Memories of Old Josh, in: Alligator Moonshine (#37)
Alligator Moonshine
((in: Memories of Old Josh) (forth Series; episode #37))
Silas was remembering when his father Josh had stepped off, and in the process, slipped from the last step of the porch in 1904, a year before his death (it was now 1909; he caught his pants leg onto the an edge of the end, or last wooden step (Old Josh, had made those steps, built those very same steps himself, he had to cut down a tree by the creek to make them, drag it up hill, across the cornfields, through the backwoods, back in the late 1880s, all that to make those stairs; thought Silas, on top of his other thoughts, of Josh falling flat on his face, he had made some homemade moonshine that evening and tried it out, it proved to be as good as ever, ah, he was thought to be dead though, and he was bruised for a week, Silas murmured out loud).
Old Josh liked his moonshine, and used to say, “I tell ya boys, it git da bite like da Alligator,” and so the country folk, all called his moonshine, ‘Josh’s Alligator Moonshine.
Sometimes, especially when Old Josh was broke, he’d have his son Jordon, who worked at the town grocery store in Ozark (Alabama), take a few bottles, and jugs down with him in the morning, sell some of it under the counter, or through the back door, so his boss would not notice, although he bought some of it himself, now and then.
Well, everyone had thought—even Jordon and Silas—Old Josh was dead on that warm dark soil that summer evening, in front of his shanty, in particular Silas. He looked dead as a door nail. Silas even told his brother, “Ole pa, he done git stiff as a frozen carp…go fetch me a priest Jordon!”
Jordon hesitated, thought about that request, then asked, “Wuh, a priest, why not a doc?”
Hesitating, Silas looked in Jordon’s squinty dark eyes, “Da doc he cant do a thing for pa, he’s too old, da priest, he can help pa into da pearl gates, he done talk ‘bout all his life.” Jordon shook his head, but did as his older brother told him to do.
—It was an hour later when the priest showed up, said, “Would you all like me to say a prayer for your pa, before you get the doctor, and sheriff out to witness this death?”
(Silas and Jordon were sitting on the steps and Josh laying flat on his face in the dirt.)
Said Old Josh, with a harsh rustic voice; “Forget da prayer, an’ gits me my moonshine son!” he demanded from Silas, trying to push himself upward.
The white priest said, “Absolutely not, you’re not in any condition to drink.”
Jordon whispered to the priest, “It’s kinda like his petrol.”
“Your pa just overindulged tonight, he’s ok.” Said the priest, and jumped on his horse to ride back down the road a spell to his little church, and pulled out a little bottle of corn whisky, to help him through the long and dusty ride back.
Written 2-19-2008 (Written at Starbucks, in Circle, Lima, Peru, 1:00 to 4:00 PM)
((in: Memories of Old Josh) (forth Series; episode #37))
Silas was remembering when his father Josh had stepped off, and in the process, slipped from the last step of the porch in 1904, a year before his death (it was now 1909; he caught his pants leg onto the an edge of the end, or last wooden step (Old Josh, had made those steps, built those very same steps himself, he had to cut down a tree by the creek to make them, drag it up hill, across the cornfields, through the backwoods, back in the late 1880s, all that to make those stairs; thought Silas, on top of his other thoughts, of Josh falling flat on his face, he had made some homemade moonshine that evening and tried it out, it proved to be as good as ever, ah, he was thought to be dead though, and he was bruised for a week, Silas murmured out loud).
Old Josh liked his moonshine, and used to say, “I tell ya boys, it git da bite like da Alligator,” and so the country folk, all called his moonshine, ‘Josh’s Alligator Moonshine.
Sometimes, especially when Old Josh was broke, he’d have his son Jordon, who worked at the town grocery store in Ozark (Alabama), take a few bottles, and jugs down with him in the morning, sell some of it under the counter, or through the back door, so his boss would not notice, although he bought some of it himself, now and then.
Well, everyone had thought—even Jordon and Silas—Old Josh was dead on that warm dark soil that summer evening, in front of his shanty, in particular Silas. He looked dead as a door nail. Silas even told his brother, “Ole pa, he done git stiff as a frozen carp…go fetch me a priest Jordon!”
Jordon hesitated, thought about that request, then asked, “Wuh, a priest, why not a doc?”
Hesitating, Silas looked in Jordon’s squinty dark eyes, “Da doc he cant do a thing for pa, he’s too old, da priest, he can help pa into da pearl gates, he done talk ‘bout all his life.” Jordon shook his head, but did as his older brother told him to do.
—It was an hour later when the priest showed up, said, “Would you all like me to say a prayer for your pa, before you get the doctor, and sheriff out to witness this death?”
(Silas and Jordon were sitting on the steps and Josh laying flat on his face in the dirt.)
Said Old Josh, with a harsh rustic voice; “Forget da prayer, an’ gits me my moonshine son!” he demanded from Silas, trying to push himself upward.
The white priest said, “Absolutely not, you’re not in any condition to drink.”
Jordon whispered to the priest, “It’s kinda like his petrol.”
“Your pa just overindulged tonight, he’s ok.” Said the priest, and jumped on his horse to ride back down the road a spell to his little church, and pulled out a little bottle of corn whisky, to help him through the long and dusty ride back.
Written 2-19-2008 (Written at Starbucks, in Circle, Lima, Peru, 1:00 to 4:00 PM)
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 8:16 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home