Professor next Door

by Summer Cooper

  As the days moved on, Zebadiah noticed Mary would disappear for long periods. She obviously wasn’t going to town and there was very little in the woods that might draw her attention, but when he searched through the house he would never find her, or Joshua for that matter. Everything in the house would be perfect. Clean, tidy, just perfect. So he could see no reason for her to be anywhere. He would begin calling her name and in an instant she would appear, usually somewhere behind him. She would be smiling and calm and always asked what the problem was, but it was unnerving. He would shrug it off. She was a woman. Women were confusing at the best of times he would assure himself.

  Today though, Zebadiah really was going to climb the track to the old moonshine still. He convinced Mary and even asked her to join him. She declined with a look of suspicion and concern but allowed him to go and seek out the old still.

  The walk up the winding path was now strange. It had been so long since he’d been up here it had become almost unfamiliar territory. But as he emerged into the tiny clearing, Zebadiah heaved a gentle sigh. Here his Pa had spent hours brewing some of the best moonshine in the state and they had all benefited from the profits. The only people that didn’t appreciate good moonshine were of course the revenue men. They knew just as well as most folk in this area, that Pa Rasnake was brewing the best shine around. Sadly for them he was always a step ahead. They never caught him moving it. They never caught him selling it and more importantly they never found his still. It wasn’t that they hadn’t tried of course. They had. Just that Pa was a better moonshiner than they were revenue men. Of course it helped that most of the local police were Pa’s customers too, Zebadiah remembered.

  As Zebadiah wandered around, he noted the large copper tank and the corkscrew piping leading to it. Hidden in the undergrowth was the old supply of barrels and mason jars of different sizes. Zebadiah smiled as he thought back to when he would stand at the end of the pipe waiting for the first drops of the precious liquid to fall from the pipe. His father would be standing beside him, making sure his young son didn’t go gulping down that first jar full.

  “Nope, we always toss that one son. In that barrel over there. Might make a fine fuel for the truck but won’t do much good to a man’s insides and I won’t be seeing too many customers selling ‘em that stuff.”

  Zebadiah smiled as he picked his way through the old equipment and thinking back to his father using it all effortlessly out here in this little hideaway. He taught Zebadiah all he knew, both about the brewing of the shine and the secret to staying in business.

  “This place is nobody’s business but ours son. Remember that. The only folk that need to know about this place is me and now you. Anybody ever asks, you know nothing about this place and even less about shine okay?” His father had said sternly.

  The young Zebadiah had nodded and agreed. Feeling honored and special to be entrusted with a secret so great.

  The equipment was here and with a bit of a clean-up and a bit of effort, Zebadiah was pretty sure he could get this old still back up and running again. He hadn’t any plans to go back to town any time soon and had no real idea how he would find customers but it was good to know he could at least enjoy the stuff for himself. A few sips of good shine would always remind him of his Pa. Worth it just for that anyhow, whether he sold any or not he thought. He settled himself down on an old barrel and enjoyed the afternoon sunshine as it speckled through the tree canopy. Some days, life just got better and the rest of the world was of no matter he thought. All he needed was here. His beautiful wife Mary. His son Joshua. A fine little homestead and soon a working moonshine still. Yep, life was indeed good for Zebadiah.

  Chapter 9

  The old truck rattled into Charles Station and pulled up at the small diner. Cherokee Joe eased himself out of the passenger seat and leaned back inside to grab his small pack.

  “I’m mighty grateful for the ride my friend. It is much appreciated.” Cherokee Joe said.

  “’Bout best I can do for ya Joe. Good luck finding your friend. I’ll be on my way. Hopefully be eating my wife’s deer stew before sundown son. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather come the rest of the trip? Don’t seem to be much in this one horse town to hang around for. That’s if it’s the place you’re actually looking for anyways.” The driver of the truck said to Cherokee Joe.

  “No this will do just fine. His address is on the letters I’m bringing him. Get yourself off and enjoy the stew. Thank you again.” Cherokee Joe said as he slammed the truck door closed.

