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A Drink with the Deacon

By: MysteryWriter



BOOK 2

A DRINK WITH THE DEACON.

1921

We left the church cemetery in the old T model truck. The top had long since turned from simply leaky to almost non existent, the ride was cold and miserable because of it. That ride and my mood were a perfect match for one another.

Bobby pulled the T model into the dirt yard of the home place. The family home was no more than an unpainted shack. It must have been painted once since there were still white bits clinging inside the grain of the wood here and there. I couldn't for the life of me remember anything, but weathered gray boards.

I followed Bobby and Lucy into the house. We silently found seats around the stove in the living room. The fire was still burning, it had been built that morning before the funeral. Bobby added another split piece of firewood before anyone did or said anything.

We sat about in our own thoughts for a while. In my case, the thoughts were of my mother, who we had just laid to rest, and my relationship to her. The term, laid to rest, made me choke back tears. It would be the first rest she had ever known. Momma had worked right up till the stroke took her. 

No matter what Bobby said, he and Lucy had not taken care of momma those last years. I knew for a fact that she had helped around the place right till the last moment. I expected to hear their version at any moment. It would have to do with what would happen to the dirt. That is what my daddy had called it when he was alive. The dirt that his father had bought with his ill gotten gain. If daddy had gotten all of it, we would have been rich. It was too bad that Grand Pappy Deacon had been so prolific. The old man had nine head of children and all of them save one were boys. Grand pappy hadn't much liked any of his kids, so they shared the place equally. 

"So Eddie what you gonna do now?" Bobby tried to make it a light question but under the circumstances it came out differently. He wanted to know what I was going to do about my share of the dirt. The farm had barely supported one family, half of it would never support a family. 

"Well Bobby, I don't know what I am going to do right now." I wanted to leave my options open. Farming wasn't one of them though. I could have told him that and eased his mind. It was pure perversity that stopped me.

"Well Eddie, we need to know something about the farm. Bobby and I took care of your mother these last two years while you was gone." It was Lucy who spoke. I had expected it to come from her. 

"Lucy there are two things wrong with that, if you are trying to make me feel guilty. I was not on vacation, I was in the Army. Secondly, most of that time I was in a hole with some other poor soldier, in a different color coat, trying to shoot my ass off. So don't even try to make me feel guilty. As for Ma, it is my understanding she ran this house while you were working at the diner. So, I don't think there was all that much taking care of her involved." Lucy looked as though she wanted to argue, but Bobby caught her eye and shook his head.

"So, I guess you want your share of the place?" Bobby asked it with his eyes on the stove.

"Bobby, I want what I am entitled to. You just got paid for this year's tobacco crop. I will sign the farm over to you for the old T model in the yard. I also want three acres of land at the corner where our road meets the country road. I want that stand of trees there, and that Bobby is all I want."

"You can't expect us to give you the car?" It was Lucy. Lucy had turned into a real shrew.

"Shut up Lucy," Bobby said it nice and quiet. "Eddie you got a lot more coming you worked this place just like me."

"I know Bobby, but I never liked farming. I want to know I got a place to come home to, otherwise you could have it all."

"It is a reasonable amount brother." With those words, Bobby went into the kitchen to get a piece of paper. The paper came from a writing tablet Ma kept there. Bobby wrote the agreement, and I signed it. I just about half expected Lucy to ask me to leave at that moment.

"So how long you gonna be staying?" Since it was Bobby who asked, I took it as just that the harmless question he intended it to be.

"I got to go back to Fort Dix to get my discharge then I will be through with the army. I have to be back there Friday. If I am gonna' drive the T, I should get started first thing tomorrow.

"You got any money for the trip back?" I saw Lucy glare at her husband.

"I am fine Bobby. There is lots of pay I didn't spend in France." I really didn't need his money even thought it was half mine. Lucy couldn't get that through her head. She felt as though Bobby had offered me her money.

"You know that old T is worn slap out? You could buy a new one?" Bobby asked it still looking at the fire in the stove.

"Well you need a new car Bobby, and you got a little money now so get one. I can make the T get me back to New Jersey."

"That's five hundred miles Eddie. That car ain't never gonna' make it there let alone back here again."

"It only has to make it there Bobby. I won't be coming back here for a while." I figured he had already guessed it. He probably just wanted me to confirm it for him.

"You know you are always welcome here Eddie?" I wondered if he really believed that.

"This is not the best day, but I am going to head into town to get some parts to tune up the T." I left the two of them talking as I drove from the yard. I was sure they were celebrating and deciding what kind of car they would buy with my share of the harvest money. It didn't matter none to me, I sure as hell didn't want to be no damn farmer.

I had been gone longer than Lucy claimed she took care of Ma. I had been gone since I was seventeen. I went into the Army just in time for the last year of the war in France. For some reason, known only to the U.S. Army, I got held in France for two more years. Most of the troops got home in 1918, I got home in 1920. I got home on leave one time before Ma died. I should have gotten home more, but it was a long miserable trip by bus. 

On the drive into town I gave some more thought to signing over one more time, but decided against it. I might as well get back out into the cold cruel world again. It was going to be very cold and very cruel without a home or family as a safety net.

"Eddie, I saw you at the funeral this morning, I wanted to speak, but I didn't know what to say." The woman who spoke was attractive enough in that country-girl kind of way. I have always associated freckles with the country.

"Thanks Missy, it is okay I wouldn't have known what to say either. So how you doing?" I hadn't thought of Missy in ages.

"I am good Eddie. You surely are handsome in your soldier suit." She blurted it out before she lost her courage I suppose.

"Thank you, I should let you wear it then." I grinned at her.

"Are you gonna' stay around?" She looked away. Missy was still as shy as ever.

"No Missy, I am leaving tomorrow. I have to get back."

"Well Eddie, I was sorry about your Ma. She was a wonderful woman."

"Thanks Missy," I didn't know what else to say. Obviously She didn't either because she turned, then walked away. She did manage a confused goodbye as she turned her back on me.

Inside the store I picked up the turn up kit for the T. I also found a canvas tarp and a can of wax. I didn't have to stand in line to pay. I was in fact the only customer in the place.

"So Eddie, I was real sorry about your Ma." The man behind the counter spoke softly. I don't suppose it would do for anyone to know he had feelings. The might, try to take advantage of it.

"I see you still got the highest prices in the county Mr. Williams." I smiled but he must have known how I felt about him gouging my family.

"Yes my prices are high Eddie, but I give credit when most folks won't." It all evens out.

"Not hardly it don't, I sure hope Bobby never loses our place to you. I surely would take it personal."

"That will be two dollars and fifty cents." Williams did not want a scene even though it was just me and him in the store. More likely he just didn't want me to kick his ass.

I put the correct change on the counter then walked through the door. When I was outside, I realized that I should have bought a case of oil from him. The T would go through most of a case before getting to the post. Didn't matter none, I figured Bobby had some oil around the place I could use it to get to the next town anyway.

In the barn the next morning I put in the plugs and the distributor parts before I cleaned the truck up. Even if I bundled up, I knew I was going to be cold for the next few days. The roads weren't much good so the drive was going to be long and arduous.

In preparation for the trip, I took one of Grandma's old quilts into the barn. I rolled it with the canvas tarp. I hoped that I could use them both along with my great coat to stay warm and dry during the trip. I figured if it rained I would just stop the truck until it ended. I expected I had more to fear from snow than rain.

I slept poorly the night before I left home for that last time. It had a lot to do with disliking the idea of not having a safe harbor. I felt my new found orphan status deeply. The Army could be my new home, but I just didn't see me ever again in the order taking mood. It was time to move on, but to what I didn't know. I expect that 'unknown' also had a hand in my sleepless night. 

I awoke before sun up with a strong desire to be on the road. If the lights on the T had been any good at all, I might have started the trip by slipping onto the county road then onto highway 1 headed north. Instead I dressed quietly then moved off to the T. I drove it out to the country road then into town. The main street through town was highway 1 but I pulled onto a smaller street one block off main. I parked in the dirt lot of the only cafe in town. 

I ate as large a breakfast as I could, since I hoped to make a lot of miles before I stopped again. I hoped to get at least into Maryland by nightfall. It would take a lot of driving to make it I knew. Not only were the roads treacherous but the car was not all that reliable. It was a gamble but I expected the Ford to make it all the way to New Jersey.

"Eddie what brings you in so early?" the waitress asked as she cleared away my plate after refilling my coffee cup.

"Going back to the post," I replied.

"Not much here for the boys who were in France. Tommy Smith is the only one who went to France that came back here to live. Most of them moved to Richmond or Washington."

"Well, I don't think I will be headed to Washington to live. I passed through it on the train. It is pretty dirty up there. Don't seem to be much clean air to breath."

"So you gonna stay in the Army hon?" The waitress wasn't too much older than me. 

"I don't think so. I thought I might try my luck in Ohio. I got a buddy from Cincinnati. He offered me a job up there working with him."

"So what you gonna be doing?" The woman had really bad teeth I noticed them when she smiled at me.

"He and his dad own a construction company. I might give that a try for a while."

"Eddie, you headed back up north?" The voice belonged to Everett Phelps.

"Yep Ev, just as soon as I finish this here coffee."

Without asking Everett took a seat across from me. I knew him because he and my Dad have been friends.

"Did I ever tell you I knowed your grandpappy?" He looked as though he actually wanted an answer.

"No, but I figured you did. You and my dad were friends since you was kids."

"Yep, we played together most all our lives. Your grandpapy Deacon had the biggest farm in the county. He also had a passel of kids."

"Yeah nine, that we know of. Not sure if there are any more or not. Deacon was a rounder."

"Yep, he was that. You grandma never even tried to control him."

"Well Ev, I really would like to stay and talk but the sun is up now and I need to be on the move." I really wanted to get away from him.

"Did you ever read your grandpappy's book?" He wasn't going to let me go.

"What book?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

"I didn't think so. Your aunt Ruth has it. You ought to read it before you leave town."

"I don't have time now Ev. I will read it the next time I get home."

"I expect Ruth will let you take it with you. Why don't you stop by her place. It is on the way out of town."

"Why you so hot for me to read his book Ev?" I asked it suspiciously.

"Cause, wasn't none of his boys man enough to be like him. I expect you are though. Heard about the medals you won in France. You really should read that book."

"Okay, you got me curious I will stop by for it." I said it as I stood to leave. I couldn't believe food was so much less expensive in Blacksboro Virginia. The same bacon and eggs outside the base in New Jersey would have been a quarter. The better meal at home was only fifteen cents. I left Ev and my money at the table. I also left the warm cafe to re-enter the cold morning

As Ev had said I had to pass Aunt Ruth's house on the way out of town. I actually passed the house before I noticed the kitchen light. I almost didn't turn around. I did only because I knew the book would haunt me. Grandpappy had always been a fierce figure in my mind. I still wondered what Ev had meant by his cryptic remarks.

Aunt Ruth lived in a gray house. The house wasn't painted gray it had weathered that color. I parked the T in the front yard, then walked to the rear. I knocked on the rear door. I tried to keep the knock down, so as not to wake everyone who might be visiting.

"Eddie, what you a doing here?" Aunt Ruth asked in her unique voice. The voice was a mixture of southern drawl and honey.

"I am leaving town to day. Have to get back." I said it hoping she would overlook the fact that I hadn't been around to see her.

"You want to come in? I got some grits on the stove." She looked hopeful. I don't guess she got much company.

"Sure," I said walking through the old door. "I ate at the diner though." I seated myself at her metal kitchen table. The top of the table was covered with linoleum

"So Eddie, you gonna' make a career of the Army?" she asked it smiling at me. Aunt Ruth had been one of the prettiest women in town, or so my father had said once. She looked that morning as though she might have been at that. Even without her usual make up she had a pleasant enough matronly look. She had never married but according to town lore she slept with almost every man in town. It was whispered that there might have been a woman or two in the mix.

"No ma'am, I am going to resign my commission when I get back. I should be out in a couple of weeks. The Army wants to shrink its officer staff, so I should be out very soon."

"Good, then you will be coming home?" I could see there was a light in her eyes even at her age. Forty seemed old to me at that time. By forty my mother and father were both dead. Of course it was just bad luck I was told.

"It is a shame about your Ma Eddie. Following so close after your dad. Seems this generation is dying off way too fast. When Daddy died, seems like everyone of the boys just followed along. I expect we are paying for the old man's sins." Far from looking sad or angry Aunt Ruth looked whimsical.

"I don't know about that,, but it does seem odd the number of accidents in this family. You are the only one of his nine children still alive." I smiled sadly at her.

"Hell, I wouldn't count on me dying anytime soon. I am the most like daddy. I expect I will live forever, or damn close to it."

"I'll drink to that." I raised my cup of coffee in a toast.

"If it wasn't so early, I would give you a real drink. I got a little hooch." She grinned at the thought of her corn liquor resting safely in a canning jar in the cabinet.

"It is a little early even for me." I looked at the table. I was enjoying the conversation. I actually hated to leave, but I knew I had to be on the road. It was going to be a long trip.

"So Eddie, what really brings you here at 7A.M.?" Aunt Ruth had not been fooled. I could imagine it had been a long time since any man had fooled her.

"Frankly Aunt Ruth, I came to see if you would let me borrow Grand Daddy's book." I expected I was going to have to explain how I knew about it.

"Sure, you have to promise to return it one day. If not in person at least mail it back. Daddy insisted I keep it." Aunt Ruth left the warm kitchen. I was pretty sure the remainder of her house was cold.

When she walked through the door upon her return, I noticed her body. I had known as a teenager that she possessed a very nice body. Thin where a woman should be thin, thick where a woman should be thick. I was glad to see that at forty she still had the body. I noticed her breasts seemed to hang down, instead of pointing out, otherwise her body was exactly as I remembered it.

In her hand she held a leather bound book. It wasn't the size of a book exactly. It was more the size of a ledger. "So this is it." I flipped the book open carefully. It began, "My job on the cattle drive was simple." I wanted to read more, but I knew I needed to be on the road. "Aunt Ruth, I will get this back to you in a week or two."

"See that you do Eddie." She had gotten deadly serious. "I am the keeper of that book."

