I swear I took maybe ten seconds to look at my cat and when I looked up, a man with a big shotgun was standing in the middle of the road. I slammed my foot on the brake. Did this ugly looking man have a death wish or something?
The Buick squealed to a stop about three inches from the gun. The man in front of me never flinched. How would he know if I could stop that suddenly? Already, seeing the wild look in his black eyes, I knew he was crazy and that I was in big trouble.
He never moved so I never moved either. At least, I was able to get a good look at him. He seemed to be sizing me up too. This, of course, would be the time Sammy would decide to wake up and make his move. Like, why couldn’t he use the litter box before we left home?
Before I could make a grab for him, he was heading for the open window. (Perhaps I forgot to mention that I have no air-conditioning so on warm days, I leave my windows open.) At that moment, if I’d been the one holding that gun, I would’ve had an overwhelming urge to shoot it in the direction of that cat.
Many things happened simultaneously; I grabbed for the cat’s tail, my foot went off the brake, my car shot forward, the hillbilly yelled bloody murder, flew backwards, and the shotgun went off.
Instinctively, I slammed on the brakes and shoved the gearshift into ‘Park.’ How could I lose a cat and kill a man within seconds of each other? Legally speaking, it would have been better if it had been the other way around although Sammy was one of my favorite cats.
I sat for a moment. All strength left my body. I knew I had to check on the dead man but it wouldn’t help if I looked, saw all the blood, and then fell into a dead faint.
Flori sometimes suffers from panic attacks and fortunately, she likes to go into detail so I knew what I should do now. I closed my eyes and breathed in until my lungs hurt; then I let the air out slowly. I was on my third intake when I heard a low growl. I looked up and the dead man was standing up, leaning over the hood of my car, and staring at me. His shoulder length hair was black with some streaks of gray. It was impossible not to notice how greasy he looked. His skin, his hair, his beard, and even the ragged shirt and overalls he wore had a dirty oily sheen to them.
Fortunately for me, there wasn’t a scratch on him that I could see and definitely no sign of blood. The rage, however, was quite easy to discern.
Well, I knew we couldn’t go on staring at each other. Someone had to make the first move and I figured the person who does is the one who has the upper hand; although on second thought, the gun might make a difference. This fellow didn’t look extremely intelligent so I was counting on my intelligence to shine.
I opened my door and climbed out.
“Sir? Are you all right? I had no idea you were going to come up and stand so close to my car. It can be very dangerous as I’m sure you’re aware. At least, if you weren’t, you are now.”
The man who I reckoned was a Patterson, backed away from the car. I quickly glanced at the front of my car to see if I had any damage. I was relieved to see that there was none. When I looked up at him, I realized I was facing a six-foot-something giant.
He slowly brought the gun up and pointed it at me. At this point, I would say that he definitely had the upper hand. I had to get my brain in gear.
“What do you want?” he asked, in a low growl. “This here’s private property or can’t you read the signs?”
“Oh, the signs? Yes, I did see the signs but how can you do any business if your customers see the signs and leave?”
It’s a good thing I’m a fairly good judge of character because it did take him a moment to digest that thought.
He stared at me. “You say you’re a customer? A customer for what? We don’t sell apple pies here.”
I laughed. Well, you know it wasn’t a real laugh. It was about the closest I could come to one without breaking down in tears or wetting myself.
“That’s funny,” I said. “No, I’m here to talk to a Mr. Patterson. He’s probably your father?”
“What do you want with my father?”
“This is private business and it doesn’t have anything to do with you.” My voice sounded stronger to me so I hoped it did to him too.
“This ain’t no ladies club here, you know.”
“Oh, trust me, this ain’t no ladies’ business either.”
Although still looking a bit bewildered, I guess he decided he wasn’t going to get anywhere with me on his own so he said, “Okay, git walkin’ and I’ll take you to Pa but this better be good or he’ll have my hide.”
“Oh, are you the guard?”
