Moonshine, Coal, and Hope

by Richard Allen Evans

  “Vick, I need some help. Doby Buchanan and Emmett Brummett are dead,” he said.

  “Oh dear Lord,” Victoria said as close to an outright oath as John had ever heard from her lips.

  “Avalene has the flu too and needs to be in bed herself. There’s a ten-year old girl taking care of her whole family out at the Buchanan farm and I have a partial list of people who have been in contact with the Brummett’s here at the store – people that might be infected. I have to find these people and check them out,” he said.

  The wheels on Victoria’s mind worked overtime.

  “How about Trish? I’ll send a deputy to bring her out there. Adam and Charlene can watch Ginny,” she said.

  John thought it over. He was reluctant.

  “Okay, I have to have help. If she’s willing, send her here. And call Durham Wolfe. I need him too,” he said.

  “I’ll get them there as soon as possible,” Victoria said.

  “It was nearly thirty minutes before the duly elected county coroner and owner of Wolfe’s Funeral Home, Durham Wolfe showed up.

  A portly man who stood six feet, four inches, Wolfe had short cropped dark hair that was slicked down with hair tonic and parted on the right side. He had a bushy mustache and eyebrows to match. Wolfe wore a black suit and gray overcoat. He walked into the store and made eye contact with John, who gestured with his head toward the back room. The deputy who accompanied him followed behind.

  In a couple of minutes he emerged.

  “Forgive me Mrs. Brummett. I don’t mean to intrude on your time of grief but is there a funeral home you would prefer we take Mr. Brummett?” Wolfe asked.

  She shook her head.

  “I...I don’t know. Your funeral home I guess,” she sobbed.

  Wolfe bowed his head somberly.

  “John, I understand I’m also needed for another matter,” he said.

  John nodded.

  “Yeah, Doby Buchanan. I left him at his place and came here,” he said.

  “We’ll pick up Mr. Brummett first and go over there,” Wolfe said.

  Trish arrived as Wolfe and the deputy were taking the body out of the store on a gurney.

  “Avalene, listen to me. Trish is going to help you to the police car. The deputy will take you to Doc Carter’s office. We’ll figure where you’ll need to stay later. I’ve got to go check on the folks on this list,” John said.

  “I just pray you’re not too late for them like you was with Emmett,” she said bitterly as Trish helped her to her feet.

  Trish looked at John as if to ask what she was talking about but he just shook his head for her not to respond. All the way to the car, Avalene kept repeating, “That drunk let my husband die. He’ll pay, I’ll see to it.”

  When she came back in, Trish looked at John.

  “You should have defended yourself,” she said quietly.

  “She’s a sick and grieving woman. She lashed out at the only target she could. What could I say that would help her or me?” He asked.

  “I guess I see your point,” Trish said.

  “Let me lock up. I’m going to drop you by the Buchanans. There’s a little girl there that needs some help,” John said.

  “What do I need to do?” She asked.

  “Cook, keep her company, take food and medicine to sick kids and their parents. Just try to keep the situation under control until a neighbor or friend can help out. I’ll get back by later to pick you up,” he said.

  With that, they left and he dropped Trish off at the Buchanan farm before starting on his way. John had a list of ten families. Five showed symptoms of or were already suffering from the illness. Thankfully, he found no other dead bodies or grieving families.

  It was nearly six o’clock before John swung back by the Buchanan farm. Exhausted, he went inside to check on the family again.

  To his surprise, he found Jennifer sitting at the kitchen table dressed in a robe. She still looked weak but her color was better than earlier in the day. Trish stood at the stove stirring a pot of what smelled like chicken soup while Sissy and Carolyn Sue stood on each side of her watching her cook.

  “How’s Doug and the kids?” John asked.

  “They’re asleep. I’m feeling a lot better,” Jennifer said.

  “Good. But you need to get some more rest. You’re a long way from being fully recovered,” John said.

  “I don’t know what we have done if it hadn’t been for Sissy and Trish today,” Jennifer said.