I nodded as I stood to leave. When I got to the door, I turned to say goodbye. Aunt Ruth was standing close to me. She pulled me to her then kissed me. It was not the kiss an aunt would ordinarily give to her nephew. Aunt Ruth earned her colorful reputation it seemed.

"Just so you remember your Aunt." She said it with a giggle.

Even though she was at least twice my age, I was tempted to stay. Hell, I would have stayed had she not pushed me out the door. I cranked up the old T then started off down the road, but only after I had carefully wrapped the Deacon's book. I had never thought of him as grandfather. I finally realized that he had always been the Deacon to me. I wondered about that as I drove along the road out of town.

The drive took on a boring feel within an hour. There were lots of things to see, but it was going to be a long slow trip. I hoped to average twenty-five to thirty miles per hour. That would make it a two or two and a half day trip. I did not plan to drive all night. The T had terrible headlights.

I stopped later in the morning to purchase a loaf of unsliced bread along with a small baloney. I used my trench knife to slice both. The drive occupied my body but not my mind. I spend most of the time working on one plan after another. I just couldn't get enthused over any of them.

That first day passed with about three hundred miles behind me. Those miles carried me through many small towns. A few of the towns were large enough to have stop lights. Most were no more than a few frame buildings on a slightly better than dirt road.

I pulled into a small Maryland town just before dark. I stopped at what appeared to be the Town Hall. It turned out to be the county courthouse, and included in it were two jail cells. 

"Hello there Deputy, My name is Edward Burke. I am in route to Fort Dix New Jersey." I paused to allow him to speak.

"Well Captain Burke, what can I do for you?" He evidently had either been in the Army or knew something about it. He at least got the rank right.

"Frankly deputy, I am looking for a place to sleep tonight. I have a T model truck and a blanket roll. I just need a spot that won't get me shot by a farmer." I said it with a grin.

"Well, if you got a blanket roll, you could sleep in one of the cells. That is if we don't have to lock nobody up. We don't usually, so you would be pretty comfortable I expect.

"Are you sure?" I asked it because I hadn't expected such hospitality.

"Well, just keep reminding me to leave the door open." He grinned showing me a space where his front two teeth should have been.


A Drink with the Deacon



"In that case how about I go get us some coffee. Is there a cafe‚ around here?" I asked it pretty sure there would be one somewhere. I figured, if the place could support a jail, it would surely be able to support a cafe.

"No need I got a pot on the stove in the back. Course if you need food, there is the Dixie on the next street over."

"Truth is I have had enough of the baloney I bought a while back. I could sure use some real food."

"Then just turn right at the next corner. You can't miss the Dixie it has a big confederate flag in the window."

"Can I get you anything deputy?" I asked it trying to act like I didn't mind. A quarter worth of food would be a fair trade for a bed that didn't belong to him.

"Well captain they do have mighty good pie there. You don't have to mind you, but I wouldn't mind a piece of their pecan pie."

"You got it deputy." I tossed my bed roll and bag into one of the cells before I headed off to the Dixie. I had been in the truck all day so I walked to the cafe. 

"Howdy Soldier boy, what can I get for you?" It was a truly red redhead who asked. The menu was all over the walls in small signs advertising this and that.

"How about your stew?" I asked it as I looked to the wall behind the counter.

"All sold out honey, it is kind of late you know." She maintained that smile of hers.

"Okay, so what do you have left?" I thought it a reasonable question.

"Most everything," she replied.

"Miss," I started to remind her of the stew but decided not to bother. Do you have any beans and franks?"

"Afraid not," she said. She looked about to go on but I stopped her.

I held up my hand. "I know sold out, it is late." I gave her a great big smile to let her know I was kidding. "Tell you what why don't you just surprise me. I can eat almost anything."

"Don't want to do that honey." She was serious I could tell.

"Okay, any soup?" I asked.

"Bean with bacon,": she advised me.

"Good, how about that with a couple of biscuits?"

"Comes with crackers hon," she said as she turned to the rear of the counter. Through the hole she said in a loud voice. "One soup."

"I got some pretty good bacon you want a sandwich?" She asked that as she stood starring down at me.

"I think that would be a bit too much bacon,' I replied. The soup was thick. It was also in some kind of red sauce. The crackers turned out to be very thin biscuit dough cooked crisp. It was quite a good combination. I was almost finished when the waitress took my bowl away. I was about to complain until I noticed her pass it back through the window. "More Horace," she demanded.

She turned to me with the bowl. "Gettin' late nobody else gonna be in here tonight."

I smiled up as I went about eating the soup with the thick soft crackers. When I finished the second bowl I asked, "Could I get a piece of pecan pie to go? It is for the Deputy."

"Oh?" It was obviously a question.

"Yes, I am spending the night in jail." I grinned at her.

"Too bad, you could have gotten a better offer I am sure. You are a good looking guy in that uniform and all."

"Me, good looking." I laughed as I placed the twenty cents on the counter."Is that enough?" I asked it because there were no prices on the walls just names of dishes served.

"Yes it is, and enough for a tip too."

"Good, I wouldn't want to go without leaving a tip."

I left the cafe for the short walk to the jail. I didn't pass another person during the walk. When I arrived at the jail, I asked the deputy. "Where is everybody? The town is empty."

"Home I expect Captain. Ain't no reason for anyone to be here. Only thing open is the cafe and it will be closed in about half an hour. They just stay open for the occasionally traveler like you. Won't hardly be nobody on the roads this late."

"Well, I think I will follow their lead. Enjoy your pie, I am going to read myself to sleep."

"You do that. I am going to go on up stairs I think. I will lock the front door before I go. The bolt is on the inside in case you need to get out." He must have had the same thought I did. I wanted a way out in case of fire.

He took his pie along with a cup of the jail house coffee with him. I knew for a fact that the fire would go out early. He hadn't bothered to bank it. That meant I was going to need the bed roll. I opened it on the small cot in the back of the cell. I placed a shoe in the cell door. Just to make sure it didn't accidentally swing shut on me.

After I was pretty well set, I began reading the Deacon's journal. Five hours later I had finished it. I was absolutely amazed that Deacon had done so many things. I knew he was a fierce old man, but I had no idea he had been a killer. I was more than a little surprised to find that he had written those things down during is lifetime. I didn't suppose, with his daughter holding the book, there was any chance it would ever see the light of day. 

I fell into a troubled sleep around two in the morning. I awoke at five when the deputy entered the room. At the time I was wrapped in the quilt, great coat, and canvas cloth.

"Damn Captain it is cold in here. I would have thought you would keep the fire going last night."

"Sorry Deputy, I thought there might be a fuel ration, so I just wrapped up good."

"Don't matter none it will be warm soon enough." He said it as he worked on the stove. He shoveled out the cold ashes, then added new wood to the fire. He didn't bother with kindling, instead he went to a small can of kerosene. He poured a few ounces in a tin can, once used for beans I expected. After he had emptied the can onto the split logs, he threw in a match.

"Wont be long Captain." He was smiling when he said it. The door opened for a man in the same uniform but with the badge of a sheriff.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked of me.

"Name is Burke Sheriff, your deputy let me camp in the cell over night."

The sheriff looked to the deputy who nodded. "Okay Burke, it is morning now. The cafe is open so go on down and get breakfast. You from around here?"

"No Sheriff, I am headed back to Fort Dix. Was down to Blackwater Virginia for a funeral, I am just passing through."

"Is that your old truck outside?"

"It is," I replied. I was getting tired of him already.

"Well Captain, I don't think you can make it to New Jersey in that thing." He smiled as if he had told me a joke.

"You could be right. If it breaks down, it will belong to somebody else."

"Well like I said, the cafe is open. Me, and Deputy Sykes got things to do this morning, have a good trip Captain."

"Thanks for the Cot." I said it disguising my anger. They both nodded as I left the jail.

I didn't stop for breakfast until I was out of that county. I didn't want the sheriff to come looking for me. I had a feeling something was not quite right with him. I found a cafe in the downtown section of a small place a few miles away. The cafe was not any better than the one from the night before.

At lunch I again stopped at a small grocery for a chunk of processed meat. I hated corned beef ever since the war, but it was easy to find in the small grocery stores. I got lucky, in that store there was also a jar of pickled eggs. 

The afternoon drive was long and boring punctuated only by the need to buy gasoline. The last stop of the day was for Gasoline. When I returned to the T, I was just too tired to go on. I went back inside the store.

"Mister, I need a safe place to park the truck for the night. Do you know anywhere around here?"

"I think, if I wanted to park somewhere safe, I would park in the church parking lot. The first Baptist Church is right down the street about two blocks on the left." The old man didn't seem to be very interested in where I slept. He looked at a newspaper as he spoke. I felt he should have at least have looked up.

I took a quick tour of the town before I parked beside the church. The town consisted of a half dozen brick building plus a few houses. It was a small town, the name of which I didn't bother to take note.

The church was frame and might seat fifty or so people. I parked beside it so as to be visible from the road. I didn't want anyone to think I had anything to hide. I would have enjoyed a nice fire inside a nice building for the night. I had slept in many worse places though. I unrolled the quilt and canvas bed roll. The rear bed of the T was not smooth. I was expecting a very uncomfortable night's sleep.

The two days of travel had exhausted me enough so that I slept surprisingly well. I found a small cafe for breakfast then was on my way again. 

I arrived in Fort Dix at 2:10 P.M. After making my presence known to the company's first sergeant I walked to the dining hall. I was late for lunch but I hoped the cook might get past his hatred of officers. He did to the extent of a corned beef sandwich. It, and the hot coffee were more than enough to win him a couple of points in heaven.

After lunch I began the arduous paperwork required to resign my commission. Leaving the safety of the Army was a bit frightening, but I had no desire to remain. 

The Army had made several hints about my future should I stay. They all seemed to be similar. If I chose to stay until my term of enlistment ended, I would most likely not be allowed to re-enlist. Too many battlefield commissions of younger men frightened the older career officers. 

The young officers, up from the ranks, were not part of the good old boy network. We had no one to help us. The trenches of France just couldn't compare to West Point somehow. It really didn't matter, I was eager to seek my fortune somewhere else.

I had the complete day off since almost all the men of my command were in the field. Hell, they didn't need me to sleep in the cold with them. Besides, the Sergeant ran the platoon anyway, all I did was to pass down the orders. The platoon leaders were even more junior officers passing down orders. It was the Sergeants who led the men into battle. They were the ones whom the men trusted anyway.

I knocked on the door of the company commander. Might as well get it over with. "Come in," the voice of Major Phillips replied.

I saluted like a good little tin soldier. 

"Good morning Burke, I see you made it back."

"Yes I did major. Sir, I have been thinking about the word going around." No sense beating around the bush.

"Which word would that be Captain?" The disdain for me and my breed of officers was in his voice. Phillips was a Point man.

"The one concerning the future of the remaining mustang officers." Might as well get it out in the open, I thought. He didn't even try to deny that it was a serious rumor.

"And what exactly brings you here?" Phillips was being his usual abrupt self that morning.

"I came to being in the paperwork to resign my commission." I said it without a hint of regret.

"Very well, thank you for telling me before you began the process Burke. A lot you didn't bother. If there is nothing else, it is a busy morning around here."

"No sir, that pretty much does it." I saluted again, turned, then walked out the door.

"First Sergeant, I need the forms to resign my commission," I said after I had left the Major's office.

"Captain, are you sure you want to do this. The men tell me you are a damned good officer."

"Yes Top, I am sure." I wasn't sure at that moment at all. I had very little money and no job. It might yet prove to have been a mistake to burn all my bridges.

I had the papers completed before the men returned from the field. I called a meeting of the squad leaders to inform them of my actions. It was lucky they made it in on that third day since I was my last one in the Army. 

Even though I was going to be a civilian at midnight, I planned to sleep on post, and in my own cot that night. I would be leaving the next morning at first light anyway. It was the way things were done even in 1920.

I ate in the dining hall with my men for the last time. I didn't sit at the officer's table I sat with the men who had fought along side me. I am sure the Major was pissed since he insisted on no fraternization. I frankly did not give a damn.

The T held my two duffel bags and bed roll as I left the base. Inside the duffel bags in addition to my army gear rested several souvenir weapons. If worse came to worst, I could sell them for a few bucks. I might have been an officer, but I was not above taking a few things which had once belonged to the enemy, or even the army. Hell, at times the Army was the enemy.

I stopped at the post office just outside the base to mail Grandpa's book back to Aunt Ruth. I had no idea where I was headed next. I gave New York City some thought then decided against it. I had mentioned a friend in Ohio to my family and friends. I could go try to find Jim. Even if I didn't find him, one place was as good as another. I sure didn't want to start my new life in New York. 

The drive toward the small town outside of Cincinnati was a nightmare. It began to snow shortly after I left Fort Dix. I drove for seven hours just to make it one hundred miles.The snow varied from mile to mile thank god. There were enough places with only a few inches to make the places with several inches bearable. When the T got stranded just outside a small town I muscled it off the road. I hooked the duffel bags one on each shoulder then went looking for help. I walked down the closest farm road. 

When I reached the mostly unpainted farm house, I was worn out and more than a little frozen. It hurt to even knock on the door. The woman who came to the door must have been forty but she looked sixty. It appeared that farm life in Pennsylvania was hard on women. 

"Ma'am, I am sorry to bother you but my car ran off the road a couple of miles from here. I was headed for Ohio. I am just about froze up. Could I come in and warm myself by your fire?"

"Well Mister, you can't come in my man is off to town. You can use the barn to get out of the snow though. I think there is a barrel up there, my husband builds a fire in it now and again. You can use it, if you find it."

I was not happy but it beat sleeping in the open back of the T with no heat at all. "Thank you ma'am I appreciate it." I tried to sound grateful. I really was but the warm air coming out the door made me envious.

I was surprised to find no animals in the barn. Surely they were not in the fields in the dead of winter, I thought. Since it was none of my business, I began looking for the barrel. I found a tank which had been cut in half. One of the halves contained ashes from a previous fire.

I took a look at the size of the barn and the size of the barrel. "The fire is going to be almost useless three fee away from the barrel." I said it aloud.

