Moonshine Excerpts Chap 5-6
Chap-5
Penelope looked like Annette on the Mickey Mouse club on TV and me and about ten million
other boys had a crush on Annette. I’d expressed that I thought she was prettier than a
speckled puppy in front of the family, Momma quickly responded, “A pretty face often hides
an evil heart boy, don’t be fooled by a pretty face, be careful.” As a teenager I didn’t listen.
I wished I had. I did feel uncomfortable about her being so rich and me being almost dirt
poor and I had a pipe dream that love could erase those differences. I didn’t realize that
there was too large a gulf that love couldn’t cross until her visit to my house.
I could tell almost immediately by the looks she gave while looking around at my house that
she was put off. The first thing that caught her attention was little Bobby Gene standing
there like a country bumpkin with his forefinger about halfway up his nose digging for
boogers. He saw her looking at him and produced a fine specimen of a snot ball and said,
“Do you want some, they good.” She said, “Ugh, what a little hick. That is so sick.”
Momma didn’t help by being rude to her, but what Penelope didn’t know is Momma was rude
to everybody, it was just her nature. Most folks have a good side and a bad side, well in
Momma’s case the bad side was a lot bigger than the good side and I could tell Penelope
had gotten on her bad side within five minutes of walking through our front door. Momma
rolled her eyes as she was leaving the front room to go fix us all lunch. As she was exiting
she said under her breath, where Penelope could not hear, “Damn little miss fancy pants.”
I was proud of Momma; she really put on the dog for Penelope. She put out our best
stained and cracked plastic plates with our old jelly jars for drinking glasses. She had fried
up a big mess of squirrel with a pot of pinto beans and skillet cornbread. Folks let me tell
you there ain’t no better eatin’ than those vittles. She’d topped that off with rhubarb pie and
cherry koolaid. Penelope’s eyes got big. She’d never seen such a free for all with all the
snatching, grabbing and gobbling that was going on at that table.
She stuck her nose straight up in the air like one of those dumb turkeys does when rain
comes, and drown themselves with their stupidity. She said, “Is there anything else to eat,
“and Sammy Lee smarted off, “Shore, we gots some rock soup and toe jam sandwiches.”
We heard that “ugh” word again and then “that’s nasty”. She pushed the beans and
cornbread around on her plate and even took a couple of bites acting like she was eating,
but she wasn’t touching her squirrel, you could tell she wasn’t having any of that. Bobby
Gene was sitting on the other side of her and being the littlest he usually ended up with the
least amount of food. He kept eyeballing that piece of squirrel on her plate. About half way
through the meal his little booger pickers snuck up on her plate and slipped that squirrel off
into his pocket. She’d seen him do it but was glad it was gone.
The longer she was there, the more she looked down her nose at us. You could see it in
her eyes; she thought we were lower than snails’ bellies. This hurt my feelings but I couldn’t
change who I was or my surroundings. She made me ashamed of who I was and of my
family and I didn’t like it.
After a couple of hours she said, “I need to use the powder room.” I said, “What’s a powder
room.” Whatever it was I knew we didn’t have one of them. She said, “The bathroom,
stupid.” She’d never called me that before and the back of my neck got real red and hot. I
said, “All we gots is an outhouse.” She said, “That ought to be an experience to tell people
about.” Then she said, “You’ll have to stand guard, I’m afraid of snakes and spiders.” I
wanted to tell her about a big black snake that stayed in the outhouse a lot because of the
rats and mice but I didn’t. It was just as well, she didn’t see him anyway. Because it was
summer there were plenty of gnats, chiggers, fleas, skeeters, flies and no-seeims around to
pester you while you were doing your business. We didn’t even notice them ourselves but
Penelope did.
When she went inside and got a good smell I heard that “ugh” word again and she said, “I
can’t use this, the smell is disgusting.” I said, “It’s either that or the bushes.” She said,
“Okay but you keep guard.” In a minute, “Where’s the toilet paper?” I said, “We ain’t got
none of that, just tear a page out of that Sears catalog, that’s what we use.” I could hear her
mumble to herself. “Wait til I tell my friends about this.” Again I felt embarrassed and now
everyone at school was going to know how poor we were. I’d never felt poor before her visit
and I was having a lot of mixed feelings going through my young brain.
As I was standing there on shit house guard detail, a granddaddy long legs spider walked
right over my big toe of my left foot. I reached down and picked him up. It hit me all at
once. I could tell Penelope and I were through by the way she was acting and the way she
was looking at me and my family, and I said to myself, “To hell with it”. I was going to get
even just a little bit for the way she was embarrassing me. I opened the outhouse door and
threw the spider on her at the exact same time my daddy came out the back door of the
house pulling out his tallywacker and was peeing in the weeds. Penelope screamed and
come running out of that outhouse slapping herself like crazy, trying to kill that spider.
