We were in the cruiser headed for County Seat when The Brit said, “Sometimes no matter how much you want something to turnout one way, the mother fucker goes a different way. Matter of fact it happens more than it doesn’t happen. Seems like more thing go wrong in life, than go right.”
“Are you trying to be philosophical, or talking about me and Kara, or me and you?” I asked.
“Hell, maybe a little of all three,” he said with a laugh.
“You know Brit, sometimes you have a one night stand, that was so good you would to do it again, but it just don’t happen. Sometimes the other person wasn’t as high on you, as you were on them, fuck’em if they can’t take a joke,” I said.
“I will agree with that a hundred percent,” he said.
“So we won’t get to share her, I expect we can live with that,” I said.
“Me toom there are more fish in the reservoir,” The Brit said.
“Got that is an awful thing to say,” I replied laughing so hard I actually lost sight of the road for a few seconds. Thank god I was on the interstate and there was no oncoming traffic to worry about.
“You know we are beginning to lose our way,” he said.
“Brit did you ever know your way. I could just as easily ended up a serial killer as a cop,” I said.
“That’s probably true of most cops. They have a moral compass, I believe. You and me are half a bubble off center,” he said.
“Maybe a little more than half a bubble in my case,” I said.
“Oh I don’t know. You aren’t into the drugs that burn people’s brains out. It would be more profitable, and no more work. So that’s a moral choice, and I think a good one.” he said.
“Is that one of those, you aren’t so bad. You could be cooking meth, kind of compliments?” I asked.
You would expect him to say no, not at all, but he said, “I guess it was.” and left it at that.
“You know I might run for Sheriff, but if I do, I want to clean my act up first. Get out of the moonshine business. The people in this county wouldn’t hold the moonshine or the bootlegging against me at all. The gang in Dobson about half of them would approve, but I can’t keep sliding downhill. There has to be a limit.”
“Make up your mind and I’ll support you, if you want to run. I think I can make a hell of a argument. Vote for Sylvia or I’ll shoot your ass, in the ass,” he said.
“Sounds like a good campaign slogan.” I agreed. Then added, “There is Mary Ellen.”
“Not an issue, you can’t make unprovable accusations, it’s liable,” he said.
“Do we really want to take the chance that it come back on us though?” I asked.
“You want to be Sheriff, I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said. “It isn’t that big a deal. Now those porn movies might be a big enough deal.”
“They aren’t illegal though,” I said. “Maybe the sales will go up. They are looking at the guys who took over Mary Ellen’s porno company for her death. You know those two kids who were in school at the time we made them. They shot them to payback their student loans, but they have the master tapes.”
“You know you would have to get ahead of that shit. God only knows what would happen.” The Brit said.
“One thing I have learned, this is the bible belt for mama, but moonshine and porn for daddy. How it would play out, I have no idea. But I can run in the primary against the Sheriff we have now, or his chief deputy, if the Sheriff doesn’t run again. It wouldn’t cost much to print a few posters and make a couple of speeches. I am sure I would have to answer the charges in the primary which would get them out of the way, before I invested too much time and money.”
“It would blow your moonshine operation. You could never go back to it,” The Brit said,
“It’s getting to be too much work. The money is good, but I don’t have time to spend it.” I said.
“That’s the trouble with life, you have to keep working to be sure you have an existence,” The Brit said.
“Work is the curse of the leisure class,” I said. “They are registering for the primary now. Last I heard the Sheriff wasn’t on the ballot, but his Chief Deputy is. Deputy Webster wants to be the Sheriff.”
“So what do you have to do to register,” The Brit asked.
“Pay the filing fee and prove you are resident of the county. Everything else is scrapping with each other,” I said.
“So shit register and let them attack you then respond and turn it back on them,” The Brit said. “You know Jeremy and I will be on your side. Probably that lawyer Rita as well.”
“I’m going to do it. Mostly because I’m tired of cooking liquor. If I lose the race, I might go back to work for Swamp Dog,” I said. “If they will have me back again.” I said.
“Good for you now let me tell you this, if you get elected and something big comes up, you can always deputize the guys from the church camp,” he said.
“I hope that never becomes necessary, but it is comforting to know,” I said.
