by: Marty Chrisman
Jesse quietly opened the back door and slipped outside. He walked over to the old picnic table and sat down. He just needed some time alone and a breath of fresh air. The house was crowded with mourners just like it had been for the past two days. Tomorrow Cyrus could come after the boys and take them to church for the service on Saturday afternoon. Jesse’s tired old eyes swept across the barnyard. He could almost see the boys as children climbing the old oak tree or Bo when he was just a little thing chasing the chickens around the barnyard because it was so much fun.
He smiled as he remembered catching them when they were 8 and 12 sampling some of his shine that they’d found hidden in the barn. He whipped them good for that but it wasn’t too many years later that they were right there by his side helping him make the shine and delivering it too. Moonshine was tradition in this part of the country and like most other boys their age it was first hard liquor the boys had ever tasted.
He remembered them building the General Lee out in the barn (with a little help from Cooter) and how proud they had been when they showed the completed car to him for the first time. And lord, them boys could drive but then Jesse could too and he was the one who had taught them everything they knew about handling a car. That car was such a big part of their lives. He knew that Cooter had towed the General out to his farm after the accident and had stored there in barn.
His thoughts and memories were interrupted by Roscoe who had come out of the house. The sheriff had come by to pay his respects and it looked like he’d had more than a little of Jesse’s sipping shine. Roscoe wasn’t a drinking man so it didn’t take much to get him tipsy and moonshine is powerful stuff even if you were used to drinking it.
“Hi ya, Jesse…” Roscoe said slurring his words slightly “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I’m right here, Roscoe.” Jesse said.
Roscoe laughed that stupid laugh of his as he sat down on the bench on the other side of the table from Jesse. “I wanted to tell ya how sorry I am, Jess….about the boys and all….”
“Thank you, Roscoe. I know that.”
“It’s all my fault….all my fault.” Roscoe said in a weary voice “Them boys are dead because of me.”
“What are you talking about, Roscoe? It was an accident….a tire blew out and Bo lost control….that’s all it was…just an accident.”
“But if I hadn’t been chasing ‘em then Bo wouldn’t have been going so danged fast when it happened.” Roscoe said in a guilty voice “Maybe he wouldn’t have lost control like he done.” Roscoe cleared his throat “I couldn’t do nothing, Jess….they was just hurt so bad…”
“Roscoe, it ain’t your fault.” Jesse said reaching out and gently patting the other man’s hand “And I ain’t blaming you or nobody else for what happened.”
“You mean that, Jesse?” Roscoe said hopefully.
“Of course I do.” Jesse sighed softly “You best git home, Roscoe. You look like you could use some sleep.”
“I’ll do that, Jesse” Roscoe said, shoving himself to his feet “And I just want you to know again just how sorry I am…..I’m gonna miss them boys too. I’ve been chasing around the county since they was young un’s.”
“Go home, Roscoe.” Jesse said. Suddenly, he felt very old and very tired. He sat there for several long minutes, staring sightlessly at the horizon. Nothing would ever be the same again. This time there was no way to make things right. Slowly, Jesse finally shoved himself to his feet and went back into the house.