He smiled and I could see a few decays and missing teeth. I felt I’d made some progress though.
“I’d say that’s a very important job. Probably the most important job your pa could hand out, right?”
He shrugged and, thankfully, lowered the gun. “I reckon so. Nobody gits in here past me.”
“I can see that. You’re a good judge of character. What’s your name, son?”
“I’m Brady.”
I held out my hand. “And I’m Mabel. It’s real nice to meet you, Brady.”
We shook hands and, mentally, I reminded myself to take out the hand sanitizer and wash my hands as soon as I got back in the car. Whenever or if ever that would be.
“Real nice meetin’ you, Mabel. I could tell right off that you were one of those nice ladies, but you know, I gotta be kind of tough when I’m workin’.”
“I understand, Brady.” I pointed to my car. “Should we drive up to the house then?”
He stared at me. “You mean me and you?”
I nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”
His smile stretched from ear to ear. I told you men drool over my car.
“Hot dog! I’d love to go for a ride in that car. That’s about the prettiest car I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed (a real laugh).
“How far is it to the house, Brady?”
“It’s about a mile.”
“That far? I thought your house was closer to the road.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Years ago we used to live in the old house but now we got a trailer and we live further down by the lake.”
I could see the old house coming up. It was similar to Campbell’s house, but this one had no paint anymore and some bright people, probably drunk on moonshine, had smashed all the windows.
“Just needs some paint and some fixing up,” I said, as we drove past and kept going down the narrow path.
He shook his head. “Nah, Pa said we don’t want no memories of Ma so that’s why we moved.”
The word ‘Ma’ sent a chill down my spine.
Without sounding too curious, I said, “You must have really missed your mother when you were younger.” I looked over at him and smiled. “There’s nothing like a mother’s home cooking, right?”
“Yeah, I miss that for shore. There ain’t no good cooks in our family now that Carly’s gone.”
“I hear she’s doing really well for herself though. She’s got a job at the hospital. Did you know?”
He nodded. “I heard.”
“You don’t think it’s too good?”
I could see him watching me but I couldn’t take my eyes off the winding road even though my top speed was five miles per hour.
He didn’t say anything for a few moments. “I guess it’s okay. I don’t like her gittin’ in with that Bobby Campbell though.”
“Really? He’s a doctor now.” I gave him a quick glance. “I’ve heard he’s supposed to be good.”
“I don’t like him. He upsets Pa.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve only met him once. He’s actually my neighbor. I’ve met his mother. She seems very nice. Do you know Mrs. Campbell?”
He nodded. “She’s nice. My mom used to like her. Sometimes I’d see them talking on the road when they were waiting for us to get off the school bus.”
I smiled at him. “Those sound like happy times, Brady. Did you and your brothers graduate?”
“Nope. Pa kept us at home as soon as he could. Us boys got our grade eight. Pa said that was enough and he needed us here.”
“You must have been upset when your mom left.”
“At first I was but I understood. Pa can be really mean if he’s a mind to. She used to write us when we were still small but then she stopped.”
I almost drove off the road. “She did? I always thought no one ever heard from her again.”
“That’s gossip. You believe gossip, Miss Mabel?”
“You’re right, Brady. I shouldn’t but sometimes I do.”
We had come to the end of the road. In front of us was an old model mobile home that had definitely seen better days. It was turquoise and white with an unpainted wooden porch attached. There was a rocking chair on the porch and an old man with long white hair and a white beard that reached his belt buckle sitting in that rocking chair. Across his lap, he cradled a shotgun that looked exactly like his son’s gun.
There were four chained-up dogs and the moment I shut the motor off, they went crazy. Pa Patterson didn’t move. I guess he thought he’d check me out before deciding what to do with me. Brady sat and didn’t say a word. I had a feeling he thought he might be in trouble.
My biggest concern was Sammy. All I could hope was that he had enough sense to stay clear and wait for me at the gate. Yes, like a cat has that much sense. At least, the poor devil had nine lives.