I was too cold to think about a real fire so I built a quick fire from the old straw on the floor. I knew it wouldn't last long. I hoped I would at least get my fingers thawed before it died. As I warmed my fingers I looked about the place. I noted with some interest that the hay loft was empty. Since there were no animals in the barn and no food for any I guessed that the farm wasn't really being worked. The next guess was that the husband had taken a job in town. He had probably been snowed in for a while, I thought. I could imagine that he would be along soon but traveling on foot.

I checked out the wood pile and found it small. There would not be much more than the house would burn during the snow. The man of the place would need to cut more upon his return.

I was still far too cold to be of much use to anyone at all. I looked about trying to decide what my next move should be. I needed firewood for the barrel there was no doubt of it. My best chance seemed to be a small patch of woods across a small field. 

It was going to be a bitch to carry wood across that snow-covered field by hand. Even so I knew that I had no other choice.

The work gathering the wood actually warmed me. My hands were taking a beating, but the rest of me was fairly warm since the great coat contained the heat.

My first load was an arm load of tried branches. They would not burn long but should be enough to get my hands thawed at least. The fire burned for several minutes with just the first small filling of the tub. Even though the smoke was bad, it warmed my fingers. There was some pain as they began to re heat but it wasn't too bad since I had worn my gloves. I had obviously not gotten frostbite. I knew what that was like I had seen it in France.

I made several trips to the woods that afternoon. I increased my wood reserve with every load. It was almost dark when I decided I might have enough to last the night. I knew for a fact I did not want to walk to the woods in the dark. If I stepped in a hole, I doubted the woman in the house would help me. She seemed to be a bit afraid of me, and it didn't matter to me that much. If she had been more attractive, it might have.

The duffel bag contained cigarettes and the remains of the day's bread and cheese. I wouldn't starve but it was not my idea of supper either. I had no water. Even if I did, I would have had no way to drink it. I hadn't stolen my field gear.

The lack of water wasn't really a problem as there was snow everywhere. The problem was going to be in finding a container to melt it. Eating it as snow was a good way to get the cold sickness. I had seen men go into shock from the cold. Once they passed out it was less than fifty-fifty that they would come back.

It wasn't quite dark when I saw the old woman leave the house. She walked toward the barn with a bundle in her hand. I knew that she had to be coming to the barn so I went to meet her. I helped her to battle the wind until we were both inside.

"Oh Lord, I had forgotten how bad this place leaked air. I am sorry mister, but it really is the best I can do. My man would have a fit if you slept in the house."

"I understand," I said it even though I didn't really.

"Look I brought you some things. Maybe they will make it a little better for you up here."

I opened the bundle she handed me. Inside I found some bread and cheese. I would have laughed if I hadn't recognized it as a friendship gesture. The one thing she brought that I could use was a metal cup. It wasn't very large but it would do for melting the snow.

"I thank you for the food, but you should keep it. I have a little with me. But I do need the cup badly." She didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave so I went outside to pack it with snow. 

The snow melted quickly as the cup sat by the fire. I drank the water before it got too warm. It was so good, I repeated the whole thing as the woman watched in silence. She wasn't much of a talker, I decided. She simply stood by the fire watching me.

"I hope it stops snowing tomorrow," she said. It seemed to be her attempt to start a conversation.

"Even if it stops, I am not sure that the roads will be passable. You could be cut off here a few more days." I didn't have any idea why I said it.

"I suppose so, will you be able to get your car out?" She didn't really seem interested. She just seemed to want to pass the time.

"I don't have any idea. I suppose I will try, if the snow stops." I got it off the road so it won't be blocking anything that can make it through."

"I am surprised you had trouble, the snow isn't axle deep, is it?" she asked.

"No I was still rolling as I slid into the ditch. Once I backed up far enough I got her out then onto the entrance of a farmer's field wagon road. The road went into a field, so I don't expect to be in anybody's way."

"No I expect you are fine. Only a complete fool would be out in this." She smiled at me. Her worn wrinkled face softened some.

"Well, I had no idea it was coming. Even if I had, I probably would have tried it."

"Makes no difference why, you are here now." She stood close to the fire for a few more moments the added. "My name is Judith." She kept her eyes on the fire.




A Drink with the Deacon



"Mine is Edward everybody calls me Eddie." I was standing across the fire from her, so I was saved from having to make any kind of gesture. She simply smiled as she continued to stare into the fire.

"Edward, I am going to have soup for dinner. If you would like, I can arrange some for you?" I noticed her eyes were still on the fire.

"That would be very nice. I don't think I have had real soup in the past five years." I looked at her when I smiled. She looked up, caught my eye, then looked back into the fire.

She seemed almost embarrassed as she turned to walk to the house. After she had gone I melted snow several more times before I quenched my thirst.

It was after dark, when I saw the figure with the lantern approach the barn. I opened the door for her. When the woman removed the scarf from her face, she appeared to be much younger but with the same features. It took me a few seconds to realize that the figure standing before me was not the woman but her daughter. I took the pail of soup from her before either of us spoke.

"Hello, who might you be?" I asked it holding the soup pail between us.

"Rachel, Mom sent you the soup. She said your name was Eddie?" she made it a question.

"Yes Rachel, my name is Eddie." I had no idea what else I could say to the young woman. I took a really good look at her. Well, as much as I could from the outside of the heavy coat she wore. She was young, I could tell that much from her face. 

I took the soup and the spoon she offered me. "You don't mind if I eat this while it is warm, do you?" I asked of the girl.

"Not at all," she replied. "I see you are a soldier. Were you in the War?"

"Yes, lately I haven't been doing much of anything though. I just got discharged. I haven't even had time to buy any clothes."

"You probably shouldn't, you are very handsome in your soldier suit." She flashed a smile at me that belonged to an older woman.

She seemed to be in her teens. Late teens, I would hope with that wicked smile she flashed from time to time. If I hadn't been enjoying her mother's hospitality, I might have made a pass at her. As it was, I had to fight not only myself but the obvious hints from her as well. It was a unique position I found myself in. If I did make love to the teenager, I might find myself literally out in the cold. There just didn't seem to be anyway to have the cake and eat it too.

"That is nice of you to say. Won't your mom be missing you, if you stay too long?" I asked it looking toward the house to see if the middle-aged woman was looking out the window. I could see no light escaping from any of the windows. Every window seemed to have its winter curtain covers intact.

"It's okay, mom likes you." Then after another moment of looking into the fire. "She knows how bored I get in the winter. Now with the snow it can only get worse."

She looked up from the fire and I knew. It was her way of paying for an escape from the farm. For just a second I toyed with the idea of taking her up on it. Instead, I decided to talk it out with her. "So don't you have any family or friends you could stay with till spring? You seem to be old enough to go to work in the city."

"I don't have no family, and no friends who would put me up. I just got Ma and my sister Jolene."

"I hope I can be one of your friends?" Rachel said it looking shyly up at me.

"Rachel honey, what is it you really want from me." I asked giving her a hard look.

"Why nothing Eddie," she replied. When she noted the continuing question in my eyes, she went on. "Well, I guess I want to get away from here."

"Well sweetie, I ain't going no place at the moment."

"Will you take me with you when it stops snowing? That is what I really want."

"Honey, I don't have a job. I can't take care of you." I was trying to be honest and discourage her all at the same time.

She was a quick thinker I will give her that. "I don't need no taking care of. I can work and take care of you." She smiled before she continued. "Waitress jobs are easy to come by."

"What would you momma say about your taking off with a stranger?" I was curious as well as trying to give her excuses.

"Momma won't care, she is going to have enough problems this year just taking care of her and Jolene."

"What about your Pa?" I had a feeling I knew the answer.

"Pa ran off in the spring. This old farm ain't much good. Pa just dropped his plow in the field, got in the car and drove away." 

"He didn't even say goodbye?" I asked.

"Nope, just drove off. I must have asked Ma a thousand times, if she knew he was going."

"Well, did she know?" I asked it looking at her with the question in my eyes as well.

"She said, she had no idea. He just up and left. I don't much believe her." All of it was said as she stared into the fire. I was pretty sure she was reliving it.

"Don't your Ma need you to help out?" I asked it trying to convince her to stay. I didn't need a kid tagging along, but I was weakening.

"Eddie, I am just another mouth to feed. I can't farm this place, and I don't know how to do nothing else either."

"How about that waitress thing. You could move into town and send her money."

"This town is too small. There ain't no jobs. I was kinda hopin' you would at least take me to a larger place."

"But how would you live when you did get somewhere? I mean, till you got a job." I didn't plan to get stuck taking care of anyone else.

"Eddie, I got a plan. I know it is going to sound a little crazy to you, but it will work."

"Oh what kind of plan?" I asked it because I was sure a farm girl would have a plan that wouldn't work. I expected it to be a simple girl's dream.

"My daddy has a friend who runs a bootleg club in Cincinnati Ohio. He will pay good money for white liquor."

"Yes, I Expect he would. Any kind of liquor is hard to come by these days." I said it still convinced she was a little touched.

"Well daddy had people in Kentucky who make it. I am pretty sure that is what he took off to do."

"If he did? Why do you reckon he never sent you or your mama any money? Hell, or come back for that matter?"

"I don't know Eddie, but we can make a few dollars doing it, I know. If we do that, then you will have a stake and so will I." She stopped talking. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. The space was so large we were forced to stand over it to stay even a little warm. We were also forced to change positions often to avoid freezing on one side.

"So do you have any money to pay for the liquor?" I asked it expecting more or less the answer I got.

"No, but my kin might let me have it on credit till I can sell it." She looked as though even she knew it was a pipe dream.

"Now Rachel, listen to me carefully. I am not somebody you want to lie too. Do you know how to find these relatives who make the liquor?" I asked it not knowing exactly why I wanted to know.

"We visited my dad's family every fall after the crops were in. We did it for years. I know how to find them. Everybody in that one horse town knows my Uncle Luther." She had her eyes on the fire. 

I gave some thought to walking around the fire barrel to see if I could kiss the girl but decided against it. She seemed young standing in the heavy coat. I had no idea of her age, she could have been anywhere from fourteen to twenty dressed as she was. Her nose was red so her face was distorted. The cold seemed to have her hiding inside the over sized coat.

"Well Rachel, I ain't goin' nowhere tonight, so I got time to think it over. Why don't we both just sleep on it?"

"Well Eddie, I'll sleep on it. You give some thought to having enough money so as not to have to try driving in this kind of weather." It was her parting remark. She didn't make me any other offers. I had to laugh as she walked into the cold. I noted that the snow had stopped as I watched her trudge through the foot deep mess.

I figured I might as well get comfortable. The T did not have enough power to get through the foot deep powder. It was far enough off the road so that any newer cars might pass. With that knowledge I laid out my blankets as close to the fire as I dared. I rolled them over me then lay awake thinking about the young woman. The offer was secondary. In my fantasy, she had the body of a goddess and her stringy hair was transposed into long curls down her back. The red nose was gone replaced by a woman of the world's make up. It was no wonder I slept poorly.

I replaced my boots the next morning before I ventured into the snow.It was cold in the barn making the wood gathering trip necessary. I pulled down dead branches since they would burn the easiest. The snow had stopped after depositing enough to reach the top of my foot high boots. I knew once it melted the wet wool pants were going to be very uncomfortable. 

The fire did little to heat the open barn. I shouldn't have complained since the openness of the place kept me from choking on the smoke. Not long after the fire was going, Rachel paid me another visit. She brought a small metal pail with her. The pail contained oatmeal. The only good thing about it was that it was hot. It also was filling, so I did not complain about the bland taste of it. At home in Virginia it would have been grits, an equally bland breakfast.

I changed into dry clothing, before I spent the day in the barn looking outside. Rachel arrived that evening with her little pail of beans with a slice of bacon on top. I ate the food as I listened to Rachel.

"So Eddie, what do you think? You want to take me along and get rich or leave me and live hand to mouth?" She was grinning like a wolf when she asked.

"I been giving it some thought and the idea does have some appeal. I don't hardly think we gonna' get rich. We might make a few bucks for us to use till we can get situated though. You could just tell me how to find your kin. I would send you a share of the profit."

"No way, the only reason I am going to share with you is that you got a truck. At least you say you got a truck." 

I realized, at that moment, that the girl was pretty worldly to be a kid. "Just how old are you Rachel?"

"Practically an old maid, I am eighteen." She was at least smiling a warm smile. Her smile could change to suit her mood. I wasn't quite sure about it. If it held, I could read her mood easily enough.

"Old Maid, do you mean you have never been with a man. If so, that is okay you know." I said it with a little disappointment. She might be eighteen but she looked younger. The red hair and freckles did that.

"No, I ain't never been with a man." She looked at me smiling. The smile was defiant. I wasn't sure if it was some kind of invitation or not. I decided not to press it. I might have except that I had become interested in her deal.

After a full day of bright sunshine I thought the roads might be in better shape. I returned to the T after the sun had a chance to get high in the sky. There was no sense waiting for all the snow to melt. If I did that, I might be stuck in that barn for months.

As I began my walk down the snow-covered farm road, Rachel emerged from the house running after me. When she got close enough, I waited for her to close the short distance left.

"You aren't trying to leave me are you?" she asked.

"Not hardly, I am going to go dig the T out. Then I am going to come back for my things. You wouldn't happen to know how to drive would you?"

"Sure I can drive. At least I can drive a little." Rachel seemed a little too tentative. She could probably do what I needed done though. It was at least my thinking at the time.

. I had imagined the distance to be farther than it actually was. I expect that it was because the first time I made the trip I had been loaded down with two heavy duffel bags. I found the T within sight of the farm road. It was another thing which I had not realized. It seemed as though I hadn't looked back during my walk to the farmhouse.

Digging the car out was a simple though exhausting task. I set the interior controls then said, "Rachel, don't touch anything. I am going to start the car." I used my stern voice as I did not want her to run over me. Her answer was no more than a nod. It struck me then that Rachel has spoken hardly a word to me. I didn't have time at that moment to ponder it.

I turned the crank. I was extra careful since my footing was not secure. The cold ford caught on the first try. It was a combination of setting the ignition very high and the new plugs I had installed. 

I hurried back to readjust the controls. I adjusted them several more times before I gave Rachel very detailed instructions. With her steering the T and me pushing it finally began to inch its way back onto the road. The engine revved and the tires spun but it did make progress. 