  “Truth be told, Sissy was on top of everything when I got here. I just helped her,” Trish said.

  The little girl beamed with pride.

  “Looks like you’ve raised a fine young lady. You have a bright future if you ever want to be a nurse,” John said.

  “I want to be a doctor like you,” Sissy said as Trish smiled to herself.

  “When you’re ready for college and medical school, you let me know,” he said.

  “I will Doc,” she said with a bright smile.

  John couldn’t help but return the smile.

  “It looks like you’re in capable hands. Remember what I said about your medication and rest,” he said to Jennifer. “Sissy, make sure she does.”

  “I’ll do it,” she answered.

  “Trish, if you’re ready, we’ll head back to the office and see if we can help Cat treat the people still there,” John said.

  ***

  While John was overwhelmed in Crystal Springs, Bob spent the morning in the newsroom waiting for Ed to show up. He typed a couple of blurbs concerning public hearings to be held by the state house finance committee. They were dull and dry but there was nothing he could do to make them more interesting.

  The only thing that could draw a crowd for such a public hearing would be the promise of a potential fistfight, which had happened on more than one occasion — it was still Kentucky. The two upcoming hearings held no such potential as they were basically budget housekeeping rules that both major parties embraced.

  “Mr. Elkins! Good to see you,” Evan said as he hurried out of his office. The exclamation drew Bob’s attention in that direction.

  “Please Evan, I told you to call me Ed,” he said as he took off his snap-brim fedora and shook the hand of the managing editor.

  “I think the man you’re looking for is sitting right over there,” Evan gestured toward Bob.

  “So he is. I need a place to speak privately. Is there somewhere available?” Ed asked.

  Evan smiled slightly.

  “Conference room. Two doors down that hall on the right,” he said.

  “I’ll drop in on you for a chat in bit,” Ed said as he twirled his hat in his hands.

  Bob made his way over.

  “Looks like you’re getting around a little better,” Ed said.

  Bob nodded to the cane.

  “Still need this dadburned thing but it beats crutches,” he said.

  “Got a few minutes to spare a desperate man?” Ed asked with a grin.

  “Well, since you own the paper and you’re my boss and all — not to mention you set up this meeting, I reckon so,” Bob said as he started the slow walk to the conference room.

  “How’s Lucy?” Bob asked.

  “She’s fine. Mae’s with her. Hill came up with me. Him and couple of the boys are parking the car and hanging out downstairs,” Ed said.

  Bob opened the door.

  “I’d like to see him before y’all head back. I’m pretty sure Cotton would too,” he said as he found a chair and tossed a reporter’s notebook on the cherry table.

  “I’ll make sure he gets up here if he’s not already out there when we’re finished,” Ed said as he pulled out a chair and turned it so he could face Bob.

  “So tell me about this magic Democrat who’s gonna win the House seat in the Republican Ninth,” Bob said as he opened his notebook.

  Ed grinned.

  “Gladly. The district needs somebody who cares about the working man — be it a miner or a fa
rmer and it needs somebody the working man can relate to,” he said.

  Bob nodded never looking up as he scribbled.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “The man I have in mind is somebody that’s built a name fighting for those kind of people — a man of good reputation and honor; educated and hard working. And if he’ll run, the people will line up to vote for him,” Ed said.

  Bob looked up from the notebook.

  “Wait a minute. You’ve not asked him yet?” He asked.

  Ed shook his head.

  “But I will soon,” he said.

  “Until he decides to run we don’t have a story Ed,” Bob said as he tossed his pen on top of the notebook. “Do you plan on letting me in on who this great hero of the masses is? Do I know him?”

  “You’re familiar with him,” Ed said. “And I can guarantee every paper I own will back him all the way.”

  “Okay, who is he?” Bob asked.

  “It’s you Bob,” Ed said.

  Bob looked astonished.

  “What do you mean, ‘me’?” He asked.