Sadly, I had but one.
Chapter Fifteen
Suddenly, someone yelled, “Shut up!” The dogs stopped yelping and growling, and cowered back against the trailer.
Mr. Patterson was not the one who yelled because I never saw his lips move. There was movement to my left and although I hated to take my eye off the big boss with the gun on his lap, I also wanted to know who could control the wild dogs with one bellow. Without moving my head, I could see a replica of my friend, Brady, standing beside a tree. There must have been a sale on shotguns because he was holding one too.
“That your brother?” I asked Brady while keeping my eyes on the father.
“Yep. That’s Barkley. We’re the same age.”
“Twins. Do you have any other brothers?”
I could see his head nod. “Yeah, we got Henry but he ain’t here anymore.”
“Oh, where is he?”
“He’s living with some woman out in the sticks someplace.”
“Oh.”
No one seemed to be making a move and I really didn’t want to sit in my car much longer. The sun was beginning to sink in the west and I wanted to get home before dark. Also, Brady was beginning to smell up my car.
“Should I go out and talk to your dad now?”
“I guess if you want to see him, you should.”
I opened the car door and gingerly stepped out; hopefully looking like a little old granny who no one would want to shoot. Barkley raised his gun. The old man spit tobacco juice into a spittoon about three feet away. I had a feeling he was probably as accurate shooting that gun.
“Mr. Patterson,” I said. “My name is Mabel Wickles.” I stopped, hoping he might welcome me and tell me his name. That hope died quickly. He only stared at me and then spewed out another spray of tobacco juice.
“Tell him what you’d like, Miss Mabel,” Brady said. “Pa’s a busy man so you can’t keep him waitin’ too long.”
“Yes,” I said. “I can tell you’re a busy man so I’ll get right to it.” I moved up to the bottom of the wooden steps. “Mr. Patterson, I understand that you’re in the business of producing and selling alcoholic beverages.”
At this point, Brady’s twin brother started laughing so hard, I thought he might shoot his foot by mistake.
Mr. Patterson stared at me. He had small beady eyes under his white bushy brows. I knew I did not like him. Brady turned out to be sweet but I knew there was nothing sweet about this man. I suddenly realized why Doris Patterson left and never came back. I didn’t blame her one bit. Now that I knew she’d written to her children, I felt a little guilty about my former feelings. At least, she’d tried.
One more spray of tobacco juice flew out. How much could a man keep in the side of his cheek anyway?
He wiped a drip of the black juice that was running down his chin with his sleeve. If Flori had been there, she would have vomited on the spot.
“As I said, I understand you sell liquor.” Perhaps it sounded a little too complicated for him before.
“So?” he said.
“So,” I said, speaking very slowly. I had lost my fear and was now getting annoyed. Surely, these people couldn’t be as dumb as they let on. “I would like to purchase some. However, I don’t want moonshine. I wanted to know if you’d be willing to start making wine.”
At the mention of ‘wine,’ I thought his beady eyes would pop right out of his head.
“You want me to start tramping on grapes and making a girlie drink?”
“I don’t think you have to stomp on the grapes, do you?”
Surely, that wasn’t the secret behind Sadie’s chokecherry wine. There was no way I’d drink wine that these men had even breathed on.
“Well, lady, how do you think they make wine?” He threw his head back and roared. There weren’t many teeth left in his head.
When he and his son, Barkley, had finished laughing, he stood up. Brady, I noticed, didn’t laugh or even smile. He looked terrified.
“Brady,” the old man said. “You take this old woman back out to the road and you make sure she leaves. What’s the matter with your brain anyway? I give you the easiest job and you can’t even do it?” He turned to me. “And I’m tellin’ you, don’t you ever come down this here road agin.’ You got that?” He sneered. “I don’t shoot women but can sure as shootin’ turn those dogs on you.” He hobbled into the trailer. Barkley disappeared into the woods and Brady jumped into the car.