"Stop," I screamed as the car shot back onto the road. Fortunately there was little traffic as Rachel had a bit of a problem applying the brake in time. She almost ran off the road on the far side.

I reached into the car's open interior to set the controls. I set them so that Rachel could slide over while I took her place on the bench seat. I carefully moved the car around the snow-covered road. I managed to back far enough down the road so that I could pull down the farm road.

I loaded my duffel bags while Rachel walked to the house. I wasn't sure what I should do next. The night before Rachel had expressed a desire to leave with me. She had not mentioned it during our work on the T.

I had my little bundle wrapped in the canvas tarp sitting deep in the extended bed of the T. My brother and I had helped Daddy remove the original bed from the T then construct the six foot bed needed to carry things on the farm. That bed was the reason I had wanted the T. It made sleeping in the truck possible. What other things might be possible I was beginning to wonder.

I walked through the snow to the farm house. Rachel's mother came in response to my knock. "Ma'am I will be leaving now. I do appreciate the use of your barn. Is there anything I can do as payment?" I asked it meaning work or money.

"No Captain, there is nothing." She seemed at least peeved, if not angry. "I expect you to take care of Rachel though. If I were a man, I would horse whip you." With those words she slammed the door.

I knew instantly that Rachel had told her something. What, I had no idea. I was tempted to knock again to ask. Then it occurred to me that I just didn't care at all. I didn't expect to be passing through again, so let her think what she wanted. It was how I justified it in my mind. I found that it still bothered me. Ego, I thought as I began maneuvering the T around the snow-covered yard. I knew I would have to work on my Ego problem. It was either that or an ulcer.

I wasn't really waiting for Rachel. At least I didn't think I was. Still, when she rushed from the house with a cardboard box, I was pleased. I guessed she had her belongings in the box. She threw it into the snow-covered bed of the truck.

"Get the hell out of here Eddie," she said it as I put the truck into gear. I drove from the yard. If her mother had objected, I might have stopped. Especially since I wasn't exactly sure of Rachel's age. I knew there was no law against it, but I still respected a mother's love for her child. Without her objections I continued to inch out of the yard. Getting to the highway proved to be no more than following my own ruts in the snow.

"So Eddie, where are we going first?" Rachel asked it as thought the conversation in the barn had never taken place.

"We are going to Kentucky to buy liquor." I said it taking my attention from the road. I wanted to see her face when she responded.

"Then I guess we need to ask somebody how to get to Lexington Kentucky."

"Is that were the family is?" I asked glancing at her as she answered.

"Small town east of there actually," she replied.

"Okay, but let me tell you something Rachel. If this is your way of getting a ride to you ken folks, I am going to be pissed. Believe me little girl, you will not like me when I am pissed."

"You think I want to run away from one hick town to go to another. Give me some credit Eddie." From her, the sound of my name made me seem like a school kid. The child calling me by my first name did something to me. It made it seem as though I were play acting.

"Listen you might as well call me Deacon." Now why I took my grandfather's name I had no idea. It seemed as though the name fit my new profession.

"Did they call you Deacon in the army?" Rachel asked it seriously.

"Yes," I didn't mind lying to the child. She seemed to believe it without any reservations.

"Then call me Red." As she spoke, she removed the navy watch cap that had hidden her hair. Her hair was cut man short and very red.. I noticed for the first time how pale her skin was. Only after all that did I notice her eyes. Those eyes were as green as the jewels the women in Paris had worn. I wondered to myself how I had missed it all earlier. Maybe in the dark barn I could understand, but when we worked to free the truck, I should have noticed.

"All right, Red it is. So Red, I am going to drive a while before dark. When it starts getting dark, we need to find a place to stop for the night.

"That won't be too much longer. It gets dark by five. I think it is probably around two now.

"Well Red, we might make twenty miles this afternoon. I sure can't make much time in this snow. You got any idea what might be up ahead?" 

"The only hotel would be in Harrisburg but we ain't gonna make it there tonight. There will be some small towns between here and there. But none with anything like a hotel."

"Well Red, I didn't figure on a hotel. I plan to save every penny I can to buy liquor. I don't expect your ken folks will trust us without paying for it."

"Well Deacon, I am freezing already. I don't know if I can sleep in the truck."

"It is the wind blowing on you that is making you cold. Take that scarf and put it over your face. It will help."

"How about you," she asked it as she covered her face.

"I have a scarf in the pocket of this horse blanket they call a coat. I will use it when it gets too bad." It was already too bad, but I planned to hold out at least a little while longer. I didn't want to seem soft to her. I have no idea why I cared in the least.

We were probably doing ten miles an hour or less. Still, we were moving steadily onward. My eyes burned from the glare and my fingers and toes were numb. I planed on stopping in the next town, finding a hot meal, and a warm room to eat it in.

The only thing in the town of Priestly of any interest to us was the general store. The store also served as a post office. I parked the truck by the gas pump. I didn't figure we would be blocking it long anyway.

When we entered the front door, I was hit by the hot air inside. Somebody had the old wood stove roaring. It was hard for me to believe the store owner would burn so much wood. Still, I had no plan to complain. Red and I stood by the fire shivering like a couple of wet dogs. I decided that I didn't know how cold I was until I came into a warm building.

"Howdy," I said to the proprietor after I warmed up a little. I shivered as I spoke even then.

"How are you?" he asked without really expecting an answer to the question.

"Cold," I replied trying to smile through chattering teeth. "I need some gas and probably some oil. Most of all we need some hot food. Is there a place we can get some around here?"

"I got gas and oil. I even got as little hot soup, if you want? There is no cafe in town. And none close by either. You surely are not planning to travel after dark are you?"

"No Sir, we are looking for food first then a place to stay." Red suddenly joined the conversation.





A Drink with the Deacon



"Well girly, if we don't have a cafe, we surely don't have a hotel."

"Then sir we will take your gas and Oil. Also some of the soup and anything else you might have around to go with it." I shot a hard look at Red. I figured she had a few words to say about that Girly remark.

"Sure, if you got the money?"

"I'll tell you what friend. You figure about how much five gallons of gas. a quart of oil and two bowl of soup and a wedge of that cheese will cost and I will check." I reached into my pocket. I pulled out the roll of bills that was my mustering out pay.

"Sorry Captain, the girl is pretty young and people steal from me all the time." The man was pulling on a heavy wool coat as he spoke.

He was out the door when I said to Red. "I ain't never stole nothing, but it would be a pleasure to steal from him."

"Why don't we then?" she asked.

I ran it around in my mind. I thought she was kidding at first. After I got past that, I thought about it quickly. "Because we couldn't get away with it." I smiled at her as I spoke. At that moment she smiled back. Her smile told me I had just made a pact with a she-devil. Red walked around the store. I assumed she was looking for things to steal. 

"Could I help you?" the voice belonged to a woman. She was talking to me, but looking at Red.

"As a matter of fact you can. The gentleman outside said there was soup. We could sure use it. I think both of us are froze to the bone." I smiled my disarming smile.

"Sure, have a seat by the fire and I will bring it." She looked at Red when she spoke that time. She was just as distrustful as her husband.

"Ya'll don't like strangers much do you?" I asked it only after I had the soup in my hand. The woman didn't answer she looked away.

"I don't suppose you have some bread and cheese ma'am" I was surprised at the sweet voice coming from Rachel. I had not heard that voice since we left her mother's farm.

The smile the woman gave Rachel was not motherly at all. There were challenges in each one's glare. Well there goes the warm place to sleep I thought.

"I put the five gallons in the truck and half a quart of oil. I see ma got you the soup." The man said it upon his return. Not only were Red and I eating the soup we were eating the cheese and bread.

"Yes and mighty good soup it is." I said it hoping to revive our chance of sleeping in a building. Red glared at me. I didn't expect that she knew what I was doing. Never slap a man you need. One of the first things my Sergeant taught me.

"Thank you captain the wife is a good cook all right."

"Well, we appreciate the fire. I suppose we better be looking for a place to sleep tonight."

"You ain't gonna find much Captain. Nothing around here and nothing before you get to Harrisburg and that is thirty more miles." It was the woman who I assumed was the storekeeper's wife.

"We have a blanket roll, we will just have to sleep in the truck. I can probably find a church to park beside. Cut the wind I expect."

The storekeeper looked at his wife who shook her head. Any hope we had of staying with them was gone. "Tell you what Captain, you ain't likely to find anything around here but I noticed you got rails on that truck of yours. I got a tarp that will fit over it pretty good. It should keep the wind out."

"Actually I need a big tarp. I got a small one but it is not much bigger than a ground cloth. You want to sell the tarp." I asked it knowing he did.

"Well it is new. I keep them for the farmers to cover up hay in the summer. Don't sell none this time of year, so I can make you a good deal in it."

"I know this ain't gonna sound grateful, but how much is a good deal." I smiled to let him know I was not offended.

"Well, let me see. Five gallons of gas is twenty-five cents. The oil is five cents. Another dime for the two bowls of soup that comes to forty cents. How about a dollar and a half for it all including the tarp. I generally get two dollars for the tarp."

"Well it sounds reasonable enough." I lingered by the fire a moment more before I peeled off the bill then found the coins in my pocket.

"Captain, you ought to be careful with that money. There are people around who would kill you for a lot less." He looked like he was talking to a farmer.

"Thank you for the advice." Since he wasn't offering us a place to sleep, I didn't have to be nice anymore. I opened the heavy overcoat, then the officers service jacket. When I put the roll away it was in my shirt pocket. I gave him a good look at the .45 automatic pistol. Might as well get any thoughts of sending a thug for me out of his mind, I thought..

"Don't suppose you would want to sell that pistol?" I was glad he asked. It left no doubt that he had seen it.

"No thanks, it is kind of like an old friend. Used it in France." Now that should leave no doubt in his mind. I waited just a minute to let it all sink in, then I asked, "Do you have any idea where I can park this think tonight. I don't much want to get it stuck up."

"Well you headed toward Harrisburg?" I nodded as he took a breath. "Then about a mile down the road is a ball field on the right. The parking lot is covered in coal cinders. Everybody in town as been dumping them there for as long as anybody remembers. You won't get stuck on them.

Since it was the best offer I was likely to get I nodded. I figured if I had gotten the chill off, Red would also have been ready to move. I ushered her outside then into the waiting truck.

The drive to the town's baseball field was a short one. Preparing the truck for the night was more difficult. The cold fingers made it almost impossible to tie the ropes holding the canvas to the truck. It seemed amazing to me how fast my fingers stiffened once the gloves were removed. It was just as hard to tie a knot with the two heavy layers of gloves. The inner wool glove for warmth and the outer leather one to cut the wind. If you didn't have to tie a knot or pull a trigger the gloves were just fine.

I laid out the bed roll in the back of the truck. The canvas tarp from home was large enough to cover the bottom of the truck and fold over us to help conserve our body heat. Since we would be sleeping in our clothes, a bottom blanket would be unnecessary. I would have slept on half the quilt had I been alone. My heavy wool overcoat I placed over the quilt before I folded the tarp over the top of us.

Red's body heat added to my own managed to keep us from being too uncomfortable. Even so I slept poorly. It had to do with the need to hold Red close so that the bed roll covered us both. When the sun came up we took turns in the privy set up for the games.

The privy seemed to have been recently moved. That and the terrible cold accounted for the lack of a smell while I used it. I was thankful. I had always found the privy smell nauseating first thing in the morning. We began to drive without breakfast or coffee. I took only time to roll up the blankets and canvas. 

The tarp from the farm was almost pure white while the one from the store was green. The one from the store was probably Army surplus. Must of the equipment from 'The war to end all wars' had made it to the civilian sector. The green tarp also still had its waterproofing it seemed. The one I brought from home had long since become simply a heavy piece of canvas.

With all the trappings of a camping expedition put away, we began out drive west. We made it to Harrisburg shortly after lunch. We found a cafe just off the main road. 

The lunch took almost an hour. Most of the time was spent getting warm. The open truck in the dead of winter was terrible.

When we reached the Ohio river, we turned south. Just outside Harrisburg we spent another cold and miserable night in the rear of the truck. 

There had been no further snow fall so we were able to get farther each day than the day before. We followed along the Ohio river for two days then drove due south into Kentucky.

Lexington being the Capitol of Kentucky, was a large town even then. Since it was a large town with several hotels, it was especially hard for us to sleep in the back of the truck that night.

We arrived at a crossroad with the name catnip tacked to a post. From that point the drive to Rachel's father's family home was only a few miles. She could not remember the exact house, so we stopped for directions along the way. The first place we stopped was of no use, the people obviously did not recognize Rachel. We got close enough to the family's house so that someone recognized her father's name.

When we arrived at the unpainted house, Rachel learned that the grandmother she had visited had passed away. We did get to meet the new lady friend of Rachel's father. The father was up on the mountain it seemed. According to the wife he was hunting I was pretty sure that Rachel had been right about the whiskey making.

"Deacon, I had no idea daddy was here. I don't want to see him." Rachel's eyes were dancing.

"Okay Red, I will go talk to him. Let's take you somewhere safe." She looked grateful, though she said not a word. The safe spot turned out to be an aunt and uncle's house. The Uncle was sitting by the fire with his radio blaring. Rachel explained it all to him. Not only could Rachel stay with his wife but he agreed to take me to the still. He seemed genuinely interested in Rachel's welfare.

"Since the kid is a partner in this, I am going to see you get treated fair." He said it after we were on our way up the mountain. "My brother owes her."

He didn't explain and I didn't ask. We parked at the base of the mountain then walked up. "How, the hell, do they get it out of here?" I asked it not believing that anything could move on the steep trail.

"Mule drawn skid," he replied. "They load the corn on it going up and the liquor coming down. We could wait with the car, but I expect you want to get moving."

"Yes, I expect it would be best. I had thought we could stay a few days to rest but Rachel has a really bad fear of her father." I explained.

"Well her daddy is my brother so I ain't gonna say nuthin' agin him, but we will get your liquor then you can take her away from here."

"Well my problem is what if I want to buy more?" I asked it of his back as we climbed the steep trail. 

"Then we will arrange a place for us to meet. I just need to show them you ain't the law. Then you can come here and I will have them bring it to you."