“So you definitely gonna file?” The Brit asked.
“Yeah I think so, I got two more weeks to put my hat in the ring. I’m going to take most of it. I want to cook off this last batch of mash and close down. Then if I don’t win the election I can look for something else to do. I got way too much gray money tied up in trade goods. If I don’t get elected, I will have to get rid of that stuff for cash.
By the time I let The Brit off outside the rear door to the pub, I had pretty much talked myself into running for sure. I went home and to sleep. I went to bed without doing anything to secure the place, but I got away with that every now and then. I did again that night.
I rode the bike a couple of hours the next morning. I rode it for two hours until 7:30AM to be exact. When I got off the bike, I had a bag of biscuits filled with sausage and eggs. When I checked the mash I knew it would be at least one more day, so I ate and went to sleep. I turned off the phone, so I felt good about crawling between the sheets on the big bed. I didn’t even take a shower, I just laid down on the clean crisp sheets.
It was after six in the afternoon when I turned on the phone. It was only a half minute at most when I answered the call. “A little bird just told me you might run for Sheriff of that county. Let me know if there is anything I can do.”
Thanks Colonel, but I think I’m going to take it easy. Just let the others take pot shots at me and try to defend myself.” I said. “If I can do it with a little humor, I think I can turn their attacks into votes.”
“Well if it they get too rough let me know. We might be able discourage them,” he said with a laugh,
“If I do that, I won’t be much of a Sheriff. I want to win without intimidating anyone,” I said.
“Well it sure would be nice if you won,” he said.
“Well I got to weeks to file for the ballot spot,” I said.
“You should do it. It would be fun,” the Colonel said.
“Well I will give it a lot of thought. I’m going to stop the moonshine business either way,” I said.
“You gonna cook one more batch?” he asked.
“Yeah this one is going to start cooking in a couple of days. I could mash in one more time, I guess.” I said.
“Cook a load after the one you got going now and mash all that stalk you got left in it,” he suggested. “I’ll buy it at $500 a gallon for all you make on that last run.”
“One special batch only because we are friends,” I said.
“Yes we are,” the Colonel said and then he was gone.
It looked as though things were conspiring to put me in politics, I thought. I didn’t mind because like I said, I was bored with the liquor business. Win or lose when it became common knowledge that I had been in the moonshine business, the cops from all over would be looking for my still. So before it became common knowledge, I had to dismantle it and close down the operation for good.
The next run belonged to monk, but it was going to be his last. The very last run was for Colonel Martin from the swamp. I figured it was good for buying me a favor or two. Of course if I won, I expected him to come looking for a harmless favor now and then.
The first thing I did was to get busy working out what I needed for the last two runs, then getting rid of the rest. I had a bunch of deer feed corn to get rid of even if I brewed with mostly corn as a component it might taste better, but it wouldn’t make it any higher proof. The fact that the Colonel wanted the pot heavy in his batch told me he understood about THC. The higher the concentrate the more potent the brew. In my case the more potent the alcohol and THC drink.
During the next week, while I worked on Monk’s last batch, I spent a lot of time with Kara on my mind. She had acted strange toward The Brit and I. Maybe it was something to do with that club. I didn’t see how it could be, she had invited me to the club. I knew and she should know that The Brit was harmless, if he was with me. I would like to know what had happened, but I didn’t want to know enough to go ask her. She was going to have to come looking for me, if she was in some kind of trouble.
I cooked for two days to get the two barrels of mash done. I wanted to cook the batch for the Colonel after I had cleaned everything up from Monks run. I had 16 gallons before I proofed the shine and twenty gallons after. So Monk but some real money on me. I explained that I was out of the business. He had the last batch coming his way. I arranged a dead drop on the farm down the road from me. The owner had died and it had been abandoned for a year. I never dropped to anyone, but the monk there.
He moved $6000 from his account to my pay pal account to purchase a signet ring from an estate sale. I dropped the whiskey, when the money cleared pay pal. It was all above board when I delivered the whiskey to the drop and left the game camera to watch the pickup. It was definitely the monk in his old green pick up with the primer colored door. I called him to say I had his picture and the pickup with clean. He agreed and hung up.