Shine On (10 page)

The rest of the gang was huddled around the doors of the cellar. “Ready?” Gabe asked Silas.

Silas looked around and nodded.

Gabe pulled open the cellar door and laid it flat on the ground. “Quick.” Ava opened her mouth to say something. “Now, quick,” he repeated and walked ahead of her down the stairs. Ava followed behind holding onto the back of his jacket.

“Come on.” Silas pulled Emmie forward never letting go. She could feel her heels sliding on the damp concrete stairs as they descended deeper into the cellar. It was cool, damp, and dark.

Trick grabbed the doors and pulled them closed as he stepped down the stairs. Just before it completely snapped shut Gabe reached up and pulled a chain. A single bulb emitted a yellow light that barely saved them from the pitch black.

Emmie felt her heart pounding in her chest. What in the world was she doing? Anything that leads you into a dark cellar cannot be good, right?

“Trust me, remember?” Silas looked down at her and brushed a hair off her cheek.

“Silas, I…” she started, then broke off. He was so calm, relaxed. She found peace in his demeanor. “Okay,” she nodded.

“Alright. Knock three times,” Silas told Trick.

Trick did as he was told.

“Sorry. No deliveries today,” a muffled voice called from the other side.

“Knock twice,” Silas whispered to Trick.

At once a small peephole opened and a large brown eye stared back at them waiting.

“Shine on,” Silas said to the eye.

The peephole snapped shut, followed by a series of creeks, flips, and knocks. The door squeaked open to reveal a short man with dark skin and the most beautiful deep brown eyes. He was barely Emmie’s height. He reached up and pulled the cellar’s light cord leaving them with only thin strip of light spilling out from where he stood in the basement.

“Welcome Mr. McDowell. We got your call and everything is ready for you.” He turned and nodded at Gabe then Trick.

As they walked into the cellar, they were surrounded by restaurant goods: boxes of corn, sacks of potatoes and flour, broken chairs, and old tables. They must be under the restaurant.

“Right this way. Watch your step ladies,” he said stepping over a broken pallet.

They stopped when they reached the heavy steel door in back of the cellar. The small man reached up a tightly balled fist and knocked on the door five times. The sound echoed through the small basement.

The door opened and Emmie could not believe her eyes. It was a full restaurant. There were ten square tables draped in white cloths and a couple of larger booths in the back corners. The soft lighting of the chandeliers added a warm orange glow to the stonewalls that enclosed them. They must be under the store… maybe the bank too.

This was so weird. Why would there be such an elaborate hidden restaurant under that grimy one upstairs? The tall blond that answered this door was talking feverishly with Silas and Gabe. He was all smiles and pleasantness as he led them to one of the booths in the back. “We’re so glad to see you’ve brought these lovely ladies. Everything is ready for you at the back table.” He held an arm out to the large booth to the right.

That’s when it caught her eye. Half of the length of the stonewall to the right was an honest-to-goodness bar. There wasn’t liqueur on the shelf behind the bar. It was just filled with some glasses but she could see a man in a long white apron stirring some concoction. Although she wasn’t sure whom it was for… this place was like a ghost town other than her party and the staff.

She scooted around to the center of the round bench as full awareness dawned on her. She’d heard ramblings of places like this in big cities, whispers of blind pigs or underground saloons. Places that didn’t give up the nightlife just because of the 18th amendment. Of course, when she’d read about them it was usually because they’d been raided and carts full of people had been taken to jail.

Her pulse quickened at the possibility. She looked around at her friends. Ava was elated, smiling, lighting a cigarette, and saying things like amazing and wonderful place. Gabe looked happy he’d pulled off a good surprise. Trick hadn’t sat down yet. He’d stopped off at the bar and was engaged in conversation with the man in the long white apron that worked there. Silas, well… Silas was watching her look at everyone and everything around them.

“You brought me to a blind pig?” she asked.

“A blind pig? No,” he laughed, “I wouldn’t take you to one of those rough places. This is a restaurant and I promise the food is much better than it looked upstairs.”

“But I see a bar over there,” she questioned, “and we had to go down through a basement and speak passwords and knock special ways…. It feels like a blind pig.”

“Honey, a blind pig is a roughneck saloon. Yes, there is one of those here but I would never let you go there. This is just a restaurant that is private. Members only. A speakeasy. Not as nice as what we have in Chicago but pretty good for a little country one.”

“Speakeasy.” Emmie tried the word out. She had heard the word. “What do we do here?”

He laughed at her question. “Emmie girl, we eat. We relax.” He rubbed his brow in exasperation. “Whatever you usually do out with friends. You just have the option of having a drink if you want.” He wasn’t sure how this was going.

She nodded her head and took a long swig of the water that the waiter had just put down on the table.

“Can I get ya something else to drink?” the waiter asked.

Emmie looked at Silas, leaned in, and whispered in his ear, because she was too embarrassed to ask aloud. “Like moonshine? Is that what he’s asking me? Because I really don’t like the taste of that stuff.”

“We’re going to need just a minute.” Silas sent the waiter away.

Chapter Sixteen

“S
ure. Sure. Mr. McDowell. I’ll just get Mr. Del Grande’s drinks and be back shortly,” he said with only the faintest southern drawl.

The waiter walked away from the table to give them privacy. Gabe and Ava were into their own private conversation, faces close, Ava was giggling. Silas scooted closer to Emmie.

“Em?” he made her name a question.

“Yeah,” she answered, wide eyes still periodically glancing around at her surroundings.

“Do you want to leave?” he asked sincerely.

She thought it over. He could tell she was having an internal debate. He could almost imagine the little angel and devil on her shoulder arguing with each other. After a few moments she closed her eyes in silent resolve. He wasn’t usually a betting man but he would put money on the fact they were not eating here tonight. It’d been a piss poor idea anyway. What was he thinking?