I was so out of breath that I didn't have anything much to say until we were in a clearing. Inside the clearing sat several wooden barrels and a copper still. I had never seen one before, so it was an interesting sight. I wanted to ask questions, but I didn't want to appear stupid.

"John," the uncle said as a greeting to one of the older men. "This here is Deacon Burke. He came to buy some whiskey. He is a friend of the family, I came along to make sure you did him right."

"And to keep him alive, I 'spect." The man stepped forward to take my hand. The two things I noticed were that his hand was rough and calloused and that he smelled even worse than me. I had been on the road for several days. I had no idea, what his excuse might be.

"Could be Jess, either way I brought him and he wants to buy some bug juice." The man smiled at his own joke.

"Don't sell much to the Army," he replied.

"Sir, I ain't in the army no more. I am looking for a way to make a few dollars so I can buy some clothes." I smiled. I made a joke of the fact that I still wore my uniform. What I had told him was the truth. I hadn't had the need for civies, up until a week before.

"You want to buy it here and resell it somewhere else?" he asked.

"I do," I replied.

The old man with the white beard shook his head. Well son, if you know what you getting into, you got balls. If you don't, you should ask before you do this."

I looked him in the eye. "So, what am I getting into?"

"Well son, you buy and their ain't no refunds. If the cops stop you, you go to jail and lose the liquor and your money. It you try to sell it in the big towns the gangs stop you and you are dead. If you try in the little towns, it means a couple of gallons here and there. The longer you have it, the better the chances somebody will catch you. So your odds on winding up in jail or dead are about the same as you making any money doing this."

"Do you tell everybody this or just family friends?" I said it with a big smile.

"Well captain, I don't want you bringing them to me. Matter of fact I hope you can't find me again. If you survive this one, I will bring the liquor to you down the mountain."

"I don't particularly want to make this walk again." I didn't look around any farther. I wanted to buy the liquor and get the hell out of there. "So, how much a gallon?" 

"Dollar a gallon," the old man said.

"Ain't that a bit much?" The speaks are selling it a nickel a shot. Speaks can't be paying much more than that for it.

"They will pay you two dollars a gallon easy," the old man countered.

"You maybe right the risks might make it too small a profit," I said. "That ain't much profit after I take out the expenses. I don't think with the risks you mentioned it is worth it. Sorry I took up your time."

"How many gallons can you take?" he asked. 

I thought quickly about my mustering out pay. I had about a hundred dollars to spare.

"A hundred gallons at fifty cents a gallon." I said it with a serious look.

"You come a long way just to leave empty handed." The old man was a trader for sure.

"Well, I didn't have anywhere else to go." I was determined to stare him down.

"Split the difference, seventy-five cents a gallon?" 

"Done," I said extending my hand to him.

An hour later Rachel's uncle and I unloaded a sled of cardboard boxes. We moved the boxes to the rear of my truck. We had settled on forty gallons. The liquor came packaged in one quart mason jars. Then they were packed twelve jars to a case. The 13 boxes took up just enough room to make sleep in the rear of the truck impossible.

That night Rachel and I slept in her uncle's barn. I was surprised that her father did not come to visit. After supper Rachel and her Uncle made a list of speaks and bootleggers to visit. They made the list twice as long as they thought I would need. None however was closer than fifty miles. It seems they sold that close to home themselves. The next morning Rachel and I left after a breakfast of biscuits sausage gravy and eggs. It was filling, as farm breakfasts usually are. Rachel's aunt filled a cloth sack with biscuits and a small jar of jam for us to take on the road.

Even with a stop for lunch we made it to just outside Covington by night fall. I was surprised that Rachel knew how to find the speak. A young and very large man met us at the door which opened to a hallway.

"What you want?" he asked.

"Got some hooch for sale," I replied.

"What would I want with hooch?" He asked almost convincingly.

"Well they said down in Catnip that you would want it. But if you don't we can move on." I was ready to go when Rachel spoke.

"Uncle Milton said you would want this white liquor," Rachel was trying to be sexy. The heavy coat she wore didn't allow it. I had seen her in her shift dress, she wouldn't have done much better without the coat. She just didn't have a really sexy body. The poor thing's body was as straight as a stick. I had yet to see it of course but there couldn't be much to it. She was flat chested and had no hips at all in the little shift dress farm girls wore. I guessed her age at seventeen possibly. She could have been younger or even a little older. The pale white skin with no make up was deceptive. She could have been fourteen or nineteen. It was just impossible to tell.

"Why didn't you just say you were from Milton? Come around back and we will make the deal." He turned his back on me. I didn't care for the man before after that move I hated him.

When we were outside I said, "I don't trust this man." I took the .45 from under my arm then slipped it into the heavy overcoat's pocket. I pulled the T into the alley. I left it running because the whole thing seemed wrong.

He met us at the back door. "So how much you got. I might just take it all." He looked shifty as he spoke.

I followed his eyes to the shadows behind the building. I made a move as thought to show him what was under the tarp. I managed to put him between me and the shadows. Rachel was pretty much on her own. I was having combat reactions. I knew the man in the shadows would be in a quandary. He wouldn't know what to do. Soon I expected him to show himself. Figuring the gun, he no doubt carried, would freeze me in place.

"Okay you two this is a stick up." The voice came from a man older than me, but not too much older.

I put the .45 to the head of the speak's owner. "Tell you what. Let's both rob him. If you don't drop that gun, I am going to kill him then you." I wasn't sure he would believe me, but if he hadn't, it was my intention to shoot them both.

To her credit Rachel had enough good sense to drop to the ground and out of the line of fire. The man, from the shadows, looked hard at me. I was applying pressure to the trigger of the Colt. It looked as though I was going to have to clean brains off my liquor boxes.

"Back off Seth," the speak's owner said.

"Drop the gun Seth, but don't you even think about leaving." I was pretty sure, If I let him go he would be back. "Now the price for the liquor is three dollars a gallon. How much do you want?"

"I don't want none." The speakeasy owner didn't seem to understand.

"You just tried to rob me and maybe even kill me. I think you want to buy as much as you can afford. It might just save your sorry ass." Somewhere during the statement he understood.

"Take out your money. You do the same Seth." Rachel collected it. 

"Between they the got about twenty bucks," Rachel informed me.

"Okay Seth, take off two of those boxes. Rachel, give them two dollars back. Unlike you Slick, I ain't no thief."

I forced Seth to start the truck. Rachel backed it out of the alley after handing me Seth rusty old .38 Smith revolver. I backed out of the alley to the running T. Rachel drove off with me hanging on to the door open cab of the T, while covering the Speakeasy owner and his thug.

"I am not sure I am going to like the liquor business after all." I said that seriously, but somehow I giggled. Rachel did the same.

"Would you really have shot him?" She asked it with awe in her voice.

"I hope we don't ever have to find out." After a long pause I asked. "So, where do we go next?"

"There is a drugstore, and a hotel on the list. After that it is a couple of bootleggers." 

"Let's see if we can do the drugstore and the hotel first. The bootleggers will be open late. 

It was getting dark when I approached the drug store owner. He again met me at the rear. He bought two gallons at four bucks a gallon. 

I walked into the downtown hotel ten minutes later. "Hello, is the manager in?" I asked it with what I hoped was a pleasant enough smile.

Without being called a middle-aged man appeared from behind the counter. "Sir, I have a delivery for you from Catnip Kentucky." I smiled at him across the counter.

"I see. It has been a long time since I heard from my friend down there. He looked a little concerned.

"Well, if you don't want it, I will return it to him." I began retracing my steps.

"Just one moment sir. Michael find these two a room in the rear. They look as though they could use a good night's sleep." He turned his attention to me. He could tell I was about to object. "There will, of course, be no charge for the rooms. It is the least I can do for the friend of a friend. Why don't you two park your car in our parking lot?"

"To tell you the truth I am a little concerned about the package." I looked him in the eye.




A Drink with the Deacon



"Let me assure you sir. Nothing has ever been taken from our parking lot. There is a fence and a watchman."

"Very well let me park the truck while Rachel goes to the room." I parked the truck then took the two duffel bags with me into the hotel. I left them in the lobby while I went into the manager's office.

"So Mr.?" He made it a question.

"Burke, Deacon Burke," I replied.

"So how much hootch do you have?" 

"Right at forty gallons," I admitted.

"That is a great deal of whiskey. It is going to take you at least a couple of weeks to sell it all." He looked like a man with a plan.

"Yes it is going to be a bit of a bother. I suppose you have a better plan." 

"I have indeed. Since our mutual friend stopped selling his products up here, I have begun to buy from another source. His product is inferior to our friend's product. I suggest you supply directly to him."

"Why doesn't he just go down and get his own?" I asked it because I figured they would want to buy it for peanuts."

"The man is a local distributor of beer and wine. He has little or no interest in whiskey. He would be doing the deal just to have a reliable source of good liquor."

"I will listen to his offer. If it sounds reasonable, we can deal."

"Good, why don't you go to your room clean up? Hell, come have dinner on me. I will call the room when Thomas arrives."

I didn't knock on the third floor room, instead I used the second key to unlock it. I found Rachel stretched out on the bed. She wasn't asleep, she was just there. I went into the small room on the left. I found it to be a bathroom complete with a tub. While the water ran in the tub, I shaved the five-day growth of beard. I made a few more adjustments in the water temperature then lowered myself into the tub.

I washed the dirt and the smell from my body, it took only a few minutes to accomplish. I should have hurried to be ready for the manager's call, but I did not. Instead I leaned back in the hot water to enjoy the feeling. My eyes closed. I suppose I was on the edge of sleep when she spoke.

"Come on Deacon make room for me. No sense wasting the water." I looked up to see her standing naked over the tub.

Rachel was a natural redhead. I had never doubted it. She was also the owner of a body far from perfect. Her breasts were too small. Her hips were slightly too large and her tummy wasn't at all flat but she was till very attractive. Her skin was as pale as chalk with stark red spots here and there. Her hair, her lips, her nipples, her pubic hair and a birthmark on her hip. The birthmark I noticed when she turned her back to me as she climbed into the tub.

She was actually quite safe in the tub since her back was to me. I could not have assaulted her even if I had wanted. The maneuver would have been impossible for a normal man. Maybe a midget, but I somehow doubted Rachel would have been in the tub with a midget. 

I sat with my body push hard against the rear of the tub. In that position she had barely enough room to wash herself. It was so tight in the tub she asked, "Would you help me?" With those words she handed me the wash cloth.

I first washed her back. Then the cloth slipped around to the front. I washed her breast. The soapy cloth glided over her nipples. Rachel responded with a moan. The cloth moved farther down her body while she continued to breath hard. We were both being lulled into a fog. The fog was created as much by lack of sleep as by sexual desire.

The phone saved one of us or maybe both of us. I left Rachel soaking in the tub while I went to answer. "Hello," I said it into the mouth piece while I held the earpiece against my head.

"Mr. Burke, I have the meeting set. Mr. Severs will be in the dinning room in fifteen minutes." I recognized the manager's voice.

"Fair enough, I assume you will be there?" It was a question that needed asking.

"Of course," he replied simply.

"Red, get a move on we need to get downstairs right now." I suddenly heard the words of the old man at the still ringing in my ear. The cops will lock you up, and the gangs will kill you.

I dressed quickly while Red did the same. I got to watch her slip into the cotton drawers she wore. The petticoat looked worn but clean. Over it all she slipped a shift dress just like the one she had taken off.

"You know anything about guns?" I asked it not expecting much.

"I done some hunting with my dad before he run off." She didn't seem anything but curious.

"In that case you get this." From the duffel bag I had not previously opened I removed an ugly little automatic pistol. It was a Mauser with an eight shot magazine. I stripped a clip into the piece then handed it to her. I quickly showed her where the safety was located.

"What is wrong Deacon?" Rachel asked it with a frightened look on her face.

"I think we are about to be highjacked and maybe killed. We are going down first to move the truck. Then we are going to that meeting, but we are going to be ready for a fight. All you have to do is make noise. You don't have to hit anything. You can point it at the ceiling for all I care. Just get behind something and make some noise.

We slipped down the three flights of stairs at the rear of the building. Once on the street I found my way back to the parking lot. The guard didn't seem concerned at all when I drove the truck away. I parked the truck two blocks from the hotel, then we walked.

The dining room was more or less empty. The one other couple seemed to be finished. They sat quietly smoking while drinking coffee. The manager sat with a man a few years older than either of us. They both kept an eye on the door. It was not a good sign, I decided. Rachel and I crossed the room to sit with them.

I removed the .45 from my belt while Red diverted their attention. The pistol was hidden from view by the long tablecloth. The two men waited until the waiter had come and gone before Severs spoke. 

"So Deacon," he seemed very confident. He might not have been so confident had he known the .45 was aimed at his belly. "Thomas here tells me you have 50 gallons of whiskey for sale. He also tells me you can get more."

"Let's take care of this 35 gallons I got right now first thing," I suggested. I could tell he didn't like the idea of me trying to steer the conversation. Nobody spoke again until the waiter deposited our food onto the white table cloth.

Rachael followed my lead as we tore into the roast beef. We both ate it and the mashed potatoes while we watched Severs and the empty dining room.

"You seem hungry," the manager said.

"Well we haven't had all that many good meals lately. By the way this is excellent." I said it as I reached for the coffee cup.

"Glad you like it. Now about that whiskey." Severs was beginning to tire of the game. I knew we were about to find out how the play would go down.

"What about it?" I asked.

"How much for the whiskey?" Severs asked.

"How much of it do you want?" I asked.

"All of it of course," he replied.

"Two hundred bucks and I will throw in the extra two cases." I was fully prepared for what happened next.

"I don't think so," he suggested.

"Well then, I will just be forced to sell it myself." I smiled at him.

"I can't let you do that. I distribute all the alcohol in this area."

"Well, it is only a few cases, I expect the buyers will be back buying from you within a week. It really ain't enough to die over."

"You don't understand. I can't let you do that."

"Then buy the whiskey for the two hundred bucks." I watched as his eyes got hard.

The man who walked up behind me didn't count on Rachel. She had the gun pointed at him before he could get his up. I had mine on Severs. I expected the others were across the street trying to find the hootch. 