There she was with her fancy panties and shorts down around her ankles with her monkey
hanging out looking at my daddy who was looking back at her. I was laughing my head off.
Oh how sweet revenge is. Upon seeing my daddy, she screamed again and jerked her
britches up to cover her little bush. She yelled at me saying, “You’re an uncouth Philistine
animal and plain white trash and I hate you and never want to see you again.” I told her it
was just a joke and to “save the drama for your Momma”, but I was wasting my breath, our
romance didn’t stand a snowballs chance in hell. It was over, dead and buried.
Chap-5
Penelope looked like Annette on the Mickey Mouse club on TV and me and about ten million
other boys had a crush on Annette. I’d expressed that I thought she was prettier than a
speckled puppy in front of the family, Momma quickly responded, “A pretty face often hides
an evil heart boy, don’t be fooled by a pretty face, be careful.” As a teenager I didn’t listen.
I wished I had. I did feel uncomfortable about her being so rich and me being almost dirt
poor and I had a pipe dream that love could erase those differences. I didn’t realize that
there was too large a gulf that love couldn’t cross until her visit to my house.
I could tell almost immediately by the looks she gave while looking around at my house that
she was put off. The first thing that caught her attention was little Bobby Gene standing
there like a country bumpkin with his forefinger about halfway up his nose digging for
boogers. He saw her looking at him and produced a fine specimen of a snot ball and said,
“Do you want some, they good.” She said, “Ugh, what a little hick. That is so sick.”
Momma didn’t help by being rude to her, but what Penelope didn’t know is Momma was rude
to everybody, it was just her nature. Most folks have a good side and a bad side, well in
Momma’s case the bad side was a lot bigger than the good side and I could tell Penelope
had gotten on her bad side within five minutes of walking through our front door. Momma
rolled her eyes as she was leaving the front room to go fix us all lunch. As she was exiting
she said under her breath, where Penelope could not hear, “Damn little miss fancy pants.”
I was proud of Momma; she really put on the dog for Penelope. She put out our best
stained and cracked plastic plates with our old jelly jars for drinking glasses. She had fried
up a big mess of squirrel with a pot of pinto beans and skillet cornbread. Folks let me tell
you there ain’t no better eatin’ than those vittles. She’d topped that off with rhubarb pie and
cherry koolaid. Penelope’s eyes got big. She’d never seen such a free for all with all the
snatching, grabbing and gobbling that was going on at that table.
She stuck her nose straight up in the air like one of those dumb turkeys does when rain
comes, and drown themselves with their stupidity. She said, “Is there anything else to eat,
“and Sammy Lee smarted off, “Shore, we gots some rock soup and toe jam sandwiches.”
We heard that “ugh” word again and then “that’s nasty”. She pushed the beans and
cornbread around on her plate and even took a couple of bites acting like she was eating,
but she wasn’t touching her squirrel, you could tell she wasn’t having any of that. Bobby
Gene was sitting on the other side of her and being the littlest he usually ended up with the
least amount of food. He kept eyeballing that piece of squirrel on her plate. About half way
through the meal his little booger pickers snuck up on her plate and slipped that squirrel off
into his pocket. She’d seen him do it but was glad it was gone.
The longer she was there, the more she looked down her nose at us. You could see it in
her eyes; she thought we were lower than snails’ bellies. This hurt my feelings but I couldn’t
change who I was or my surroundings. She made me ashamed of who I was and of my
family and I didn’t like it.
After a couple of hours she said, “I need to use the powder room.” I said, “What’s a powder
room.” Whatever it was I knew we didn’t have one of them. She said, “The bathroom,
stupid.” She’d never called me that before and the back of my neck got real red and hot. I
said, “All we gots is an outhouse.” She said, “That ought to be an experience to tell people
about.” Then she said, “You’ll have to stand guard, I’m afraid of snakes and spiders.” I
wanted to tell her about a big black snake that stayed in the outhouse a lot because of the
rats and mice but I didn’t. It was just as well, she didn’t see him anyway. Because it was
summer there were plenty of gnats, chiggers, fleas, skeeters, flies and no-seeims around to
pester you while you were doing your business. We didn’t even notice them ourselves but
Penelope did.
When she went inside and got a good smell I heard that “ugh” word again and she said, “I
can’t use this, the smell is disgusting.” I said, “It’s either that or the bushes.” She said,
“Okay but you keep guard.” In a minute, “Where’s the toilet paper?” I said, “We ain’t got
none of that, just tear a page out of that Sears catalog, that’s what we use.” I could hear her
mumble to herself. “Wait til I tell my friends about this.” Again I felt embarrassed and now
everyone at school was going to know how poor we were. I’d never felt poor before her visit
and I was having a lot of mixed feelings going through my young brain.