“No,” she said quickly, like she was afraid if she didn’t answer fast she would change her mind.

“No?”

“Yes…. my answer is no. I want to stay but I’ll need you to help me understand some things, okay?” she asked.

“On a scale from one to ten how much trouble would I be in the if the police or revenuers showed up?”

“Zero,” he said honestly.

“Zero because it’s not illegal?” she asked.

“Zero because I have this under control and that’s all you need to know. You said you trusted me.” He set his mouth in a firm line showing that he wasn’t really going to be pushed any further with the legality question.

He helped manage a law firm for goodness sake how could he skirt this issue?

Well, she wasn’t going to be pushed either. “There is a difference in being trusted and being plain ole stupid, Silas.”

His eyebrows rose with surprise but he said nothing else. He hadn’t expected that. Usually when he told someone that’s all you need to know they stopped talking.

“Okay, next question. What kinds of drinks will that man make me?” she pointed to the bartender.

“To answer your question earlier, yes, they do have moonshine, ’shine, white lightning, what ever you want to call it. However, since you’ve already told me you are not a fan of that,” he paused thinking and then added, “which, by the way, I may have a few questions of my own later… You may want to consider a soda pop and bourbon, beer, wine, or a mixed ’shine drink.”

Uh oh… she was an idiot. Why did she tell him she didn’t like moonshine? Now he was going to ask her questions and she was the world’s worst liar. So, she chose to avoid that little comment. “What’s a mixed ’shine drink? And how does this place get all of this stuff?”

“Mixed makes the moonshine easier to drink. Takes away some of the burn… Georgia’s peach ’shine is sweet… tastes like peaches, if you’d like to try that. It’s kind of like a punch. And for your second question… It’s not my job to know where it comes from.” The lie rolled off his tongue easily. She did not need to know that; it was for her own good.

“Why is it so dead in here?” she looked around at the empty place.

“Gabe and I wanted to take you all somewhere nice and private. So, when you were getting ready we made a couple of calls. You’d be surprised what a few dollars can do in this town,” he smiled.

What he didn’t tell her was he really just didn’t want her first experience in a speakeasy to be crowded with people she was going to have to walk past on the street, see at the store, or sit next to in church. He didn’t know how she was going to react to this place. He wanted it to be as comfortable and relaxing as possible.

“So, do you want something to drink or is it just dinner?” he asked.

“I’ll give the peach thing a whirl. I like peaches,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

Partly she wanted to give it a try in hopes it would relax her nerves but a second part of her wanted to give it a taste. It sounded somewhat familiar to the applesauce concoction that Ava had accidentally made a couple of weeks ago. And that got her wheels turning. Although her gears were somewhat conflicted. Why was she so nervous being here, yet helping Walt make paste or thinking about a new recipe for ’shine didn’t bother her a bit? It made no sense.

The waiter came back with what looked like two sodas for Ava and Gabe but she was sure there was something more in them by the way they were sipping. Trick sat at the bar, he didn’t want to be surrounded by couples.

“Nothing but water for me tonight,” Silas said. “She will have the Georgia’s peach.”

They never ordered food but filet mignon wrapped in bacon with sides of mashed potatoes and peas alongside the biggest buttery yeast roll she had ever seen arrived at their table at the same time as Emmie’s drink.

“Oh, this looks wonderful,” Emmie said, smiling down at the plate. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real meal like this.

“I’m glad you are enjoying it,” Silas commented halfway through their meal. He liked eating with her. The girls he was around back home cut their food in small pieces and then spent most of their time moving it around on their plates rather than actually swallowing it.

Emmie had put down more food than he had. Ava on the other hand was more of the pushing food around variety, which explained why she looked like a walking stick and Emmie… Emmie had curves. Good curves. He had a mental flash back of the first day he met her when she was dripping wet from the pool. He smiled at the memory.

“I’m sorry.” She put her fork down and looked up. “I haven’t eaten today, I guess I was starving.”

“Why have you not eaten?” he asked concerned.

“We’ve been so busy at the store lately and with Will only showing up here and there now, I haven’t had much time to eat. I guess I just forgot. But my gosh, this is good.”

“Eat up. If you’re gonna drink that later,” he pointed to the Georgia’s peach, “you’re going to want something in your belly.”

She glanced over at Ava’s still nearly full plate and felt too self-conscious to continue eating like a pig. “Don’t look at me Emmie. I had a big lunch. You eat up.”

Emmie laughed at her friend. “You’re lying. I haven’t ever in my life seen you eat a big anything.”

“Well we can’t all be so fortunate to eat what we want and stay a beauty like you. Your food goes to the right places…” She touched her friend’s arm and smiled.

Ava remembered when Emmie’s mom had first died. They were only fifteen. Ronnie had once let her go days with almost no food in the house and no money to get it before Emmie asked if she could come over for dinner. She never wanted Emmie to feel bad about eating anything. Ava had always felt herself lucky to have the luxury to be a picky eater. Most people around here didn’t get that chance.

Emmie’s face flushed at her friend’s complement. “You know that’s not true but thanks for not making me feel like a hog,” she laughed. “So, what’s in this thing?” Emmie swirled the drink around in the glass and gave it a good sniff.

It smelled like peaches and something else that burned her nose a little. That was the ’shine, no doubt.

“Fruits and vegetables mostly. It’s good for you,” Trick answered, finally joining them. And he wasn’t exactly lying. Most of the moonshine around here was made from corn. “Give it a taste.”

Emmie tipped her drink up a tiny bit, expecting the white lightning experience she’d had with Ava not long ago. However, she was pleasantly surprised. The peaches made it taste sweet, tart, and cool. It only had the faintest burn as she swallowed it down.