"If you force me to do it, I will kill you all. I have no qualms about it whatsoever. I killed a hell of a lot more men in France. So, have your man put down the pistol."

I give Severs one thing he was cool under pressure. "Maybe you can, but how about the woman."

"Do anything, other than what I say, and you will never find out. You will be dead before the man behind has time to make a move."

"Put the gun away Mike," he ordered.

"Not good enough, I want the pistol on that table. Then I want him on the other side of it. Do it now." 

"Do it mike." I noted with satisfaction that some of the cool was leaving him.

"I figure you are stealing my booze while we sit here. So here is the deal I want two hundred bucks for it now."

"You are nuts," Severs said.

"Two hundred or I am going to splatter your brains all over the wall." I gave him a wicked smile. "Go in your pocket and come out slow." I kept my eyes on the doors behind Severs. If there had been more, they must have been waiting for a signal of some kind. It was never sent. Severs decided to go along and live. What would happen after he was safe was another thing all together.

From his pocket he removed his wallet. "Count out two hundred," I demanded.

For a big time crime boss I was surprised he carried so little money. "One hundred and five dollars is all I have."

"Pretty damn sad for a man in your position. Thomas cough it up. You can get it back from your friend when he sells the booze.

Thomas of course emptied his wallet. He carried only twenty-five dollars which was a lot of money for a man to carry in those days. Probably his days skim from the hotel.

"You," I said to the man standing across a table from me. "Bring me your wallet and empty it on the table." Severs nodded. From the wallet he removed five dollars.

"Damn for big-time gangsters, you surely don't have much money. You are still seventy bucks short." Since you didn't take it all, I am going to have to raise the price to five dollars a gallon. You get twenty-six gallons of hootch for your money. Now Thomas, I want you to walk to the door of the dinning room call the bellboy have him pack my duffel bags then bring them here.

The wait seemed longer than it was. When I had the bags, I forced Sever's goon to heft them. I stayed far enough away so that he could not use the bags as weapons. He had no idea of the fire power hidden safely inside one of the bags. He did know it was heavy as hell because he huffed and puffed as we quick stepped to the truck. He, Severs, and Thomas led the way.

When we arrived, I demanded that the three of them take off nine boxes. It was the amount of hootch they had paid four plus one extra gallon. It didn't seem like a good idea to stand on the street while they removed the extra gallon. 

Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure. As I said it, I checked Severs for a weapon. Since nobody had one, I forced the goon to start the truck. As before Rachel drove the truck while I covered them through the open door. They were so far from their cars we had a good head start on them. Rachel drove very well for a novice. After several bad turns she finally found the signs to the highway, such as it was. We headed off back towards West Virginia.  

"You know Deacon the liquor business is a lot more work than I thought, not to mention the danger." Rachel made the observation as we drove into the Kentucky night.

"Well. it ain't as dangerous as trying to empty a German trench, but it ain't a picnic in the park either." I looked to my right at her then smiled.

"You are enjoying this aren't you?" She didn't just chuckle the laugh was the release of tension.

"I suppose so, I hear some people never get over the feel of combat." I was enjoying her obvious release of tension.

"Well, I could get used to this. Why don't we just drop the liquor end of the business and rob these goons?" Rachel suggested.

"Sorry, I am not really a thief. I do have some morals you know." I was serious until she broke into laughter. I had to join in, it did sound ridiculous in light of what had just happened.

In every town large enough to have a drug store we sold the liquor. The druggist would make his purchase from the back door. We sold it almost in bootlegger sized lots. Just a couple of quarts at a time. The profit was more but the miles in between were greater. By the time we reached Huntington West Virginia, we were down to only half a gallon. The sale of the last two quarts went to a druggist there.

Rachael and I sat in a cafe to divide the money. I removed all the expenses from the trip before I made the split. Even so there was over a hundred dollars to divide.

"Well Rachael that will hold you for a few months." I said it since I didn't know what was in her mind.

"Yes it will, what do you plan now Deacon?" She asked it in a tone I could not read. 

"I am going to drive to that hotel in the center of town. I plan to check in so that I can sleep for a week. I have been cold and tired too long. She should have recognized the red eyes, if not my stumbling walk.

"Would you mind some company? I mean we are, kind of, partners in all this."

"We were partners in one deal dear. That deal is over."

"Well, we could be partners again, couldn't we?" The look on her face told me she wasn't nearly as independent as she thought. She simply did not want to be alone in the world.

"Tell you what Rachel I will give it some thought. In the meantime I need a bath and to sleep for a week."

"We could share a tub and a bed." She had a hopeful look on her young face. She really did not want to be alone. I couldn't say that I blamed her much. The world didn't really offer all that much for a woman. I nodded as I stood to leave that table. The hotel was across from the docks but it wasn't a dive. It was in fact a very nice family kind of place. I guess it looked to the staff as though I had stolen someone's daughter. The clerk who sat behind the desk and in front of the open manager's door spoke first,

"Yes Captain, may I help you?" He looked a lot like a man with a dirty mind. The sneer on his face should have sent me quietly on my way without a word.

"We need a room for a couple of days," I replied.

"Ah, you and your wife?" It was a question. He wasn't trying to be helpful.

"Sure why not," I replied smiling. I was hoping I could bluff it out.

"Surely, that will be two dollars a day. I just need to see your marriage license." He made no move to turn the register to me.

"I see, well you know we don't travel with that in hand." I looked him in the eye, but I knew it wasn't going to do any good.

"I am sorry Captain, it is hotel policy for me to see the license before I rent to couples." He had stopped the phony smile even.

"I see," I decided not to give him hell. It would only have made him angry. I also decided not to pay him the extra two bucks for a second room. What I did do was to lug my two duffel bags out the door.

I said to Rachel "You wait here with the bags." I left the two bags beside the door as I turned toward the truck.

"Hey Captain," the voice came from a little man in a uniform of sorts. I knew he was the bell captain. Rachel just looked frightened.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" I asked.

"Nothing for me, but I might be able to do something for you. There is a hotel to blocks down. It is down nearer the river. It is smaller, but it is clean. Since there ain't so much river traffic no more, it is kind of quiet now. If you like, I can call the desk clerk. You won't have any trouble there."

"Sure why not? We just need a place to sleep for a couple of days." He gave me directions to the hotel in exchange for a nickel tip.

The Clerk was happy to see us when we arrived. He greeted me with a pen and the register. The Dollar Fifty I paid him might have been a bit more than an older couple would have paid, but I didn't mind at all.

There were bathrooms as either end of the hallway. Each pair of bathrooms serviced ten rooms. It would have been a good ratio except maybe early in the morning on a day when the rooms were filled. On the day we moved into the hotel, the rooms were almost all empty. We pretty much had the bathrooms to ourselves.

I bathed in one room and Rachel in the other. I soaked a little longer than I needed but I was comfortable and warm for the first time in weeks. For some reason I had the .45 on a chair by the tub. I supposed that the couple of days of danger had me shook. Until I began the trip, it had been a while since anyone had pointed a gun at me.

When I returned to the room, Rachel was already in the bed. The one bed was a double so there was room for me. I slipped off my pants then moved the covers. What I saw made me removed my underwear as well. Rachel lay naked under the covers. Even her less than perfect body felt wonderful to me. It had been a long time since I lay in bed holding a female body against me. The things that one would expect happened. Rachel did not protest at all. In fact she encouraged me by both word and deed.

I absolutely hated the idea of leaving the bed again that day. Somewhere after dark Rachel woke me by saying she was hungry. She shook me until I dragged myself from the bed. I slipped on my wool trousers then went to the bathroom. Rachel slipped on her shift with no underwear. While I used one bathroom, she used the other. The whole floor must have been empty.

Unlike the fancy hotel, the Admiral where we stayed did not have a restaurant. However there was one a few doors down. The food was good and probably half the price of the Hotel's restaurant. After dinner we returned to the Hotel to again fall asleep in each others arms. The night passed quickly since it was a series of sex episodes followed by sleep cycles.

The next morning after breakfast Rachel and I went shopping. New clothes for both of us seemed to be a necessity. I bought two pairs of rough wool work pants. Three heavy weight cotton work shirts. Those along with wool underwear completed my purchases. I had plenty of shoes and boots left from the army.

Rachel bought long straight skirts with sweaters to go along. She also bought wool underwear. I suppose she planned to go along with me, on whatever my next venture might be. My purchases came to just over ten dollars while Rachel's came to about thirteen. 

I looked at myself in the mirror when we were back in the hotel. I looked strange even to me, the colors seemed to be all wrong. The soft wool coat wasn't right it had the wrong cut about it. Not only that, it was tweed for god's sake. Rachel laughed at my ranting. I actually laughed with her but I couldn't stop. The new hat felt light on my head. It was one of those soft things that sailors wore on cold nights. Not the white dress hat mind you, but the watch cap. The one I bought was green not blue. It was plenty long enough to cover my ears. The ears had been the reason for the choice. Nothing like a couple of hours in the open truck to convince me that my ears needed protecting.

"Okay Deacon, we have made love, slept, and bought new clothes. So what are we going to do next?" Rachel asked it after she laughed at my new look.

"Well we made a few bucks with the liquor thing. Do you want to give that another try?"

"We almost got killed trying to sell it. If we could sell it safely, and all at once, I would go for it. Or if they came to us to order in advance, then I would do it. The selling of it is the risky part."

"We could sell to that distributor I guess," Rachel suggested.

"We really should just take over the liquor business. He can have the beer and wine business, if he wants it. Otherwise, we just put him out of business." I was thinking out loud.

"He has a gang Deacon. He will kill you," Rachel seemed concerned. She probably didn't want to be alone. It was just a thought. I didn't have much faith in her or anyone else.

"Well his gang probably never saw a war. It is one thing to shoot a man in the back of the head. It is quite another to walk into this." While I spoke, I removed the contents of the second duffel bag. The ugly looking chunk of steel was called a Lewis machine gun. The round magazine sat on top of the gun. The round it fired was larger and heavier than the Thompson gun.




A Drink with the Deacon



"Those guys think the Tommy gun is hot stuff. This Lewis will shoot through walls. I expect they never even heard of this thing." 

"Deacon, what do you have in mind?" Rachel looked nervous.

"Well, I think I am about to decide not to freeze my ass off, just to make a hundred bucks." I looked at her with a stupid grin on my face.

"Deacon, if you are planning to fight the gang up there in Cincinnati, I am going to take my share and find a job working in a cafe. You will be very dead, if you mess with them."

"I don't think I will be dead. I think, if I kill that slimy bastard that tried to rip us off, the others will fall in line. I might have to kill a few of his people, but it should end there."

"It will be never end, they will keep on coming for you. You will never be able to enjoy the money. Deacon, it is foolish to even think of that." Rachel seemed a lot older while she spoke.

"How do you know so much about it?" I asked it seriously.

"My dad has been involved in this business for years. He ran liquor up from Kentucky since 1918. Some of the liquor men tried to sell direct like we did. Most of them got killed."

I filed the information away before I spoke. "You are probably right." I spent a few minutes cleaning and oiling the Lewis. I cleaned and oiled all the weapons while I listened to her.

Rachel honey, I don't mind risking my ass for money. I think, I would feel better risking it for a lot more money. " I saw the tiny smile cross her lips. I seemed to read her mind. "Yes, I have risked it for a lot less than we made by selling the liquor."

She nodded as if understanding that I had read her mind. "Well Deacon honey, I don't know much about anything except farming and the liquor business. If you do anything else, I will just have to trust you." Somehow I didn't like the idea of losing her money on some far out venture. I liked the idea of losing my own even less. Running liquor though dangerous was also a safe capital investment. As long as I could protect the product, there was a market for it. The logistics of it all seemed to be the basic problem.

Rachel and I began venturing out again on the second day. I had a plan but didn't know enough to even think about making any positive moves. The first part of my plan called for learning about the river. A river front bar frequented by the sailors seemed a good place to start. I left Rachel home while I did the research. I figured with Rachel in tow I would spend more time defending her than learning.

I found a place across from the wharf called the river rat. Not too surprisingly the bar was empty at ten A.M. The bartender was a wealth of information though. The river boats made stops up and down the river moving from Pittsburgh to New Orleans. The boats stayed anywhere from and hour, to overnight. The river boats did not travel at night because the river was filled with floating logs. The logs could take the bottoms out of most of the old boats. Some of the newer steel hulled boats would risk night time travel. They usually towed metal barges behind or pushed them ahead.

It pretty much looked like the river idea, which I had been fermenting was going to prove a bust. I finished the beer then walked out of the place after leaving a dime on the bar. I stood on the dock in the cold air looking at the boats tied up at the wharf. There weren't many standing idle even on the winter's day. I stood for a few minutes hoping to catch sight of a boat on the river. I just didn't see anything moving.

I did see a boat of about thirty feet tied up to the wharf. The boat looked run down to my untrained eye. It was dirty and in need of a paint job for sure. The small wooden shack on the end of the pier bore the sign 'Harbor Master'. I wanted to laugh but new better. The small dock could in no way could ever be mistaken for a harbor. It had to be somebody's idea of a joke.

The shack held one desk. On the disk resided a giant ledger and a candlestick telephone. The man sitting in the wooden chair with rollers had to be fifty or more. "What can I do for you, young man?" 

"Looking for some information about river shipping. Just general stuff," I replied.

"Well I will do what I can but I am not a representative for the shipping companies. I simply control the flow from the boats to the dock then get them safely on their way again."

"I see. Well, what I want to know is so general you can probably help." For the next thirty minutes I asked him questions. He was a wealth of information. I learned first of all that I could not depend on the established shippers to carry the liquor from town to town. The boats were not at the docks long enough for me to find buyers. I almost left after I got that information.

"If you are willing to pay a little more? There is always the small pack boats. One of those you could hire for yourself. They can be hired by the day." The harbor master was trying to help. I had a feeling I would take a beating in the cost if I did that.

"Could I just buy one?" I asked.

"Yes you could, but then you would likely find it and your cargo on the bottom of the river. You see this old river is filled with snags, floating logs and moving sandbars just to name a few boat killers. Your money would be better spent hiring a small boat. Preferably one with a first class captain. You might also want to consider insurance."