As I was standing there on shit house guard detail, a granddaddy long legs spider walked
right over my big toe of my left foot. I reached down and picked him up. It hit me all at
once. I could tell Penelope and I were through by the way she was acting and the way she
was looking at me and my family, and I said to myself, “To hell with it”. I was going to get
even just a little bit for the way she was embarrassing me. I opened the outhouse door and
threw the spider on her at the exact same time my daddy came out the back door of the
house pulling out his tallywacker and was peeing in the weeds. Penelope screamed and
come running out of that outhouse slapping herself like crazy, trying to kill that spider.
There she was with her fancy panties and shorts down around her ankles with her monkey
hanging out looking at my daddy who was looking back at her. I was laughing my head off.
Oh how sweet revenge is. Upon seeing my daddy, she screamed again and jerked her
britches up to cover her little bush. She yelled at me saying, “You’re an uncouth Philistine
animal and plain white trash and I hate you and never want to see you again.” I told her it
was just a joke and to “save the drama for your Momma”, but I was wasting my breath, our
romance didn’t stand a snowballs chance in hell. It was over, dead and buried.
Chap-6 Hornets
I’d only been sitting there for about fifteen minutes but to a six year old sitting there keeping
deadly quiet it seemed like hours. The old brown hunting coat I was wearing was about four
sizes too big, wrapped around me like a blanket. It was a hand me down from the Lansing
family. Mary Jane was Momma’s best friend since they were teenagers together. Mary Jane
was a big woman with a jolly personality. She loved to laugh and nothing seemed to ever
upset her. Well let me take that back. She was a pro wrestling nut. Every time it came on TV,
she’d be right in front of it hollering for her favorite wrestler. She really got into it; she plum
despised one wrestler in particular. His name was Dick the Bruiser. One night while we were
over at their house visiting, Dick was beating this other wrestler to a bloody pulp.
Mary had been in the kitchen cutting up chicken for supper, watching the TV through the
door. All of a sudden she snapped and screamed, “You dirty son of a bitch, get offin that
fella”, and she charged that TV with a butcher knife stabbing the screen three or four times
before Noble, her husband, could take the knife away from her and quiet her down. Luckily
she didn’t bust the TV. She’d busted one the previous year with a lamp she’d thrown through
it trying to brain old Dick the Bruiser. Noble had told her one more broken TV and he’d not let
her watch wrestling anymore. I believe that would have been the death of her.
She loved her wrestling. She had a boy named Johnny, he was four years older than me and
was a big ole beefy built fella and when he outgrew anything Mary would give them to Momma
for me, and whatever was worn out Momma would cut it up for patches. You know thinking
back I don’t recollect I owned any clothes that weren’t patched. The Lansing’s were better off
financially than our family and any clothes I got from big boy Johnny was like Christmas for
me. When I outgrew anything, Sammy Lee got it and when he outgrew it Bobby Gene got it.
By the time Bobby got some of these clothes all they were was patches. That would have
been a good nickname for him ‘cause all his clothes were patches.
CHARLESRICHARDSHEETZ-BOOKS
251-937-4836
I’d only been sitting there for about fifteen minutes but to a six year old sitting there keeping
deadly quiet it seemed like hours. The old brown hunting coat I was wearing was about four
sizes too big, wrapped around me like a blanket. It was a hand me down from the Lansing
family. Mary Jane was Momma’s best friend since they were teenagers together. Mary Jane
was a big woman with a jolly personality. She loved to laugh and nothing seemed to ever
upset her. Well let me take that back. She was a pro wrestling nut. Every time it came on TV,
she’d be right in front of it hollering for her favorite wrestler. She really got into it; she plum
despised one wrestler in particular. His name was Dick the Bruiser. One night while we were
over at their house visiting, Dick was beating this other wrestler to a bloody pulp.
Mary had been in the kitchen cutting up chicken for supper, watching the TV through the
door. All of a sudden she snapped and screamed, “You dirty son of a bitch, get offin that
fella”, and she charged that TV with a butcher knife stabbing the screen three or four times
before Noble, her husband, could take the knife away from her and quiet her down. Luckily
she didn’t bust the TV. She’d busted one the previous year with a lamp she’d thrown through
it trying to brain old Dick the Bruiser. Noble had told her one more broken TV and he’d not let
her watch wrestling anymore. I believe that would have been the death of her.
She loved her wrestling. She had a boy named Johnny, he was four years older than me and
was a big ole beefy built fella and when he outgrew anything Mary would give them to Momma
for me, and whatever was worn out Momma would cut it up for patches. You know thinking
back I don’t recollect I owned any clothes that weren’t patched. The Lansing’s were better off
financially than our family and any clothes I got from big boy Johnny was like Christmas for
me. When I outgrew anything, Sammy Lee got it and when he outgrew it Bobby Gene got it.
By the time Bobby got some of these clothes all they were was patches. That would have
been a good nickname for him ‘cause all his clothes were patches.
CHARLESRICHARDSHEETZ-BOOKS
251-937-4836
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