  The driver gave a wave and drove off through the town and off into the distance.

  Cherokee Joe opened the door to the grocery store, stepped in and selected himself a stool at the small table.

  “Not seen you around these parts friend. What can I get you?” The woman said as she scurried from behind the counter clutching a pad.

  “Just a coffee please. And some information if you have it?” Cherokee Joe replied.

  “Information eh? Well you sure don’t look like a cop, but then we don’t get big city cops round here anyways. I’ll get your coffee.” The woman replied as she made her way back around the counter to the coffee pot.

  “So what information would that be exactly?” She asked as she poured the coffee.

  “I’m not a cop Ma’am. I’m just looking for a friend. Got something of his I wanted to return to him. Zebadiah Rasnake. He’s supposed to live around these parts I believe.” Cherokee Joe said.

  The woman placed the coffee in front of Cherokee Joe and sat down opposite him.

  “Oh Zebadiah indeed. And how would you be knowing Zebadiah?” She asked.

  “We served together Ma’am. In Vietnam. Zebadiah got sent home before me due to his injuries. I have some letters of his.” Cherokee Joe replied.

  “Well. I think whatever happened to that boy done messed with his head. He was talking all kinds of nonsense when I last saw him. I heard from the Preacher too.” She said leaning across the table to Joe and lowering her voice to a whisper. “The poor boy thinks he’s living with his wife and child up at the old Rasnake place. Well I tell you. That old place is a burned down ruin and his wife and baby are six feet under. So is his mother. Now we done told him all of that but he won’t hear a word of it. So we guess he’s living up in the old ruin all by his lonesome.” She said. “Real sad. He was such a nice boy before he left for the war you know? Always had clean hands when he came in here. Well, as I said, he’s probably living in the ruins up there. Unless of course he’s found a shack or something on his papa’s moonshine still. Nobody knows where that is though. It’s up there somewhere well hid. Nobody here knows where old Rasnake made his hooch and he sure wasn’t going to tell no one. Made the best damn shine in the whole state did his Pa. Don’t know a man in this town that hasn’t spent a night with his head in the water trough after drinking some of Rasnake’s ‘shine.”

  Cherokee Joe smiled and took the woman’s hand across the table. She looked confused at his forward gesture but relaxed her hand in his. Feeling almost swept up in this large man’s magnetic gaze.

  “Yes Ma’am. That is the Zebadiah Rasnake I am looking for. Would you be kind enough to tell me where to find him? Directions to the burned down house perhaps? I’m sure if he’s up there I’ll find him.” Cherokee Joe said.

  The woman giggled and blushed as she removed her hand and stood up.

  “Why yes you Indians can do all that tracking stuff, right? Well, I don’t know if you can do any good for the boy but I won’t keep you from trying. Go back out of town and follow the left fork that leads up the side of the mountain. Was never much of a road, just an old cart-track. Just keep going ‘til you see the burned down house. There’s only one up there. Can’t help you with the still of course. As I said. Nobody knows where old Rasnake had that hidden.”

  Cherokee Joe thanked the woman and dropped some change on the table for the coffee. He stepped out of the shop and made his way out of the town in search of the track to th
e house. Looking around the little town he could understand why Zebadiah had always talked about his life up in the hills. The place was desolate and miserable. A couple of run down stores and a gas station, and of course the little grocery store he’d just left. Nope, Zebadiah was no city boy, but this was no city either. He found the track soon enough and began a slow, leisurely walk up to the house. He enjoyed the peace and could understand how Zebadiah might prefer a place up here than down in the town. The undergrowth was growing heavy by the side of the track and Cherokee Joe was happy to find a handful of berries on the way. He stopped to pick a handful before noticing he was being watched. He turned slowly to face the copperhead snake on the other side of the track. He lowered himself to the ground and began eating the berries one at a time.

  “These are good berries.” Cherokee Joe said to the snake. “I wasn’t expecting to find them so soon in the year. I’d share them but I don’t think you’d be too keen my friend.”

