Minnie Mae's Still (A short story, in the woods of North Carolina)

Cradled with the Devil
Book Two of Three





(May, ‘69) Minnie Mae was now working for the Stanley Plantation as a cook, the same job she had when she worked for the Wallace’s before the place burnt down, the one Burgundy Washington worked at, her old friend, who was a maid back then, now rich and a landowner. Amos was still working at the Stanley plantation also, in ’69, mostly in corn placating now. Thus, Minnie Mae was a widow, once married to Louis Johnson, he died early on in life, some twenty-years ago or so, and he was in his fifties and Minnie in her forties. He had a still in the woods, it fell on him one day, along with forty gallons of whiskey in keg, but the old still, still worked, instead of Louis and Minnie working it, it was Minnie and Amos, that is, when he had time. Minnie Mae was close to seventy now and Amos was no spring chicken either. For the most part, she was established, had her regular clientele and then some, such as Earnest Smiley, and Cole Abernathy, and the Wallace brothers used to buy moonshine from her, but of course they are now dead, but the family that bought the most whiskey from her, was the young Ritt, the owner, once owner of the National Ritt Bank, now owner of the small country outlet bank.
The distilling apparatus was hidden in the woods, disassembled and put back together its hiding place, when she wanted to make a batch of whiskey she simply brought it out, set it up. She was perhaps the only one the white revenuers, never thought of making moonshine; she was never really under suspicion, they thought after the old negro died, her husband, so did his still, but how wrong they were.

It was Saturday, and Minnie Mae, and Amos worked the whole day, from morning to mid afternoon with a the kettle of whisky prepared they were making a second one, one with a mule’s kick, and Amos told Minnie, “I reckon you don’t need me any more?”
“Go on home, you got to work the fields after church tomorrow I hear Mr. Stanley say!”
And so he left, and Minnie Mae bottled some of her new whiskey, her white lightening, her moonshine, as she called it. And disassembled the still, hid it in a cave, put bushes around it, as her husband used to do, camouflaging it, and got started, heading out of the woods, to the open fields, with several bottles of moonshine clanging against one another, and forty gallons inside the cave in a keg. She kept the seven bottles wrapped up in a cloth, and put the all on top of one another into that bag, one out of cloth she brought with her for just this occasion; she walked slow, her age, and her weight being against her.

Oliver and Percy Ampuero, two working, kind of workmen, for the railroad, they were on call, when someone was missing, or out on sick time, they’d call one of the brothers, or both to work a shift or two. They had the same mother, but different fathers, the last father they had was of Spanish origins. If they were not working, or drinking, they were out looking for something or someone to rob, to support their bad habits. They had been drinking down along the railroad tracks this evening, and heard the clanging of Minnie Mae’s whiskey bottles, they had seen her before, and heard tell she had a still in the woods, and so they crept up the hill and followed the noise of the whiskey bottles.

It was close to midnight and the two younger men stopped Minnie Mae, she had never seen them before, but she knew they were not revenue officers, one pulled out a dirty looking pistol, sniffing like a dog for the whisky she had in her bag, then grabbling the hand bag Minnie was carrying, pulling it like a bulldog, Minnie tried to pull it back, and she knocked him on his butt, and the bottles fell on him, a few broke, seeped through the cloth bag onto his lap,
“Look now what you done, you black witch!” said Percy on the ground, “Grab her arms Oliver, we’ll make her tell us where that still is!”
And Oliver did as he was told, and Percy got back up onto his feet, “Better tell him old woman,” said Oliver, “he’s got a notion to pull the trigger of that pistol.”
But Minnie Mae knew he would anyhow, he was shaking mad, and he needed to prove a point, and she was not going to tell him a thing, not because she wanted to die, but because if she pleaded for her life now, they’d kill her for the sport of it, or at least Percy would, and if she told, she knew they’d think they had to kill her anyhow, because she’d report them out of revenge some day, when they were making whiskey, so it was best left alone, if she was going to survive through the night, it would be, because Oliver would persuade his brother to let her go, and to let it go at that.
“Better tell me nigger, or I’ll shoot a big hole right through yaw!” said Percy.
And out of the blue she started laughing, and singing, saying “Oh Lord here I come, I’m a coming to yaw now.”
Said Oliver, “We best just let her go about her business, we goin’ to get in lots of trouble over this here nigger, isn’t worth it brother!”
“Never you mind, I’ve made my mind up,” and the next thing Oliver noticed was a flame coming out of the barrow of his pistol—a 38-Special. And old Minnie Mae, wobbled a bit, and fell sideways to the ground.
Several wild dogs heard the shot, came to take a look, eyes peering out of he woods, all lined up as if they were in attack mode.
Percy shot three shots, wildly at the dogs, and they scattered, and they simply showed up again, this time closer to them, and then Oliver ran, ran like the dickens, he could see the Stanley house with the moon’s light, it was a distance away, but he just followed the shadowed view of it, and ran towards it, none stop, heart beating like wild voodoo drums.
Now the dogs were only a hundred feet from Percy, he shot his last two rounds, killed one of the seven, and ran in the same direction Oliver did.
In the morning, Amos found Minnie Mae, she was dead, and then called for the sheriff, and found Percy in the field, what was left of him, which was cracked bones, and torn flesh. Oliver was found dead from a heart attack on Mr. and Mrs. Stanley’s steps, front steps.