Shine On (8 page)

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Authors: Allison J Jewell

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BOOK: Shine On
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She opened her mouth to speak but stopped. It wasn’t worth dignifying his stupidity with a comment. Ava’s father’s firm had represented local police officers and city officials. People were always just jealous of those that were successful.

“Well, I actually have to get going. I was supposed to be off thirty minutes ago,” she added snidely.

“Remember my advice, Emma,” he called after her.

Her hands were still shaking… her heartbeat was still pounding in her ears… but she didn’t stop. Emmie just kept on walking right out the door.

Chapter Twelve

“R
…o…b…i…n…” the boy paused sounding out each letter.

She showed him how to chunk the word into two words and a light bulb went off. “I know it, Miss Emmie. I know it. Rob…in… Robin. Like the bird and it matches this picture.” The boy jumped up elated with himself.

“You did it, Max. See I told you that you’d make a great reader. You just have to know all the tricks,” she smiled up at him. They were sitting on a bench outside the store. This bench had turned into a classroom two days a week and it was so much fun for both of them. Sadly, it was more fun than he’d probably have once he finally started school. Then it’d be all about memorizing and copying things from the board. Emmie knew from experience. When she graduated, she would do her best to change that.

“I never knew big words was just made up of small ones,” he said, thumping the book with his good hand.

“Well, what in the world is all this racket?” Walter walked up and stopped in front of them. He hooked his thumbs under the straps of his overalls like he always did.

“Pawpaw I just figured out a big trick in reading,” he said, holding the book up.

“Trick?” Walt questioned.

“Yep, Max just figured out that sometimes there’s smaller words in the big ones,” Emmie answered.

“Hmm,” Walter thought, unsure what to say. “Well, good job Max. Mamaw Mae is headed home and needs you to help shuck some more corn she’s putting up. Tell Miss Emmie thank you.”

The boy did as he was told and turned to head home with a little pep in his step.

“Wait,” Emmie called after him. “Would you mind walking Spotty home? I’m heading to Ava’s and he will follow me.”

“Sure, Miss Emmie. Me and Spotty’s good friends, ain’t we?” Max patted his thigh with his good hand and whistled. The dog looked up at Emmie reluctantly.

“Go on. I’ll be home later.” She smiled pushing him toward Max. The lazy old thing stretched then took his time walking over to Max.

When Max and the dog made it to the end of the row of shops, Walter spoke, “He really learned good for ya? Think he’s gonna make it at school?” Walt laid it all out on in the line.

“Oh yes. He’s a really fast learner,” Emmie assured him.

“That’s real good.” He looked relieved. “I appreciate what you are doing.”

“Honestly, he doesn’t need my help, really. I think I’m learning more from him than he is from me,” she said.

Walter nodded and looked down at his feet.

“What ever’s affected his moving… it hasn’t hurt a thing in his mind. That boy is smart.” Emmie reached up and touched the old man’s arm.

Walt bit his bottom lip, causing the gray hair that surrounded it to stand straight up. He only nodded. Too many emotions to speak. Emmie got that.

“Ya got time to walk with me a minute?” he said, glancing at Will and Mr. Thomas through the shop windows. “I need to tell you a couple things.”

Emmie fell into step with him as they headed out of town. When they had walked past a few shops he started speaking again.

“I’ve been thinking about what you found. You don’t need to be stuck with that stuff in your house. Part of me hopes maybe you’ve had the good sense just to pour it down the sink.” He looked at her for an answer. Her eyes let him know the jars of moonshine were still there in the pantry. “That’s what I figured. Well, the bigger part of me thinks that would have been a waste of money anyway,” he said.

“I guess I’ve been having the same battle. I don’t know which it is,” she started.

“Just hear me out.” He stopped walking and turned to look at her. “If I had the money outright I’d just buy that ’shine from you and give you your money so you could get yourself into that school and outta thinking of all this mess. But here’s the kicker—I ain’t got it and I ain’t got no way to get the money quick neither. I’ve been thinking about it since you showed me them jars.”

“Really it’s fine, Walt. I should have thought before I asked you. That would be a lot of ’shine for you just to sell all at once. You can just have it. I can move it to the cave for you. It’s probably yours anyway, right? I mean you and Ronnie worked this thing together.”

“See that’s the thing Emmie. That’s why I ain’t got no way to unload ’em. I got a few folks on my list. That’s how I got into doing this, just a few friends that like to wet their whistle every now and again. That’s pretty much all I been making for these last few months,” Walter explained.

Emmie nodded trying to understand where he was going with telling her all of this.

“See, I ain’t got no way to get money or sell all them jars because I don’t know who we was selling ’shine to. Ronnie liked to drink but he didn’t take all that you found for himself. He’d always hide a big mess of it, sell it, and then come back for more when the next batch was done. Ronnie didn’t want me to know who he was selling to; said that wasn’t how our business was gonna work. His job was to sell and my job was to make. To tell ya the truth I never had no reason to question it. I figured if he ever got busted by the revenuers the less I knew about any of it the better. And then last spring when Cliff’s barn got burned down—well, I figured all the better that I didn’t know nothing about it.”

“Cliff Harris’s barn? What’s that got to do with you and Ronnie making ’shine?” Emmie asked, thoroughly confused.

He swore under his breath. “I shouldn’t have said that. I thought everybody knew Cliff was making money on the side with the revenuers. He was a fool bragging about it to everyone… Making ’shine, used to be about tradition. Family heritage. Now, I don’t know… I didn’t want no part of those moonshine feuds.”

