were in a bit of trouble yesterday.”
I deflated. Posting my itinerary on a billboard wouldn’t tell my neighbors anything they didn’t already know. “Can you help me?” I pulled the property map from inside my jacket.
“Depends.” Dwayne sidled up to me and peered at the map.
“I need to know how to get over here—” I pointed to the Gonzales’s plot, “without driving and without going out on the county road.”
“Ahh.” Dwayne’s bushy brows lowered. “This have anything to do with the serious folks surveilling out front?”
I bit my lip and realized for the first time that my FBI watchers must have put a damper on Dwayne’s movements as well. He’s not terribly keen to encounter law enforcement officers, for obvious reasons. Yet another way I was a burden to my friends.
“Come on in.” Dwayne stumped into his cabin, ducking his head to fit through the low doorway.
I spent as little time under the porch overhang as possible and darted through the opening after him. Dwayne spread the map on a table in front of his homemade wood stove and pulled up a three-legged campstool for me.
A pencil stub materialized from somewhere — a shirt pocket? behind his ear? — and Dwayne deftly stroked dashed lines, X’s and O’s on the map. Then he explained his simple legend and the pros and cons of each trail, where they merged and diverged and how long I could expect each one to take, provided I was a proficient hiker.
Then he brought up a subject I hadn’t considered. “Time of day? It’ll be the new moon and overcast the next few days.”
Meaning it would be pitch black after sunset, and the landmarks wouldn’t mean anything if I couldn’t see them. At my blank look, Dwayne stabbed the pencil at one of the trails. “This one, then. It mostly follows a small creek bed down in a holler that should prevent a flashlight beam from casting too far past where you need it.”
It also happened to be one of the more direct routes. I nodded. “Much obliged. How’ve you been? With this cold snap?” I stretched out a hand toward the faint warmth of the stove.
Dwayne grinned, revealing a few gaps from missing teeth. “I’m not a tenderfoot like you. Besides, that boy, Bodie, has been around, done some chopping for me. Walt sent him, but he’s cheerful enough about it.”
“He’s been talking to you?” Hopefulness crept into my tone.
Dwayne’s bottom lip protruded as he reconsidered. “Wouldn’t call it talking, exactly. Bits here and there, but I get the gist of it. Parents got no right treating their child like that.” A steely glint flashed behind the cataract clouds in Dwayne’s eyes.
I squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I’ve been hoping he’d come out of his shell.”
Dwayne nodded and showed me to the door of his shack — the consummate gentleman.
While my legs launched into the hasty trek back to the mansion, my brain disassociated for a few minutes. It was crazy just how quickly I’d become accustomed to new situations. Not too long ago, I would have been horrified by the idea of moonshining, or laughed, thinking it was a long-dead, boys-will-be-boys hobby stamped out with the end of Prohibition. But here I was consorting with a moonshiner. Of course, I’d yet to see any hard evidence, like equipment in actual use. Even so, Dwayne’s alleged occupation so paled in comparison to the other dilemmas I faced that I considered him an ally.
It sure helped that he’d saved my life — and Eli’s. That one episode by itself overrode whatever remained of my flimsy conscientious objections.
oOo
Clarice would have given General William Tecumseh Sherman a run for his money in the mounting of a major campaign. By the time I entered the steamy kitchen, Clarice had four large pans of pear and cranberry crisp lined up on the big farm table. Two children — dark haired, dark eyed, petite and feminine CeCe and tufty fawn haired, crystal-blue eyed, freckled, new teeth growing in too
I deflated. Posting my itinerary on a billboard wouldn’t tell my neighbors anything they didn’t already know. “Can you help me?” I pulled the property map from inside my jacket.
“Depends.” Dwayne sidled up to me and peered at the map.
“I need to know how to get over here—” I pointed to the Gonzales’s plot, “without driving and without going out on the county road.”
“Ahh.” Dwayne’s bushy brows lowered. “This have anything to do with the serious folks surveilling out front?”
I bit my lip and realized for the first time that my FBI watchers must have put a damper on Dwayne’s movements as well. He’s not terribly keen to encounter law enforcement officers, for obvious reasons. Yet another way I was a burden to my friends.
“Come on in.” Dwayne stumped into his cabin, ducking his head to fit through the low doorway.
I spent as little time under the porch overhang as possible and darted through the opening after him. Dwayne spread the map on a table in front of his homemade wood stove and pulled up a three-legged campstool for me.
A pencil stub materialized from somewhere — a shirt pocket? behind his ear? — and Dwayne deftly stroked dashed lines, X’s and O’s on the map. Then he explained his simple legend and the pros and cons of each trail, where they merged and diverged and how long I could expect each one to take, provided I was a proficient hiker.
Then he brought up a subject I hadn’t considered. “Time of day? It’ll be the new moon and overcast the next few days.”
Meaning it would be pitch black after sunset, and the landmarks wouldn’t mean anything if I couldn’t see them. At my blank look, Dwayne stabbed the pencil at one of the trails. “This one, then. It mostly follows a small creek bed down in a holler that should prevent a flashlight beam from casting too far past where you need it.”
It also happened to be one of the more direct routes. I nodded. “Much obliged. How’ve you been? With this cold snap?” I stretched out a hand toward the faint warmth of the stove.
Dwayne grinned, revealing a few gaps from missing teeth. “I’m not a tenderfoot like you. Besides, that boy, Bodie, has been around, done some chopping for me. Walt sent him, but he’s cheerful enough about it.”
“He’s been talking to you?” Hopefulness crept into my tone.
Dwayne’s bottom lip protruded as he reconsidered. “Wouldn’t call it talking, exactly. Bits here and there, but I get the gist of it. Parents got no right treating their child like that.” A steely glint flashed behind the cataract clouds in Dwayne’s eyes.
I squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I’ve been hoping he’d come out of his shell.”
Dwayne nodded and showed me to the door of his shack — the consummate gentleman.
While my legs launched into the hasty trek back to the mansion, my brain disassociated for a few minutes. It was crazy just how quickly I’d become accustomed to new situations. Not too long ago, I would have been horrified by the idea of moonshining, or laughed, thinking it was a long-dead, boys-will-be-boys hobby stamped out with the end of Prohibition. But here I was consorting with a moonshiner. Of course, I’d yet to see any hard evidence, like equipment in actual use. Even so, Dwayne’s alleged occupation so paled in comparison to the other dilemmas I faced that I considered him an ally.
It sure helped that he’d saved my life — and Eli’s. That one episode by itself overrode whatever remained of my flimsy conscientious objections.
oOo
Clarice would have given General William Tecumseh Sherman a run for his money in the mounting of a major campaign. By the time I entered the steamy kitchen, Clarice had four large pans of pear and cranberry crisp lined up on the big farm table. Two children — dark haired, dark eyed, petite and feminine CeCe and tufty fawn haired, crystal-blue eyed, freckled, new teeth growing in too
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