As I left, I thanked the older man. I walked back to the hotel thinking through it all. I had all the arguments down when I arrived. I just hadn't made any decision. Rachel was waiting for me in the room. She had been sleeping when I left. I found her dressed for the day when I returned.

"So are you hungry?" I asked it as I moved about the room.

"Sit down Deacon. I promise I won't bite you while you talk to me." Rachel was smiling that grown up woman's smile. The one she borrowed from some other person surely.

"Sure," I replied as I fell into a chair. "What you want to talk about?"

"Do you have any idea what we are going to do next?" 

"I thought a late lunch might be nice, then maybe a movie." 

"Come on Deacon, you know what I mean." Once in a while she looked right through me. It was one of those occasions.

"Rachel, yesterday we were freezing our ass off selling liquor from the back of an old truck. You think you might be able to just take it easy a whole day?" I smiled at her as though she were a child.

"Deacon, where have you been? Have you been taking it easy?"

She had me and I knew it. "No I have been down to the docks."

"And why have you been down to the docks?" She asked the question seemingly a little miffed.

"I was trying to get some information." I couldn't keep the idiot smile up much longer. I was about to tell her to back off.

"So?" It was the last straw. She looked at me as if I were trying to steel from her.

"Listen to me Rachel, if I put another deal together, you can buy in, if you want. Until then, I will tell you what I want, when I want." I expected her to fly off the handle.

"Get this straight Deacon. If the deal includes liquor, you need me. If it don't, then I still got some money to put into the deal."

"The money has value Rachel, but don't become a pain in the ass. It might outweigh your money." I snapped it at her.

"Why you prick, you wouldn't even know the deal was available without me. You were headed off to be a carpenter."

"Well carpenters don't get shot at." I said it smiling at her.

"They also don't stay in hotels with pretty women." She smiled back. "Deacon honey," She had changed her tone. "You know it ain't just the money."

"What is it then? You surely don't expect me to believe it is love. You wanted off that farm, and I was your ticket. You slept with me to pay the fare."

"In that case, I won't be sleeping with you again." She was huffy even while sitting on the bed. "I am sure the fare is paid by now."

"When the ride ends, the fare is paid." Not even I knew what that meant.

"You mean, if I stay your partner I have to do it with you." She was angry.

"No, I don't mean that at all. If you are willing to pay your own expenses then the ride ends. It is just a business thing. If you don't want to sleep alone, then it isn't a partnership."

"There are plenty of empty rooms in this hotel. I don't have to stay in yours you know." She was down right huffy about it.

"I do think that might be a good idea. When I put together a deal, I will offer you a chance to buy in."

"What if I am the one to put the deal together?" she asked. 

"If you are, then let me know." I tried very hard not to flash the condescending smile, but I knew I had failed miserably.

The deal I had in mind required a lot of little pieces and one large one. Before I went for the large one I needed to know the small ones were available. The broad strokes of the plan were simple. Rent a boat, fill it with white liquor then peddle the liquor from town to town along the river. 

The river on first viewing seemed like a stupid idea. With a little more thought it made sense. My number one concern, after that first venture, was security. Protecting the truck was a royal pain. I had seen that during our stay in the fancy hotel. Protecting the boat would be easier while traveling, and easier while docked. I had a lot more firepower than the bad guys. I figured I could quickly ruin any hijacker's day. 

I didn't think that finding a boat would be especially difficult. The other parts of the plan just had to be worked out. After lunch I took a not so thrilled Rachel on a tour of bicycle shops. In the second one I found a heavy framed bicycle. The bike was used, and was also covered in surface rust. The shop owner cleaned a spot for me. He used a very fine steel wool for the task. Almost all bicycle shops of the day sold small helper engines for the bicycles. The helper engine was small, noisy and not very powerful.

When the owner of the shop proudly explained that the power bike would do five miles an hour, I lost any interest I might have had previously. I knew that five miles an hour just wouldn't do. He could probably tell from the way I shook my head that I was no longer interested.

"The reason the bike is so slow," he began. "Is that the drive is friction on the wheel. In order to get any real speed it has to drive the chain. When you get to that point you are past the Bicycle and into motorcycles."

"So where do I go to see a motorcycle?" I asked.

"I have a used one in the shop. Fellow brought it in for repairs then couldn't pay for it. Want to take a look?"

"Sure," I replied. I had seen dispatch motorcycles in the army. They were large heavy bikes that could fly over the roughest roads. The motorbike he showed me was much lighter with smaller tires. The engine looked no bigger than the helper engine in the shop's display case.

"How fast will it go?" I asked.

"It will probably do thirty miles and hour top speed, if you were foolish enough to do it. It will cruise at twenty for sure. The damn thing gets about a hundred miles on a tank of gasoline. The tank, don't hold a gallon even." 

"Could I ride it?" I asked it while looking the little bike over.

"Well, I don't know you mister. It would be mighty easy for you just to ride off with it."

"Yes it would. How about I leave you the price of the bike. That way if I don't come back then we are even." The man smiled ear to ear.

"Fair enough, I want one hundred dollars for it." He looked wolfishly at me. He obviously would take less but there was no sense arguing with him till I tried the bike out. He wrote me a receipt for the money before I would give it up.

"I rode the bike around town. I even took it out to ride up and down the hills a bit. Like everything else of its time, it lost a lot of power going up the hills. Still, the performance was satisfactory. The number one problem was the cold. The rushing wind would absolutely freeze your ass off. If the owner hadn't given me a pair of riding goggles I would have been blind from the cold wind.

"Well," I said upon my return. "I think if it wasn't the dead of winter I would be interested. As it is, the thing is just too much for me."

"To tell you the truth mister you are right. I don't expect I will sell that bike till spring. I need the money right now. Would you take it for ninety bucks."

He had my hundred bucks and he didn't want to turn it loose. "I still don't think I could ride it until spring and I really need something to get around on now."

"There is a couple of things you can do to ride it now. But if the cold is too much for you I guess it is too much." He said it but didn't make a move to return my money. I could tell he had at least one more trick up his sleeve. "Tell you what Mister I really need to get rid of that thing. You give me seventy-five dollars for it and it is yours."

"Well it is a fair price but I still couldn't use it." I tried to look like I was going to walk just to see if he had another offer for me.

"Well it is the best I can do but I can tell you how you can ride it this winter, if that will help?'"

"Oh, I would like to hear that," I said it expecting about what he said.

"You buy yourself a second larger pair of long johns to wear over your regular ones. Then you buy yourself a heavy railroad worker's coveralls."

"Yeah that might work," I replied.

"Then get you one of those wool knit caps the sailors wear and a canvas hat with a strap to cut the wind. Wear all that and you will be fine. Course, you won't be dressed for the ball." He seemed to enjoy the image he had created in his own mind.

"All right, you got yourself a deal." He must have known I wanted the bike. He had stayed with the sale even past the point at which I would have given up.

It was a handful but I did manage to get it into the bed of the truck alone. The chain and padlock had been purchased from the bike seller. I might have insisted he give me one but I felt sorry for him. Not that he hadn't made a profit on the bike but he did have to work hard for it. I covered the bike with a tarp before I returned to the hotel. 

When I entered my room, I found Rachel had gone. Where she was, I had no idea. I expected she was in a room nearby. I wasn't especially worried. I remembered how to find her uncle's farm. I lay down on the bed to rest. I wasn't tired but I did need to think.

I had a pretty good idea about the boat so everything seemed to be set. My final problem of the day was that I just didn't like the way the liquor was packaged. Quart-sized glass mason jars did not seem to be a good way to move it. It was a minor problem at best.

I didn't see Rachel again until the next morning. She seemed to be avoiding me. I suppose she felt it would tend to improve my disposition. If it that was her intent, it was a waste of time. Rachel was a bit of a bother while I was making plans, but then anyone else would have been as well.

Rachel stopped by before I was ready. She stayed in my room while I did my morning bathroom thing. When I returned, we went to breakfast at the small cafe near the hotel.

Afterward, we braved the cold to walk the two blocks to the wharf. The small dirty steam driven river boat was tied up where it had been the day before. Since the boat had no cabin, it was clear that she stood empty. I wouldn't have expected anyone to be sitting in the open boat as cold as it was. I made my way back to the Harbor Master's office so that I might inquire as to the owner of the open boat.

"Hello," I said to the man behind the desk who was busy with a coffee cup as I entered. Judging from the broken veins on his cheeks and nose it was my guess that it contained more Canadian then Colombian. I had a good feeling about him and the bootlegging business. "Could you tell me who owns that boat?" I said it pointing to the old boat tied up at the end of the pier.

His window was low and it overlooked the dock. He needed to do nothing more than glance to where I pointed. "The man who operates that particular piece of junk wouldn't make a good seaman on a river boat." He looked disgusted as he took a sip of his 'coffee'.

"Really, how did he come to own a boat then?" I was trying to figure out if the Harbor Master hated the captain or if his was a fair evaluation.

"His father died." The Harbor Master seemed to think that was explanation enough.

"You mean he has no experience with boats?" I asked it trying to remember exactly why he had said I should not buy a boat.

"Oh he worked on the boat with his dad for a few years, but that does not make you a captain young man." He looked as though he wished to dismiss me. I was a bit thicker skinned than he imagined.

"Yesterday you assured me an inexperienced operator would surely sink his boat, so is this man capable of getting me around on this river or not?" I asked looking at the man as if I expected him to lie.

"The man accompanied his father up and down the river for years. His father hardly made a living with the craft. He is not even doing that much." The Harbor Master was again sure I had been dismissed.

"Well, just for the hell of it, where could I find the man?" 

"If he is not at the River Rat, he might be swelling home brew at the Pit." The Harbor Master said it not bothering to look up.

"Who should I ask for?" I demanded.

"Skip Evers," the Harbor Master said shortly. I had lost my good feelings about the man.

As I left, I was debating whether or not another drunk on the team would be advisable. Actually there was no team, so it was all simple conjecture.

From my last little adventure in the whiskey business, I knew that a safe distribution system was vital, if I planned to continue. Losing my money was not an option which I took lightly. Killing people to keep what was mine was no more than Grandpappy Deacon had done, when he hired on to kill for money. In my case it would be killing for my own money.

I walked to the Pit but found it almost empty. "Hi," I said in greeting to the over painted middle-aged woman behind the counter.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"Black coffee please," I replied. When she returned with the heavy cup I asked, "Either of those guys Skip Evers?"

"No, Skip ain't been around last couple of days." 

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Got in a fight."

"Did he break up the place?" I asked it looking about. I didn't see any apparent damage.

"Not really, just got his self beat a little. Had to leave with his tail between his legs." 

"I see." I sat over my coffee thinking about that. I wasn't sure that I wanted to partner up with a loser. Then again, I needed his boat not his muscle. He didn't have to fight for my booze, but I couldn't be looking out for him either. In the end I decided I needed his boat bad enough to overlook the fight business. "So, where might I find Skip?"

"If he ain't messin' with his daddy's boat, you might try Reno's place. He goes there when he owes us too much money to come here."

"Thanks," I said it putting the nickel on the counter for the coffee. I put a second one down for the information. People who sat at the counter did not ordinarily tip waitresses.

The Reno's was even dirtier than the pit, if that was possible. It appeared to have a shroud of coal smoke hanging in the room. That was in addition to the fog of cigarette smoke.

The man behind the counter was a fat, ugly, mean looking son of a bitch. The pit seemed to be one of those places where they hired the employees for their ability to toss a drunken river boat sailor out the door.

I decided that being nice to him was a total waste of my time. "Skip Evers?" My tone made it a question.

He was about to open his mouth, which would probably have caused a problem. I had taken an instant dislike to him, even thought he was bigger and probably badder than me. I had the .45 hung under my arm so I wasn't worried.. There were not many men who could keep coming after getting hit with a slug from one of those monsters. I didn't expect there to be very much of an ouit cry, if I killed the man with the tattoos.




A Drink with the Deacon



"I'm Skip." The voice came from behind me. The thug at the counter kept a close eye on me as I half turned to skip. I only half turned, so as not to give my back to the tattooed heavy weight behind the low counter.

"Need to talk to you about your boat, but not here," I was acting a lot more confident than I felt at that moment.

"Come on, we will go down to her." It was a good suggestion. 

I nodded my agreement. Once he stood, I could guessed how he got his ass whipped. The man was probably in his thirties, but he was small. I mean real small. He was probably five five and that was giving him the push. Worst of all he was light in the ass. Even in the heavy wool coat he looked like a stick drawing of a man. 

When we cleared the door of the pit, a cold wind slapped me around. I decided the boat might not be a good choice after all. "Let's go a couple of blocks to the cafe down the street." It wasn't as much a suggestion as an order. 

"Look, unless you are going to make me a serious offer, I would just as soon go back into Reno's." Skip seemed to be a hard ass, even if he was tiny. It might even have been because he was tiny.

I stopped even in the cold wind. "Look skip, I don't think I want to talk business with a bunch of thugs listening. So, if you don't want to go some place where I can feel comfortable, to hell with you and your tub." I needed him but I also needed to be in control.

He backed down as I expected him to do. "I guess I can understand about the others in there. It isn't my first choice either. I would ordinarily be in the pit up the street. I got in a fight there. They told me not to come back for a while." He sounded proud of the fight.

It was the moment of truth when I asked, "So, how did you make out?"

"Got my ass whipped," he said proudly. "But it took two of them."

I had a choice, so I chose to see what he was made of. "Well getting your ass whipped even by two still makes you a loser." I waited to see what he would do.

He stepped back giving himself room to maneuver. "Tell you what friend, if you want to see what this loser can do, just bring it on."

I laughed but I did not relax. "Maybe you will do after all." I laughed again but I kept my eye on him.

His anger dropped as quickly as it had risen. "Do for what?" he asked.

I didn't answer him. I simply nodded toward the diner which was close at hand. I found a corner table away from everyone. I took a seat against the wall. I noted Skip took the other wall seat.

"Now what business is it you have with me. By the way, I don't do business with people whose name I don't know." It was a clear statement of fact.

"Burke, Deacon Burke I replied." I didn't offer him my hand and neither did he.

"So what illegal venture do you want to use the 'Lazy Susan' for?"