“Walt, the only thing I knew about ’shine until a couple of weeks ago was that Ronnie was as mean as a snake when he drank it,” she laughed then thought a moment about what he’d just told her. Her brain was trying to fit all the pieces together. “Wait, Walt, are you telling me you think Ronnie had something to do with Cliff’s barn getting burned? Was he involved in these ’shine feuds you mentioned?” she whispered.

“No, no. I ain’t saying that. They already laid blame on the Johnson’s. They are saying that old man is the one that burned his barn,” Walter said, looking off in the distance.

“Johnson. You mean Bo’s folks? Are you saying his family is mixed up in all this too?” Emmie asked, trying to piece it all together.

“I don’t know what I’m saying. More than I should, I guess. I just know there is stuff going on that I don’t want no part of… and I sure don’t want you to have no part of,” he said. They walked on in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own mind.

Finally Walt continued, “Well, I guess my point is I really ain’t got nobody much to sell this ’shine I been making to… much less what you found in your pantry. I am going to get that out of your house though. I don’t like you having it,” he said.

“Sure. You can just have it. You have helped me more than enough already. Want me to help you move it to the cave?” she asked.

“No, I don’t want you to touch it. I’ll bring my truck over to your house and pick it up tomorrow morning, okay?” he asked.

“Sounds fine. And Walter, thanks for all your help so far. I know you don’t have to take on my troubles,” she added and meant it. If he didn’t have a way to sell the moonshine he’d made in her cave, then he was paying her to make a paste these last couple of weeks that he didn’t really even need. It must have been his way of trying to help her. She’d have to think of some way to make it up to him.

“One more thing Emmie.” He started walking again.

“Are you sure there is no hope of you just taking up with Mr. Thomas?” he asked. “I know it’s none of my business. He could probably just pull the money you need right out of his safe, if he thought you might be Mrs. Thomas someday. It’d keep you out of all this ’shine talk.” He kept looking straight ahead.

“There is not a snowball’s chance in Hades that I will
ever
be Mrs. Thomas, I promise you that. Anyway, he’s not too keen on the idea of me going to school. He thinks it’s a waste of time.” Emmie arched a brow hoping to end this part of their conversation.

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised to hear it. I understand.” He ran his hands over his whiskers while he thought of what to say next. “Then I’ll just say, be careful around him. Don’t bring up nothing around him that relates to ’shining or would even make him think of ’shining. He don’t think much of it.”

Emmie waited for Walt to go on but he didn’t seem to have anything else to say.

“I gotta head on home. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks again for working with Max.” Walt turned and headed toward his house. Emmie hadn’t walked another twenty-five feet when she heard a car slow down next to her.

“Headed my way?” Silas asked leaning out the window of his car.

“Actually, yes I am,” she said.

“Want a ride?” He opened the door.

“That’d be nice.” She stepped into the black Model T Ford and closed the door behind her.

“So this is why your shoes are always dirty. You don’t have a car,” he smiled, changing gears.

“My shoes are not always dirty.” She looked down at the layers of dirt creeping up her soles.
Are they?

He smirked, never looking up from the road.

“And even if they were. It wouldn’t be a very gentlemanly thing for you to point out.” She crossed her arms trying to decide if she was mad or teasing him.

“Sweetheart, make no mistake—I am not a gentleman.” He shifted gears again and the car picked up speed as it took them to Ava’s house.

Chapter Thirteen

T
hey drove for a bit in silence while she thought about what Walter had said. Who in the world would burn down Cliff’s barn? She knew Cliff from Ronnie’s church. He seemed like a nice enough guy. Did Ronnie have it in him to do something like that? Emmie also wondered how Walter knew Mr. Thomas’s opinion on moonshine. What she did know was Mr. Thomas would never tell her. She leaned down and started casually brushing the dust off her black Mary Jane heels.

“Now don’t be getting all that dust in my car.” Silas glanced over at her, a smile peaking out the corner of his lips.

“Oh shush, you infuriating thing. I can see you smiling, you know.” She pointed at his mouth. “Right there, I see the start of the forbidden Silas grin.”

He laughed.

She was starting to feel more at ease around him. In the last couple weeks since his apology they’d seen each other nearly every day. She had been going to Ava’s almost every night. Her house felt too dark and lonely. Ava had asked her countless times to pack up and stay with her but she just wasn’t ready yet.

“You should do it more often, you know,” the words escaped her lips before she even had the chance to think.

“Talk about your dirty shoes?” He loved to keep her riled up as long as possible.

“No, smile. Makes you look years younger.” She tried to turn it into a joke but wasn’t as witty as he was.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” And just like that he looked more serious again.

“Oh, come on. I was just teasing. You know you don’t look old.” She smacked his arm playfully.

He rubbed his arm and looked genuinely surprised. “I never took you for a violent girl, Emma Talbot.”

“Only when forced,” she smiled.

“I’ll remember that,” he answered.

“And please don’t call me Emma. My mama only called me that when I was in trouble… and even worse than that… it’s what Mr. Thomas calls me.” She faked a shiver for effect.

“Why don’t you just tell him you don’t like it?” He arched a brow and glanced over at her as they turned into the driveway.

“I did correct him once when I first started working there. He told me ‘Emmie is a child’s name and you are a lady now, Emma,’” she mocked his voice perfectly. “It wasn’t worth the argument, so I let it go.”

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