Shine On (19 page)

“Second best,” Walter said with a smile.

“Hmm,” Bo huffed, refusing to fully take the older man’s bait.

Emmie rubbed her face and took in her surroundings: barns burning, car crashes, tradition, court cases, old friends, and old men. This was so much bigger than she was. She suddenly just wanted out of that cave. She felt claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in around her.

Emmie shrugged her shoulder and sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know… I just…” But she didn’t know how to finish.

“Emmie girl, just go back to ya house. Bo, walk her back. I’ll keep an eye on things up here,” Walter ordered.

Bo shuffled toward the mouth of the cave, stopped and arched an eyebrow at Emmie, waiting to see if she would join him. Emmie walked over to Walter, swallowed hard and whispered, “I know I just keep messing up. I hope you know I’m just tryin’ to help.”

Walter laughed and pulled the pipe out of his mouth. “I know girl. Get down to your house. Let Bo walk ya, he’s a good boy. Nothing to fear.” His eyes sparkled. What was he playing at? Emmie turned and fell into step with Bo.

“I’m sorry about that rock. I just didn’t know if you were going to do,” she said.

“Nah… I shouldn’t have been so stupid as to carry that lantern up the hill. Just didn’t know where I was going exactly. You aren’t gonna call the police or nobody are ya?” he asked, helping her over a fallen sapling.

Emmie laughed. “Lord no, don’t worry about that.” He really had no idea how much Walter meant to her or how deep she’d already dug herself into this moonshine mess.

As they rounded the corner Bo glanced over at the charred tree. “Is that where it happened?”

He didn’t have to say what. Everyone here knew Ronnie had died in a fiery crash on her farm.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I’m sorry about that. It’s awful about you being out here all alone. Guess that’s why Walt’s taken you under his wing though,” Bo thought aloud.

Emmie hadn’t thought of that but it might be true. They were quiet most of the way back to her house. He stopped as they neared her porch. “I guess since I’m running your water through that still it’d only be right to invite ya to the celebration. Walter will be there, you could probably go with him and Mae. Nobody’d question it, they’d probably be glad to see ya. You ain’t been at church since Ronnie passed. Everyone’s been wondering how you’re holding up.”

Emmie hadn’t expected this turn of events. “Okay, well… sure,” she shrugged. “I just might come.”

She had to be polite. She wasn’t exactly sure that she would go to the party but surely she had to pretend to consider the invitation, right?

“Good. Hope you can come,” he smiled.

She turned and unlocked the door and waved through the window. Spotty propped up beside her barking at Bo as he walked away. That night she slept a little easier with Walter and Bo on the farm. She didn’t feel so alone. Emmie still felt bad about messing up Walter’s moonshine and almost messing up whatever was really going on in that cave tonight. But it felt good to not be alone.

By the time she closed her eyes it was nearly two in the morning and she had to make eight o’clock Mass. Her stomach flipped at the thought of seeing Silas tomorrow, so she tried to keep her mind on other things, like if Bo’s granddad didn’t burn down that barn, who did? Were there more moonshiners in the county than Walter and Bo’s pap? She had no idea… but she was sure of one thing—she didn’t really want to find out.

Chapter Twenty-nine

F
our hours of sleep did not look good on her. Her eyes were puffy and red. She couldn’t get Bo out of her mind but it wasn’t the same way she couldn’t get Silas out of her mind. Bo’s family as moonshiners had thrown her for a loop. Their family seemed so normal, they were smart with a strong farm, respected in the community, and well-known, but they made moonshine. They’d even attracted enough attention that a revenuer had blamed his pap for burning down his barn. She had awoken all night thinking about this, like her body rested but her mind never let go of the new information she’d learned.

Surprisingly enough, she didn’t feel that tired though. Her nerves were up with the thought of seeing Silas for the first time in days. Emmie put on her best dress, the same drop-waist frock from Chicago that she had worn the day she met Silas. Being he was a guy, he probably wouldn’t even notice. Looking outside the small kitchen window she noticed the gray skies had opened up and it had started to rain.

Maybe she should add a car to the list of things that she needed to be saving money for, but would never be able to afford. That thought actually made her laugh out loud. Even if she had a car, she had no idea how to drive. Ronnie always told her there was no need for her to learn because she could depend on him to take her places until she married. He didn’t think it was right for a woman to drive around alone. Eventually, she had just given up the fight—choose your battle was an important thing to remember with Ronnie.

She walked around the stairs and pilfered through a small chest in the living room until she found an old black umbrella. Walking in the rain was something that Emmie enjoyed, however, she’d spent an hour and half this morning trying to look nice: pinning, powdering, primping. The rain was sure to make her makeup smear and leave her ankle-deep in mud.

Emmie reached to the top of the cabinet and pulled out a large dark brown picnic basket. She’d come across the umbrella and basket a few days ago when she was cleaning. She had been spending so much time away lately that she had barely noticed how the place was beginning to fall apart around her.

Besides, a day spent on her hands and knees scrubbing the floors and washing the windows meant she couldn’t think about how she had messed up Walt’s income with some silly apple pie moonshine idea. Or that Silas was too busy with his job to phone her. Well, that had been the theory anyway. Her mind still wandered back to those things from time to time.