  “I mean you. You’re a hero down there. You have to know that. You worked in the mines, you worked on farms, you went to college, played football, and became one of the celebrated reporters in the state — look at the awards you’ve won. People know your name and they trust you,” Ed said.

  Bob shook his head.

  “Have you lost your mind? I can’t run for Congress. I’m not a politician,” he said.

  “That’s why you need to run. People are sick of politicians. They want one of their own to represent them,” Ed maintained.

  “I don’t know the first thing about running a campaign and as for speeches, I can’t understand what I’m saying half the time,” Bob argued.

  Ed held his palms out like his was pushing.

  “You’ll do fine. I’ve already got somebody to organize everything. And I’m sure the state party will be more than happy to send somebody down to help out,” he said.

  “Ed, listen to yourself. I’m a reporter,” Bob said.

  “You listen to me. You’re smart. You have good ideas and you try to help people. That’s the way you’ve always been, even when you was just a kid mining coal. John used to talk about you all the time when we were in France. You can do this, I know you can,” Ed said.

  “But what about my job here at the paper?” Bob asked.

  “I’ll see that you get time off with pay and if things don’t work out, then it will be here waiting for you,” Ed said.

  “But if I run for office I can never cover politics again. It wouldn’t be ethical,” Bob said, as a light came on in his head. He wouldn’t have to cover politics again.

  “You’re the best man for this job,” Ed argued.

  “I don’t even live in the district,” Bob said.

  “You still own property in Evans County – part of your family’s farm, right?” Ed asked.

  “Yeah, but I don’t live there,” Bob said.

  “I have signed and notarized paperwork from the Evans County Clerk’s office that you and your wife registered to vote there before the last general election,” Ed said.

  “But we voted in Fayette County. How did? Nevermind, I don’t want to know,” Bob said as Ed grinned.

  “Like it or not, you’re a resident of Evans County. All you have to do to get on the ballot is sign some papers I brought with me. I had Dill Rennie get everything together. It’s all legal,” Ed said.

  Bob looked at him with a mix of awe and disgust.

  “Dill Rennie’s the biggest crook in Evans County,” he said.

  “He is, no arguments there. But he’s a smart man and a helluva lawyer,” Ed countered.

  “Ed...I just can’t do this without talking to Daisy. This will affect her too, especially with a baby on the way,” Bob said. “And I ain’t altogether sure it’s something I even want to do.”

  “Then talk to her. Go ahead. Take an early day and go home. See what she thinks and see if the two of you can decide,” Ed said.

  “You know, I was gonna ask for a raise before I found what this meeting was about,” Bob said.

  “Then I’ll make the decision easier for you. You’ll get what you’ll make as a congressman — that’s the salary I’ll pay you until you take office,” Ed said.

  Bob looked a bit bewildered.

  “Forgive me for being so blunt but what do you get out of this Ed?” He asked.

  Ed laughed.

  “Two things. One, I owe you for taking that bullet instead of me,” he said.

  “That was just me being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We both know that. There’s nothing heroic about it,” Bob said.

  “Maybe, but you still took a bullet meant for me and I’ll never forget it,” Ed said.

  “What’s the second thing?” Bob asked.

  “I want to burn the crooked Republicans in this state. As long as they hold an office they will be controlled by the Milners and I will always be looking over my shoulder,” Ed answered.

  “Well...I don’t think you’re wrong there,” Bob said as he pulled out a cigar.

  “With you in Congress I can least get a fair shake,” Ed said.

  Bob leaned back, struck a match, and lit his cigar. He blew out a puff of smoke.

  “Tell you what. Let me call Daisy and she can fix us some lunch. That way we can all talk,” he said.

  Ed smiled brightly.

  “Sounds good,” he said.

  Bob pushed himself up with the help of his cane, stepped over, and opened the door. He gestured for Ed to go first. As Ed walked out, he turned to Bob.

  “I need to stop in and talk to Evan for a couple of minutes just to be courteous if nothing else,” he said.

