a seat besides Billy-Bob on an equally worn but completely different colour sofa that was a collage of stains and discolouration.
“An what’s this favour youze is wantin? Something to do with yourne applicaton I gather from Billy-Bob’s call.”
Mary-Jo handed Cuzn Luke their rejection letter and waited while he read it.
“That just don’t add up.”
He said when he had finished. His head started to pound as his hangover fought its way to the fore. It was a typical shine hangover, one that he was accustomed to every now and again when he overdid the amount of shine that he drank. In normal quantities his shine gave little if no after effect at all but considering the proof and quantity that he had consumed across the previous nights work it was of no surprise to him that his head banged, his eyes ached and his stomach felt like he had a rat chewing away inside. He scratched his chin as he thought through how he could help, his normally agile mind ticked over slowly, Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo waited patiently until after a minute or so of silence Cuzn Luke spoke.
“Auh tells yuh what Auh is a thinkin.”
He said slowly and deliberately.
“If Auh can raise the money fuh y’all yuh can get yousel help from that Mr. Gant, if youze two keeps tryin it will be like herding cats for y’all. Mr. Gant will be mighty spensive but he will be sure able tuh get yourne ci-tifurcate for y’all.”
“Is yuh sure yuh can get the money?”
Billy-Bob asked
“Sure can.”
Came the reply.
“But Auh is wantin a shay-uh in yourne bisness, all drawn up legal like with papers an all.”
Mary-Jo squealed with delight, leaped up and gave Cuzn Luke a big hug.
“Auh would like a ten percent shay-uh, if that’s what youze wanna do?”
He continued as Mary-Jo sat back down besides Billy-Bob.
“Ten percent is just fine if it means we gets ourne farm.”
Billy-Bob replied reaching across to shake Cuzn Luke’s’ hand. They shook hands firmly and Mary-Jo jumped back up and gave Cuzn Luke another hug and a kiss.
“Sounds like we is pardners now so it’s time to seal the deal with a little bit o’magic.”
Cuzn Luke said as he reached down besides his chair and brought up a clear bottle of his latest batch of shine.
“Mary-Jo go out back an get three glasses, we need to toast this here’n now.”
Mary-Jo did as Cuzn Luke asked and went out to the back of the shack to were there was a kitchen of sorts, it had a couple of cupboards, none that matched, a wooden workbench with tins and various packets of food piled up on it and an old tin tub as a sink with a single faucet over it. She searched high and low before finally finding a stack of six shot glasses tucked away behind a box of shotgun cartridges and a can of engine oil in the corner of one of the mis-matching cupboards.
She took out three and returned to the front room of the shack where the two new partners were chatting away, generally putting the world to rights.
“Here bois.”
She said as she handed them both a glass before sitting back down on the stained sofa. Cuzn Luke poured out three full glasses of the clear liquid and put the cork back firmly in his bottle. He stood up and held out his glass.
“Here’s to Hell! May muh stay there be as much fun as muh way there!”
He said with a laugh and wink at Mary-Jo, they all clinked their glasses together and downed the clear liquid in one go.
“Whoo wee wootycrackers that sure is some fine o’l’shine, ol’friend o’mine.”
Declared Billy- Bob with a deep exhalation of breath.
“God damnit that is goooode.”
Mary-Jo added.
“Well gimme over yuh glasses an Auh’ll fill em right back up.”
Cuzn Luke said with a broad smile creasing across his face. He reached down for his bottle once again and so the afternoons drinking began in earnest.
The only other bit of business that was agreed between the three of them was what would happen if the next application failed again. Cuzn Luke was one hundred percent sure in his own mind that once Mr. Gant was involved with sufficient payments made then all of the necessary palms would be greased and the cogs of government would turn in their favor providing a positive outcome for Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo. He told them however that as he had always liked a bet now and again and was a bit of a risk taker that if the outcome was not what they all wanted and the next application was rejected then the debt would be cancelled. Bill-Bob and Mary Jo thought that he was taking a huge risk with an awful lot of money, but Cuzn Luke was onto a sure thing and he knew it, it was a one hundred percent certainty that they would now get their farm once Mr. Gant was instructed to act on their behalf.