  The snake gazed blankly at him, its head slowly following the movement of his hand as Joe fed the berries into his mouth.

  “I guess you are enjoying the peace here too now the people are gone. They did attract a good supply of food for you though right? Plenty of rats and mice where people make their mess.” Cherokee Joe said.

  “I have work to do my friend. As I’m sure you will when you’ve enjoyed the sun some more. Relax.”

  The snake coiled itself calmly without taking its eyes of the big Indian and then slowly uncoiled and spread itself out in the warm sunlight. Cherokee Joe smiled as he got back to his feet and continued up the track.

  He made good progress up the hill and could see the house not far beyond. As the woman in the store had said, it was a burned out ruin. Not a place anyone could live in, except perhaps a former Nam vet with a serious head injury. Or something else. Perhaps something else was closer to the truth of all this he thought as he moved closer.

  Zebadiah had picked up a couple of large mason jars from the still and some lengths of copper piping. He really didn’t have any idea what he was going to do with them but he felt it attached him to the still. Gave him a reason to return and get it running again. Or maybe Mary could use them as pickle jars for the coming winter. They were too good to leave laying around up there anyway he’d thought as he staggered back with them, pleased with his haul.

  He was almost at the gate to the house when he saw the large, tall figure silhouetted on the path, heading towards the house. He lowered the jars and pipe to the ground and stared at the oncoming visitor.

  “Joe? Joe? Cherokee Joe! Is that really you?” Zebadiah yelled as he broke into an almost trot down the road.

  Cherokee Joe gave a big wave with both arms in the air. “Hey Razzer my friend! Good to see you again!” He shouted back. He was looking all the time at the ruins of the house and the approaching Zebadiah as they met. They hugged, shook hands and stood back to look at each other.

  “Good to see you got back in one piece Joe. Was worried for you man. Every day there is a day you might lose a piece of something important.” Zebadiah said.

  “Well it looks like this country living has got you back up and running too Razzer. Got yourself a still I see?” Cherokee Joe said pointing to the jars and the copper tubing.

  “Oh hell, well I will have soon enough. Got to get all the pieces back together ya know. Don’t you go telling nobody though? Top secret stuff is this.” Zebadiah chuckled. “Now you got to come inside and meet my wife and little Joshua. I told them all about you.”

  Mary had appeared at the other side of the gate. She was smiling but looking curious at the tall Indian. Cherokee Joe gazed at her and slid the battered baseball cap from his long dark hair.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you Mary.” Cherokee Joe said.

  “You need to come inside Joe. We don’t stand on ceremony here. Come and meet my son.” Zebadiah said.

  “Yes Joe, please do come in.” said Mary without moving from the spot she was standing in and looking directly in his eyes almost as a challenge. “Do come in to our wonderful home.”

  “I certainly will Ma’am. But, could you give me a moment with your husband? I have come a long way and this is sort of military type stuff you know? I’m sure you understand. Then I would love to come and see your son and your fine house.” Cherokee Joe said.

  “Very well.” Mary said. She turned and retreated to the house with a glare at Zebadiah.

  Cherokee Joe put an arm round Zebadiah’s shoulder and turned him towards the creek.

  “Let’s go down there for a while. I need to talk to you for a moment and give you something. Then we’ll go in okay?” He said.

  Zebadiah looked confused as he followed Cherokee Joe down to the edge of the creek.

  “So what’s this all about Joe? What you got for me?” Zebadiah asked.

  “Sit awhile Razzer. I’m going to have a smoke. Here are the letters you left in Nam. I thought you might like them back.” Cherokee Joe said.

  “Oh right, hey thanks! I appreciate that man. That’s a long damn way to bring a guy his mail though. You could have just posted them. Is there a problem?” Zebadiah asked.

  “I could have posted them sure. But I wanted to come see my old buddy. We went through a lot together. Wanted to see you were doing okay. You know Razzer. Things aren’t always as they seem yeah? Sometimes the world just ain’t nothing like we think it is. Nothing at all like we think it is.” Joe replied.