I joined Brady who seemed relieved that we were still all in one piece and headed down the trail again.
“Miss Mabel,” Brady said, “Did you really come down all this way to see if Pa would make wine for you?”
I shrugged. “Well, it was worth a try. If I’d known he’d want to stomp the grapes with his feet, I wouldn’t have come though.”
Brady, it turned out, had a good sense of humor and we had a good laugh.
“Keep your eye out for Sammy, my cat,” I said. “I don’t want those dogs finding him.”
“Those dogs would tear that cat apart. They’re real mean. Pa keeps them over by his still most times.” He blushed. “I guess you already know we got this still hidden on our land.”
I looked at him and grinned. “I think everyone knows. How come the police have never shut you down?”
“They’re all afraid of Pa. And Barkley, he’s mean like Pa too.”
I glanced at him again. “And you? Are you mean too, Brady?”
He chuckled. “No, I ain’t mean like them. Pa says I’m useless like my mother.”
“That’s an awful thing to say. Your mother sounds like a lovely person.”
“I don’t know. If she was so good, I think she’d be still writin’ us.”
“What if she has and your father just hasn’t told you?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment as if digesting what I’d said.
“Sometimes I wonder. He gits awful mad when we say anything about her so we jus’ keep quiet now. Carly, she couldn’t stand living here anymore so I’m glad she left.”
“What about you? Why don’t you leave, Brady?”
He shrugged. “Where would I go? I don’t fit in anywhere, Miss Mabel.”
“Well, there must be something you’d like to do.”
“I’d like to be a farmer but Pa says we can’t make a go of it with cattle. I figure if we had cattle and maybe some chickens, we could have enough. I put in a garden every year, Miss Mabel, so we have lots of potatoes for the winter. That’s what I’d like to do. I know it’s wrong to think this way, but sometimes I t
hink after Pa’s dead, maybe Barkley will let me farm.”
“Maybe he’ll want to farm too.”
He shook his head. “No, he’s like Pa. They like making moonshine.”
“Do they make a lot of money selling it?”
“They make lots of money. I see rich men coming and going all the time. I’m the one who lets them in so I know what goes on. There’s some who come from a long ways to get liquor and other stuff.”
“You mean drugs?”
He blushed. “I can’t say, Miss Mabel. If’n I did, my brother and father would kill me. So, I ain’t sayin’ anything about that.”
I reached over and patted his hand. “I understand. Don’t worry, Brady. I won’t say anything to anyone. Besides, you didn’t really tell me anything, did you?”
He grinned. “I think you’re a good friend and I hope I didn’t scare you too much when you first came. You know that’s what I have to do.”
Suddenly, his arm went up and he yelled, “Look out, Miss Mabel. Stop the car.”
I slammed on the brakes and came to a stop a few feet away from my cat.
There was Sammy, sitting in the middle of the road and looking quite indignant. Brady got out and gently picked the cat up and placed him on the seat beside me.
“Brady,” I said. “You have a way with animals. That cat won’t let anyone pick her up. Sometimes not even me.” I smiled. “Don’t you give up your dream of being a farmer.”
“Yes ma’am.” Before he closed the door, he added, “You can stop by and say hello anytime, Miss Mabel.”
I drove out the gate, only looking back once to wave. Brady stood waving and smiling. I felt bad that he had to go back to that old filthy trailer and a family that could hardly be described as human.
“Well, Sammy,” I said. “Pa Patterson won’t be making any wine for me for which I’m grateful.” Sammy said something that sounded like, ‘why not.’ “Because,” I said, “he only makes homebrew, which, by the way, I knew anyway.” I reached down and scratched under his chin. “I wanted to size up the place and I think I found out quite a few things about that family.” Sammy didn’t say anything more; he was busy giving himself a good wash. “I know how you feel, cat,” I said. “I think I’ll have a bath when I get home too.”
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