Remember the Still
By: Michael Cottle
“What are you doing? Idiot!” Will grabbed the map from Robbie’s hand and shook the flames out.
“I thought fire might reveal something. You know, like in the movies.” Robbie was a little surprised that the idea didn’t really work.
Will frowned and simply shook his head. They had been searching for the whiskey still for hours. The woods were heavy and thick. The smell of it was tangled up in a big mess of smoke, stinkweed and jasmine.
“I ain’t got time for your dumb skull, numbskull!” Will took out his white handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He took the moist cloth and then wiped the charred edges from the corner of the map. The ashes scattered in the underbrush.
“Well, we ain’t havin’ much luck no other way yet” Robbie said.
“You ain’t looking in the right place. You think Daddy used to make that shine from nothing at all? You numbskull. No, there was a still back here alright, and that sum-gun ain’t never been found by no one- ever.”
“It looks like we ain’t gonna’ find it either Will” Robbie said.
“We gonna’ find it now. We got the doggone map that you nearly burned up for no good reason. That’s something.”
“I don’t even know if we can make it back to the house” Robbie said. “The dark is coming up mighty fast.”
“Well, I’m findin’ it, even if I got to stay out here all night” Will said.
“What you goin’ do with it when you find it? You don’t know nothing about stilling no whiskey” Robbie said. “I seen you try to boil a hot dog before.”
“Makin’ whiskey’s different you numbskull. Daddy used to home make it, and we can too. It’s in the blood. You either are born to make whiskey or you ain’t born to make no whiskey. You understand that?”
“You ain’t never made no whiskey. Do you even have a recipe? You got a formulization for it?”
Will was a little taken back by Robbie’s fifty cent word. “You look that word up or something?”
“Maybe we ain’t found no still cause we wouldn’t even know what the heck it is if we did find it” Robbie frowned.
“Everybody’s got to start somewheres, Robbie, and I’m startin’
today. You think Colonel Sanders knew how to fry a chicken when he was a youngin’?”
“Chicken he knew. He had to figure out how to do that franchizing deal? That’s what took him so long to figure out.”
“Well, we ain’t gonna’ do no franchizing, I just want to make some whiskey dammit.”
It was about that time when Will fell over a spool of copper tubing nearly completely covered in pine straw. There was a nasty bruise on his shin, but he was too excited to pay any mind to it.
“Well I’ll be” Robbie said. “We actually found it!”
“Remember Robbie, life is just a memory.”
“We actually found it” Robbie said it again in disbelief.
“Remember Robbie, think of all that life can be.”
“Stop singing that stupid song and give me a hand, will ya?’”
By: Michael Cottle
“What are you doing? Idiot!” Will grabbed the map from Robbie’s hand and shook the flames out.
“I thought fire might reveal something. You know, like in the movies.” Robbie was a little surprised that the idea didn’t really work.
Will frowned and simply shook his head. They had been searching for the whiskey still for hours. The woods were heavy and thick. The smell of it was tangled up in a big mess of smoke, stinkweed and jasmine.
“I ain’t got time for your dumb skull, numbskull!” Will took out his white handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He took the moist cloth and then wiped the charred edges from the corner of the map. The ashes scattered in the underbrush.
“Well, we ain’t havin’ much luck no other way yet” Robbie said.
“You ain’t looking in the right place. You think Daddy used to make that shine from nothing at all? You numbskull. No, there was a still back here alright, and that sum-gun ain’t never been found by no one- ever.”
“It looks like we ain’t gonna’ find it either Will” Robbie said.
“We gonna’ find it now. We got the doggone map that you nearly burned up for no good reason. That’s something.”
“I don’t even know if we can make it back to the house” Robbie said. “The dark is coming up mighty fast.”
“Well, I’m findin’ it, even if I got to stay out here all night” Will said.
“What you goin’ do with it when you find it? You don’t know nothing about stilling no whiskey” Robbie said. “I seen you try to boil a hot dog before.”
“Makin’ whiskey’s different you numbskull. Daddy used to home make it, and we can too. It’s in the blood. You either are born to make whiskey or you ain’t born to make no whiskey. You understand that?”
“You ain’t never made no whiskey. Do you even have a recipe? You got a formulization for it?”
Will was a little taken back by Robbie’s fifty cent word. “You look that word up or something?”
“Maybe we ain’t found no still cause we wouldn’t even know what the heck it is if we did find it” Robbie frowned.
“Everybody’s got to start somewheres, Robbie, and I’m startin’
today. You think Colonel Sanders knew how to fry a chicken when he was a youngin’?”
“Chicken he knew. He had to figure out how to do that franchizing deal? That’s what took him so long to figure out.”
“Well, we ain’t gonna’ do no franchizing, I just want to make some whiskey dammit.”
It was about that time when Will fell over a spool of copper tubing nearly completely covered in pine straw. There was a nasty bruise on his shin, but he was too excited to pay any mind to it.
“Well I’ll be” Robbie said. “We actually found it!”
“Remember Robbie, life is just a memory.”
“We actually found it” Robbie said it again in disbelief.
“Remember Robbie, think of all that life can be.”
“Stop singing that stupid song and give me a hand, will ya?’”