  “Well no. We been stood in the pits of hell over there man. Watched women and kids turned to ashes in front of our eyes. Watched our own men blown to pieces with bits of body flying over our heads. No way folk here would believe that sort of shit could ever happen in real life. Not here anyhow. No point in telling these folk anything like that. They all think it’s just for TV.” Zebadiah replied.

  “And now you found you some kind of paradise away from all that my friend. A beautiful, young wife, a son and a sweet house to keep them in. Almost like a dream come true for you I reckon.” Cherokee Joe replied. He had lit a pipe he had already filled and was drawing on it deeply. Thick gray smoke drifted lazily around his head.

  "Well yeah. What you saying Joe? You don’t think I should have a bit of paradise after the shit I went through? The injuries I picked up?” Zebadiah replied.

  Cherokee Joe turned and smiled at Zebadiah. He took a long deep drag on the pipe and as he exhaled he took a hip flask from his bag. He took off the top and took a long drink before taking another long draw on the pipe.

  “How are your injuries? I saw what happened to you that day. You look fitter than any of the guys in town that never saw more than an Audie Murphy war movie. How are you feeling now?” Joe asked.

  “I never felt better. I’ve been to town a couple of times and that was a bit too much but Mary here keeps me fed and takes good care of me. I feel real good here man. Yeah sometimes I feel like it never happened at all you know?” Zebadiah replied.

  “Sure. That’s good. How about we go meet your wife and kid, Razzer. She’ll be getting worried about us down here.” Cherokee Joe said as he stood up.

  They walked together in silence back to the house. Mary was standing back at the gate and Zebadiah noticed the look of shock on her face as she saw them approach.

  “Nothing to be alarmed about baby. Nobody died. Joe here just brought me the letters I dropped when I got shot. He needed a smoke of his pipe too and I guess he thought it might upset you. It didn’t smell too bad to be honest.” Zebadiah said.

  Mary smiled and moved into the house.

  “No I’m not worried at all darling. Please come in Joe. Make yourself at home.”

  They all went into the kitchen and sat at the table.

  “Coffee? Beer? I think Zebadiah still has some of his moonshine left if he hasn’t been sneaking in and drank it all.” Mary said.

  “A beer will be just fine, thank you Mary.” Joe replied.

  Mary busied herself around the kitchen as Zebadiah and Joe remi
nisced about their time back in Vietnam. Mary brought them both a beer and then proceeded to put together supper.

  “I’m guessing you can stay for supper Joe? I don’t think you have a choice really. There’s nowhere else around here you can stay the night is there?” Mary said.

  “Yes, I would love to stay for supper.” Cherokee Joe replied sipping on the cold beer.

  “Why don’t you go upstairs and bring Joshua down to see Joe, Zebadiah. He might need changing but I’m sure you’ll manage.” Mary said.

  Zebadiah smiled and stood up. “Of course! You’ve yet to meet Razzer Junior. I won’t be long. Get Joe another beer please darling and I’ll go get Joshua.”

  As Mary watched Zebadiah go through the kitchen door and heard him climb the stairs she passed a new beer to Joe.

  “What’s going on Joe? You can see me. You can see this house. Who are you?” Mary asked.

  “Relax Mary, I’m a friend. You need help and more importantly, your husband needs the truth.” Joe replied.

  “He will know the truth. He just isn’t ready yet. I plan on telling him when the time is right. Just not yet. Don’t you go messing this up Cherokee Joe or whoever you are. This is none of your business!” Mary snapped. “Who the hell are you?!”

  “I’m actually called 'John Longfeathers' at home. Cherokee obviously, so the Army being the way it is, I got tagged with 'Cherokee Joe'. My father was a medicine man as was his father and his father before him. I learned things from him but the time of the medicine man has past. He did teach me how to walk with the dead though. Seemed I was a natural for that as a child. And you Mary of course, are dead."

  “But you can see the house, everything. How can that be?” Mary asked.