"Why do you think it has to be illegal?" I asked.

"Well, if it isn't there probably isn't enough in it to pay off the loan. If I can't pay off the loan, you can buy her at the sheriff's boat auction.

"Have they foreclosed on you yet?" I asked it concerned, since it would be much harder to deal with a bank.

"No, the bank gave me thirty days to catch up the payments, or else. They might as well not have bothered. I owe more in back payments than I could earn if I ran her night and day."

"Why didn't you do that before you got behind?" I knew there had to be a reason. Skip didn't seem lazy.

"Deacon, you don't know the river shippers. All of them know the captains they do business with. They all knew my dad and he barely made it. They still see me as a boy tagging along behind my dad. Don't help none that I am short."

"How much do you need to catch the boat up?" I asked it so I would know whether to enter into a deal with him. A deal on a boat for a month would not be a good one.

"I could catch it up for a hundred bucks. The pay off is almost five hundred." He looked distastefully at the coffee cup. I looked hard but did not see the hand tremor of a drunk.

"You a drinker?" I asked it off handed, but he understood.

"Yeah when I get depressed, which is about all the time right now." He looked away. He was telling met the truth but he didn't much like it.

"Okay, let me explain then. I can buy liquor from the maker about a hundred miles from here. Last time I tried to distribute it, I pretty much had to fight my way out of town." I didn't bother to tell him it had been more than once. "I am looking for a safer way to distribute."

"Just sell it to the gangs. That is the safest way."

"If I do that, I might as well be working for wages. No, I want to make enough money to make the risks worthwhile."

"Well since I am not gonna work free, it still won't be cheap," he looked at me smiling. "Plus I have to think about the boat getting shot full of holes."

"If the boat gets shot full of holes, you probably won't have a thing to worry about. I expect you will be what they are shooting at."

"Good point, plus I expect I won't have the boat if I don't do something like this."

I simply nodded my agreement. 

"So how much you gonna pay me?" he asked.

"Well, I haven't decided yet just what I need you to do. You might be able to help me with that."

"You are talking about white liquor aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes I am," I replied.

"Deacon, there ain't as much money in white as there is in some of the others. That stuff that comes in from Canada gets the best prices."

"Well I can't get your boat to Canada and I don't know anyone in Canada." The smile he flashed me should have worried me.

"Deacon, do you know what medical alcohol is?" I saw the smile fade when I shook my head.

"It is grain alcohol with no flavor at all. It is a lot like white liquor."

"Okay so what?"

"You finished that coffee?" he asked.

"Sure, wasn't much good anyway." I tossed a dime on the table as I stood to follow Skip.

The two block walk to the drug store was cold. It was made even colder by the fact that I thought Skip might be wasting my time. 

"Martin, how you doing?" he asked a youngish man in a white jacket. The man smiled then nodded. "Martin, this is the Deacon. Deacon, Martin here is a chemist of sorts. His dad owns this place."

"Nice to meet you," I said with a smile.

"Martin could I have a bottle of your special cough medicine." The look on Skips face was quite content. Since we were the only customers, Skip opened the bottle then said, "After you Deacon."

I took a mouthful of the mixture. The taste was very good and it burned just like the alcohol that had to be in it. "Damn," was all I could say.

Skip, took the bottle, then finished it off in one pull. "Martin, you do make great cough syrup."

"So Martin, you getting rich making this stuff?" I asked it as I handed him the dime in payment.

"No sir, Daddy wont let me sell it when he is around. He is afraid the cops will take his store away."

"That seems a legitimate fear Martin." It was what came to mind first.

"I know Deacon," he replied.

"Martin, what time do you go to lunch. I think we might need to have a little talk." I was smiling broadly as I said it. Martin added a new dynamic to the plan. He looked like a school boy, but he was already in the liquor business. That being the case I didn't feel that I was going to corrupt him. I had known all along that a lot of the liquor in speaks was home made. It had never occurred to me that some of it was made my chemists. 

"Well Skip?" I asked once we were seated in the cafe. "Have you given any thought to how much you want to travel up and down the river?"

"Do you mean how many trips I want to make or how much I am going to charge per trip?" Skip asked it but he knew what I meant.

"Per trip Skip?" I asked.

"Traveling both ways and helping to protect the cargo should be worth thirty bucks a trip." He said it with a straight face.

"You are crazy. Hell I could just wait and buy the tub at auction. I could get a skipper for her for a few bucks."

"True but not one with ten years experience, and one who will fight for you cargo. No thirty is cheap." 

"You won't have to fight the first time. Nobody is going to know what the cargo is on that first trip. After that one you might be right. Okay thirty a trip but guaranteed not to go up, even if you have to pull a trigger."

"Good, now you are going to make sure I don't lose the boat?" He was grinning while he said it. 

"Well, I sure as hell don't want it, but I will talk to the bank for you." I made no move to leave the table.

"Deacon they are really on my ass. I said thirty days, but I am not sure they will wait that long."

"After I talk to Martin, I will talk to the bank. Take it easy Skip, I need that boat. I will make damn sure it doesn't get away from us." I saw a look on his face I didn't like, I figured it was time to get everything straight.

"Skip, I need to say this just so you know. I don't want you to take offense, but you need to hear it. If you try to pull anything on me, I will kill you. I might be younger than you, but I damn sure killed more men."

"Deacon, are you threatening me?" he asked.

"That is a fair characterization of it. If you try to steal from me, or you try to cut me out, I will kill you. This is your only warning."

"Okay, I give you my word. You save my boat and I will not try to screw you. If you don't, I will do whatever it takes to save her."

"You had no chance to save her till I came along. Skip, don't let your mouth overload your ass." He looked as though he wanted to say something but decided against it. It was a good thing since the pissing contest could have escalated into something more dangerous.

Not too much later Martin arrived. I made sure no one could hear me. "Martin would you be interested in doing a little job for me now and again?"

You mean making the cough syrup. I can't get enough alcohol to make it in volume. Tell me could you get enough ingredients to treat a hundred gallons of alkie?"

"That is a lot of booze but yeah sure. I can buy most of it in the grocery store. It's the proportions that are tough not the stuff in it." He smiled knowing he had a secret.

"Now Martin here is your problem. If you ruin a hundred gallons of hootch, I am not going to be a happy man. With all that in mind, how much to change the booze into something special.

"You buy the ingredients and I will work on the formula. I should get twenty dollars for it." He sounded a little tentative.

"Only if you can get me some bottles and labels. You know all the right people, I don't." I looked at him hard while he gave it some thought. 

"Sure, I can do that." He looked at me with the confidence of youth.

"Kid, if you can't deliver, don't promise me you can." I gave him a dangerous look.

"I can deliver all right." He smiled the wise ass smile again.

I nodded since my last tough guy look had not accomplished what I had hoped. "Do you happen to know of a place where we can make the stuff?"

"I do," Skip said. "There is large storage building behind my place. I can empty it for you."

"Maybe, how long does it take to change the stuff?" I asked it of Martin.

"Once I have the formula right, a few hours to a few days depending on how much change you want. It kind of mellows the longer it sits."

"Well kid the longer it sits around the more chance of us losing it all. Jail would be the best we could hope for." I could still remember the gunmen from my last trip.

Not much more was said. Martin rushed off to his father's store. Skip took me to see his banker. 

"James Lawrence," the man said. He didn't seem to be impressed with me. I supposed it was my work clothes as much as anything else.

"Mr. Lawrence, I need to find out the status on Mr. Ever's boat."

"I can look it up, if you like sir. Would you tell me your interest in the matter?"

"Skip is about to enter into a business arrangement with me. Part of that arrangement is the use of his boat. I wish to be quite sure the boat is available."

"Skip, you sure you don't mind me talking to this gentleman?" 

"No, if he don't hire me, I am gonna lose the Lazy Susan and daddy is gonna roll over in his grave." 

"All right, Skip borrowed five hundred dollars on the boat. I made the loan against my better judgment. I probably would not have but Skip borrowed it to pay off his dad's estate debts. I hoped he could make the boat pay. He hasn't made a single payment. We have gone along almost a year without a payment. I would have foreclosed before except that the boat isn't worth five hundred dollars."

"Okay, let me ask you a couple of questions. First of all I need to know you won't foreclose for a month. What can I do to keep that from happening?" I kept my eyes on his.

"Well we really haven't decided what to do with Skip. If I could show that skip had made a couple of payments, and promised to continue then we might do something."

I handed the man twenty dollars. "I would like a receipt for that please." It was Skip who said it.

We were outside when I said, "Now you make that run, or I am gonna take that twenty out of your ass instead of your pay."

"Deacon, I plan to make this run. I also plan to keep on making them until you either, get tired of it or killed. Then I think I might just take over for you."

"I might get tired, but I wouldn't count on me getting killed."

"I won't," Skip said.

With the money for the bike gone and skips bank payment I was felling the pinch. I could do the liquor thing but if the truck gave me trouble it was going to be touch and go. I parted company with Skip outside the bank. Once back in the hotel I knocked on Rachel's door. There was no answer. I had no idea where she might be so I pulled the railroad watch from my pocket. I hadn't realized how long all the waiting had taken. It wasn't quite time for dinner but it was close. I left my door open while I sat down with the paper.

"Hey Deacon," the voice belonged to Rachel.

"Hi, I was waiting for you." 

"Good, let's go eat I am starved. The movie was great you should have come along."

"Well, I wasn't invited." I smiled to let her know it was a joke.

"How could I invite you? I never know where you are." She wasn't smiling.

"Okay the preparations are over. Let's go eat and I will fill you in." Over dinner I gave her all the information. 

When I had finished, she asked, "So you think this fancy liquor will bring us more money?"

"Yes I do. Even more important I think it will be easier to sell."

"And you think we need the boat thing?" she asked it still not sure.

"Yes, I think it will be easier to defend than the T."

"After that last trip I guess it is a good idea at that. So when do we go back to Kentucky." 

"I think in the morning. Might as well get started."

"Suits me," she replied. "If we leave early, we can get there in one day's travel."

The drive was long and uneventful. Rachel's uncle's barn was cold. We loaded one hundred gallons of hooch. I didn't think we would ever get back with it. The T struggled up the hills. It seemed at times that I could have pushed it faster. We did not arrive back at the hotel until sun up the next day. I left the truck outside the diner with strict instructions for Rachel to keep an eye on it. I found Skip at the Pit.

"Skip, come on out I need to use that storage shed of yours." To his credit Skip got it right away. He followed me outside. When we made it back to the diner, I let him stare at Rachel a moment before I said, "Rachel this is Skip. Skip this is Rachel she is a partner."

Skip, had a hard time talking but he finally got a hello out. He squeezed in beside Rachel as he directed me to his house. The three of us made short work of the boxes. Skip had gone into the house to bring Rachel a glass of water when she asked, "Do you trust him with all this liquor?"

"Not really, do you want to stay here with it until it is on the boat."

"You mean, in the shed?" she asked.

"No, I think we can get you into the house." 

"Where are you going to be?" she asked.

"I am going to have to get our chemist and his supplies. I want you to keep an eye on Skip. I don't want him making any visits to anyone. Just go with him if he tries to leave." As I spoke I removed the Webley pistol. I got it from a British pilot who wanted the German Luger I happened to have. The Luger was one of three I came by in a poker game. 

"I don't know much about guns," Rachel informed me.

"Point it at him. He will get the message. If he don't, keep it pointed at him while you pull the trigger."

"I could never shoot anyone," she said. 

"Well Rachel, imagine being back on that farm cause that is where you are going to be if we lose that liquor." Rachel nodded her understanding.

I drove to the pharmacy to drag Martin from behind the counter if necessary. It wasn't, he took one look at me then said a few woods to his father who shook his bead. Martin and I left together. Martin took me shopping all over town. As we went, I explained the situation with the liquor.

"So you want all hundred gallons doctored?" he asked.

"No Marty, I want fifty gallons doctored. I am going to leave with skip and the other fifty gallons in a day or so. The other fifty you can doctor but do it on a quart first I want to know what you are up to before you screw up the whole hundred gallons."

"Sure, I have to get a test batch anyway. It usually is less than a quart. A cup is plenty."

"Good," We arrived at Skip's house with a truck whose bed was littered with small boxes of one thing and another. I sat Marty up in the kitchen of skips house with a quart of white liquor and all his boxes. 

Skip wasn't real happy with us using his kitchen until I reminded him that he was making almost as much as me and Rachel. Rachel went to sleep on Skip's sofa while I stood watch over the two of them. Marty was boiling hell out of acorns when Rachel awoke. Once she was on guard I slept for several hours. 

It was well after dark when Skip and I loaded twenty cases of liquor onto the truck. At the very front of the truck bed my motorcycle was tied as well. It was still dark and cold when we loaded the liquor and bike on board the Lazy Susan. 

Skip and I agreed that leaving before sunup was foolish and dangerous. The liquor took up most of the cargo area but only because we did not stack it very high. No sense risking it with such a small load. Skip and I shared a bedroll on the boat. The control area of the boat was too small for us to stretch out so we rearranged boxes of liquor. I didn't feel the need to heavily arm myself since only the four of us involved knew what the cargo of the Lazy Susan was.

Leaving Rachel and the kid alone was a calculated risk. They were close to the same age and might fall madly in love. Not likely, but it was possible that I would return to an empty storeroom and missing T.

Skip and I got only an hour or so of sleep before he was up starting a fire in the boiler. The boiler was open to the elements which caused some rust around the rivets. Skip saw me looking critically at it.

"Don't worry Deacon that is just surface rust. I checked the boiler over thoroughly just a few weeks ago."

"Shouldn't you paint it or something?" I asked.

"The heat would pop it off. I should scrape it though. I just kind of let the LS go to hell when it looked like I was gonna lose her. If we can make this work, I am gonna clean her up."

"Skip this ain't no career. We can do this probably long enough to make some money, but it is gonna end one day. Either the government will admit prohibition is stupid or the gangs will run us out of business. Hell, they will probably kill us anyway, so not much sense in worrying." Skip's smile probably matched my own. He looked kind of resigned to whatever might be coming.

The river was barely visible when we left the dock. I soon discovered that I was a terrible sailor. Even the gentle river made me queasy after a while.