Pilfering around in the drawers, she found some of the blue gingham fabric that was left from decorating the moonshine jars. Decorating moonshine jars—her face flushed at the memory. What a dumb idea. She wrapped the fabric around the jars to keep them from knocking against each other on her walk to church. Balancing the umbrella on her shoulder and tucking the basket handle into her elbow, Emmie stepped out into the weather. Spotty settled into step with her.

The rhythmic sound of the rain drumming on the umbrella was peaceful. Rain always made her feel more spiritual. She couldn’t put her finger on the why exactly. It was just the balance she guessed. People gave the sun all the credit for plants growing, sustaining life, and happiness. She chose to find her solace in the rain.

The ground was already soft. She walked down the drive, near the road that would lead her to town. Emmie tried to keep most of her weight on her toes but could still feel her heels sinking deeper into the earth. The loud hum of a car was closing in on her. She was surprised when it stopped about ten feet from her. Trick hopped out of the passenger side and waved his arms for her to hurry. She picked up pace, he took her umbrella and pushed her into the car before sliding into the backseat. When the dog acted like he may try to nose his way into the car Silas looked back at Emmie and spoke.

“You don’t expect me to give the dog a lift to church do you?” A smile played at the corner of his lips.

“No. Go back to the porch, boy,” she said out the window. He took a step away from the car but didn’t move all the way back to the house until they had pulled onto the street.

“What were you doing?” Silas asked, shifting the car into gear.

“Umm… walking to church,” she answered.

“In the rain?” He shook his head. “Were you in a hurry and couldn’t wait for the car?”

“I didn’t know you were coming to get me… And, I don’t melt in the water,” she smiled.

“You’re sweet enough to. Don’t all things made of sugar melt?” he mocked.

She snorted, “That’s about the sorriest line I’ve ever heard, Silas McDowell.”

“Ohh,” Trick laughed from the backseat, “a girl just put you in your place, brother.”

“Shut up, Trick,” Silas barked but then his crooked grin appeared and gave away his amusement.

“Alright, no more lines… unless they are original. Let’s just say from now on if I ask you to go somewhere, assume I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

“Alright,” she nodded. “And thank you.”

***********

Saint Joseph Catholic Church was as beautiful as she remembered. It was built in the late 1800s by German and Italian immigrants that moved to the area. Its handcrafted brick walls reached up taller than any of the small houses that surrounded it. Elaborate gothic style stained glass windows displayed popular stories from the bible. Even those in town that couldn’t read or understand the language of the Mass could still learn just by looking at the stories the windows told. Two elaborate wooden doors were propped open welcoming those from the street. By the time they arrived at the church, the organist had already begun playing. The eerie calm of the hymn bursting through the organ pipes filled the air. With every breath you took, the music went straight from your lungs to your soul.

Emmie had grown up going to Ronnie’s church sporadically. Sometimes in the sermon the preacher would mention the local Catholics. Saying they were just folks that “liked their wine” and “used the church collection to buy new golden things to hang on their altar.” It was the general belief among most of the folks in town that Catholics believed in the same God and Jesus but that’s pretty much where all the similarities stopped.

Emmie remembered repeating this to her mother once. She’d looked at her with a stern eye and said, “Emma Rose. Who are we to judge how people want to worship? Maybe they just want to make things be as pretty as possible for God. You know how we put on our best clothes? Maybe that’s all there trying to do with their building. It is not our job to judge. You’d be best to remember that.”

Mama didn’t get angry often but when she was disappointed, her words were wrapped in meaning. It was a conversation Emmie had never forgotten. From that day on when she had gone to church with Ava, she’d only looked for the beauty in the building. She found it everywhere—in the long wooden pews, in the elaborate columns that reached to an arched ceiling, but mostly she found it in the way the church was stone-silent all through Mass other than the music or the priest. It was like everyone there was so caught up in the experience they didn’t have time to think about anything else. It never ceased to amaze her.

Silas was no different than all of the other church patrons. He walked in and genuflected, bringing his knee all the way to the ground and bowed his head in reverence before entering the pew. She wanted to mimic his movements but was afraid of doing it wrong. So she kept her head down in what she hoped looked like a sign of respect and then scooted across the bench next to him. As soon the three of them were in place and had their belongings situated, he and Trick knelt on the ground. Arms rested on the pew in front of them, hands folded together, heads bent in prayer. He and Trick seemed to move in unison almost like synchronized swimmers.

But when she looked at their faces, she realized they were doing more than mindlessly going through the motions. They looked so honest, so pure. Trick’s mouth was actually moving as he whispered some silent prayer. Silas was still but she could tell by his expression that his brain was working. She wondered what he might be praying for. Was he asking for something or maybe it was a prayer of thanksgiving? She would never know. Suddenly, it seemed like the moment was too private to watch.

She looked down and pushed her umbrella under the pew before deciding to join them on the kneeling bench. She guessed that she needed to do some praying of her own. Emmie closed her eyes and she brought her hands together. Before she whispered the first word, she felt a warm hand wrap around her right arm and squeeze it gently. Emmie peeked open her eyes to see Silas smiling over at her. He looked so pleased. He rubbed her arm and his eyes bore into hers, speaking without words. Then he folded his hands back together and continued his quiet meditation.

Chapter Thirty