Over the course of the afternoon Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo had tried to find out how Cuzn Luke could get his hands on a large amount of cash so easily. They had not asked him directly but had asked a leading question here or there but to no avail. Cuzn Luke had more than a few different financial sources to tap. Shine was one source, but his latest earnings from the night before were already earmarked for something else so he had to draw off some money from somewhere else. He knew exactly where it would come from but that he kept to himself as he always did.
By five O’clock Mary-Jo was out for the count and Billy Bob was not far off that himself. Cuzn Luke was now coming into his own and appeared bullet proof, the more he drank the livelier he became, he had got up on more than a couple of occasions in the course of the afternoon and danced around the front room, jigging and stomping while Mary-Jo and Billy-Bob had clapped and whooped in encouragement. He had had them both in stitches, laughing at his stories, jokes and impersonations and they in turn had tried their best to keep pace but now the afternoon was reaching its close.
“Time youze be goin home boi….., yuh bois at home’ll be wundrin were youze is at……Just be careful with yuh drivin an don’t get yuhsel in a wreck or the five-o’ll be on yourne ass an yuh’ll end up in Angola.”
Cuzn Luke said to Billy-Bob with a smile.
Angolawas the state penitentiary and it had a fearsome reputation and was known as the ’Alcatrazof the South’ or ‘The Farm’.
Billy-Bob rose slowly up onto his two unsteady legs, stretched and bent down to wake Mary-Jo. His attempts had little success and after the third she was not stirring at all. So on the fourth attempt with the help of Cuzn Luke he hauled her dead weight carcass up and slung her over his shoulder. He staggered to the door, thanked Cuzn Luke for his help and the afternoon’s refreshments and made off out of the gloom of the shack into the glaring late afternoon sun and a wall of heat.
He negotiated the porch with relative ease before attempting the descent of the stairs. He steadied himself at the top before launching out, best foot forward into the abyss. It was only four dry wooden steps with a hand rail on each side that he need to get down but the third step was one step to far and he pitched forwards landing with a dull thud in a cloud of dust. Mary-Jo remained unconscious despite the fall and lay underneath Billy-Bob with an inane grin that stretched from ear to ear planted firmly on her face. She had giggled momentarily as Billy-Bob had struggled to his feet and tried to pull her limp body up but had quickly disappeared back into the alcoholic induced semi-coma in which dreams bobbed and whirled across her mind. On the third time of trying Mary-Jo was once again back on Billy-Bob’s shoulder and he lurched across the front yard to his pickup. If anyone had have been watching it would have been a comical sight. Billy-Bob weaved from side to side, one foot forwards, a couple to the side, a couple backwards before lurching forwards for a few more steps before repeating the same routine over again. Finally he reached the pickup, propped Mary-Jo up against the side panel while he opened her door and slid her unceremoniously onto the bench seat. He closed her door then using the hood as a prop made his way around to his door before opening it and climbing in. Getting his key into the ignition was his next challenge as it had either grown in size or become bent, as no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get it into the ignition.
He opened his door and fell out, winding himself in the process, he lay there for a moment before heaving himself up and staggering off in search of the cold water faucet and trough at the back of Cuzn Luke’s shack. Despite a couple of falls along the way he finally accomplished his mission and sank his head deep into the cool depths of the trough. He raised his head back out and waited for the water to break through his alcoholic haze, but nothing, his vision crossed and doubled and his head span. For the second time he plunged his head down with a splash and held it there underwater for as long as he could before once again raising it up as his lungs gasped for air. This time his eyes focused on the wooden cladding in front of him and his head steadied itself. He combed his hair back from his face with his hands and made off back towards his pickup. His return journey to his pickup was completed without any falls, he was still staggering severely but at least he stayed on his feet. He climbed back into his cab and the keys went straight home into the ignition on his first attempt. He revved the engine, before putting it into drive and heading off for home. He knew he was in no state to drive and should have stayed the night at Cuzn Luke’s but he knew all of the back roads and dirt tracks for miles around and was relatively confident that he could get almost all of the way back to Malase without having to drive on any of the local highways’ or major roads. If his planning was right he would only need to cross one single lane highway and two roads to get him within a mile of home.
I hope you enjoy your reading. It is available on Kindle and a free copy can be borrowed for download at https://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Blue-Heron-Howard-Moore-ebook/dp/B00KK6BWLK..
Howard Moore