  “Have you mentioned any of this to him?” Bob asked.

  “Not yet but I’m sure he’ll agree with me when I tell him,” Ed said as walked at Bob’s side.

  “Oh, I’m sure he will. You just have a way with people,” Bob said.

  Ed laughed.

  “You call Daisy while I’m talking to Evan,” he said.

  “Might just be breakfast leftovers on such short notice,” Bob said.

  “That sounds real good but tell her whatever she fixes will be fine with me,” Ed said.

  “How about the boys?” Bob asked.

  “She ain’t gotta feed everybody,” Ed said.

  Bob laughed.

  “Don’t tell her that,” he said.

  Fifteen minutes later, Ed and Bob were on the elevator.

  “Say anything to Daisy about the purpose of our meeting?” Ed asked.

  “No, I figured I ought to do that face to face,” Bob answered as Ed nodded.

  The elevator doors opened and they stepped off to find Cotton and Hill standing in the lobby, chatting near the building entrance.

  “Where’s the kid and Rocky?” Ed asked.

  “Rocky’s standing outside watching the building and Willie’s guarding the car,” Hill answered as Ed shook hands with Cotton.

  “Good to see you,” Ed said.

  “Same here boss,” Cotton said with a crooked grin.

  “Want some lunch?” Bob asked.

  “Ain’t lunchtime yet,” Cotton said as he checked his watch.

  “Daisy’s breakfast lovers,” Ed said.

  Cotton looked at Bob.

  “I’ll ride with you,” he said.

  “Hill, ride with ‘em,” Ed said as Hill nodded.

  “You know I’m packing don’t you Ed?” Cotton asked.

  “Good. That’s extra security. Hill’s still riding with you two,” Ed said.

  As they traveled to the Fulton house, Ed’s car followed as Bob drove his car with Cotton riding shotgun and Hill in the backseat.

  “I reckon the Boss talked to you,” Hill said.

  “He did. I think he’s lost his mind,” Bob answered.

  Hill chuckled as Cotton gave Bob a questioning glance.

  “Give him an answer?”
Hill asked.

  “Several times but he didn’t like it. He wants me to talk it over with Daisy,” Bob said.

  “None of my business, but is he wanting you to take another job?” Cotton asked.

  “You could say that,” Hill said.

  Bob looked at him in the rearview.

  “I told him no and I’ll think Daisy will back me up,” he said.

  “What was the job? Who knows? If you don’t want it, I might like a crack at it,” Cotton said as Hill laughed.

  “What?” Cotton asked.

  “Maybe you ought to tell him about the job,” Hill said.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he would be a better man for the job but I don’t know that Ed wants to let everybody know just yet,” Bob said.

  “You’re probably right,” Hill agreed.

  “What’s the job? Is it Evan? Is he canning Evan? Did he catch him in something? Like skimming maybe?” Cotton asked.

  “For a photographer, you have a vivid imagination. You’re worse than a gossip columnist. Evan? Skimming? That’s just lunacy,” Bob said as Hill laughed.

  “Whaddya expect? You drop hints and don’t say anything. You’re starting to sound like a politician,” Cotton said as Hill guffawed loudly.

  Bob’s face turned red.

  “If you have to know Miss Hopper, Ed wants me to run for Congress in the ninth district,” he said.

  Cotton opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself before reforming his thoughts.

  “Are you gonna do it?” He asked.

  “I told him no but he thinks Daisy will change my mind,” Bob said.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s a good idea,” Cotton said.

  “What? You hate politicians,” Bob said.

  “That’s just it. You’re not a politician. People respect you. You have roots in the mines and in the land. It’s like you bridge the world between the working class and the political world. You care about people and you’re willing to fight for them. You’ve proved it time and again,” Cotton said.

  “You know something Bob? He’s right. The Boss said the same thing. I don’t know of anybody that would be better to run,” Hill said.

  “I’m pretty sure when Daisy hears this scatterbrained scheme it’ll be a moot point anyway,” Bob said.