A Peck of Gold

Untitled - aw. I hate that.

Fortunately, the stars were shining brightly in the field that night, and the girls had no trouble picking their way carefully through the tall grass.

“Shh… I think I hear them,” whispered the smaller girl. They ducked down behind the weeds and peered into the darkness until they spotted the figures framed in the moonlight. Two men bent over a large tub, and a third was filling mason jars with a ladle from a second tub.

“They’re m-moonshiners,” the girls said in unified horror. “I can’t believe Pappy would do something like that!” Tears gathered in disbelieving eyes, and the girls sunk dejectedly back into the grass.

“I knew we shouldn’t have come here. Mama told us not to go poking our noses into this! Why do you always have to go and ruin everything?” asked the older girl hotly.

“Cara, don’t get mad at me! I'm not the one moonshining or lying to his family!” said the younger girl defiantly. “Besides, I couldn’t make you stay in bed. You wanted to come.”

“I’m not mad, Jillie. Well, I am, but at Pappy, not you.” She sighed. “Come on, let's go home. We know the truth now. I don't want to watch this anymore.” The older girl grabbed her sister by the hand, and they edged away from the troubling scene.

Cara took one more look at her father, her brows creased in frustration, and she fought the urge to confront him right away. She knew daughters weren't supposed to question their fathers, especially a man like Pappy. His word was law in the Folsom house, but she'd come up against him several times in youthful rebellion. He had quickly set his oldest daughter straight, and the rule of the house endured. This time was different though. Moonshining was wrong, Pappy himself had expressed disapproval of it in the past. Tomorrow will be soon enough, she thought to herself, dreading the moment she'd have to admit she'd left the house in the wee hours of the morning. Even more though, she feared the look in his eye when she confessed what she'd seen him doing.

Cara watched him stir the tub with a large wooden spoon. She nearly turned away, when a sudden movement behind him caught her eye. Squinting her eyes to focus in on the motion, her heart lurched as she realized that one of the other men was pointing a shotgun at her father’s back. She opened her mouth to yell a warning, but it was drowned out by the sudden reverberating shot that rang out in the night. She watched in dismay as he fell forward, tumbling over the vat and onto the ground. Jillie’s hand slid out of hers and the younger girl cried out as she ran forward to her fallen father.

Cara propelled herself after Jillie, fearful that her sister would meet the same violence, and terrified that her father was already dead.

“What have we here? The old man’s brats?” asked one of the scruffy men angrily. He yanked Jillie up by her hair, and held her as she kicked and screamed at him. “Get that other one,” he ordered, as Cara flew to her sister’s rescue. She was quickly caught up in big arms, and she nearly gagged at that odor that assailed her.

“You shot my pappy!” yelled Jillie. “I hate you! You’re a bad man, and –“

Her words were cut off when he clamped a dirty hand over her mouth and growled in a menacing voice, “If you want to end up like your precious pappy, you keep talking, missy.” He jerked her cruelly and her small whimper tore at Cara’s heart.

She yelled at Jillie to be quiet. She knew these men. They were hired hands that skulked into town at the beginning of the summer, and had found work on the Anderson’s farm. After a few run ins with the local boys and inevitably the sheriff, the men had earned a reputation for being bad tempered and mean. Everybody in town had avoided the pair, recognizing that trouble followed them like their bad smell. Even the Andersons kept their distance, and had only hired them out of desperation. The town had been holding it’s breath until the end of the summer, hoping and praying the two brutes would leave after the harvest, with as little harm done as possible.

Cara’s mind was racing as she considered her options. If they didn’t escape, she was certain they would share their pappy’s fate, if not worse. Cara knew that men like this didn’t care how young a girl might be, and it was only a matter of time before truly evil thoughts occurred to one of the murderers. Fortunately, Cara was a quick thinker. She remembered the hunting knife she had in her pocket, the birthday gift she had begged for and finally received, despite her mother’s protests that knives were for boys. It was never out of her reach, and she was thankful for her persistence at that moment. Because her arms were pinned at the chest, her hands was near her pocket. Careful not to draw attention with the motion, she slid her fingers into the fabric, and encircled the blade with shaking fingers.

The men laughed as Jillie tried to wiggle out of reach, and Cara knew their time was running out. If she was going to make a move, she had to do it quickly. She watched the men, looking for her opportunity, when she saw Jillie nodding at her in the direction of their father’s body. Cara nearly shouted in joy to see that it was not there. He must be alive! She rejoiced at the thought, and her eyes darted around looking for signs of him. In that instant, a heavy shovel came crashing down out of the dark onto Jillie’s attacker, and he landed with a thud. Cara seized the moment of confusion to thrust her knife into her captor’s thigh. Her hand was immedietely wet with the man's blood, and he grunted and let go of her, long enough for Cara to grab her sister’s hand in her own bloody one. “Run!” yelled her father weakly, and the two girls took off into the tall grass, looking over their shoulders at him, utterly torn. He roared at them again, this time loud and fierce, and the natural instinct to obey their father sent them fleeing through the fields.

The shotgun blasted in the shadows again, and this time, both girls knew their father would not be able to save them. They ran harder, racked with fear and grief, fervently wishing they’d never left the comfort and safety of their shared bed. With that simple act, they had forever lost the solace and innocence of their childhood, and the one man that had provided it for so long.

***

~~Not the end~~

Posted by Shannon at May 24, 2004 11:20 PM | TrackBack