A Drink with the Deacon

"I'm Skip." The voice came from behind me. The thug at the counter kept a close eye on me as I half turned to skip. I only half turned, so as not to give my back to the tattooed heavy weight behind the low counter.

"Need to talk to you about your boat, but not here," I was acting a lot more confident than I felt at that moment.

"Come on, we will go down to her." It was a good suggestion.

I nodded my agreement. Once he stood, I could guessed how he got his ass whipped. The man was probably in his thirties, but he was small. I mean real small. He was probably five five and that was giving him the push. Worst of all he was light in the ass. Even in the heavy wool coat he looked like a stick drawing of a man.

When we cleared the door of the pit, a cold wind slapped me around. I decided the boat might not be a good choice after all. "Let's go a couple of blocks to the cafe down the street." It wasn't as much a suggestion as an order.

"Look, unless you are going to make me a serious offer, I would just as soon go back into Reno's." Skip seemed to be a hard ass, even if he was tiny. It might even have been because he was tiny.

I stopped even in the cold wind. "Look skip, I don't think I want to talk business with a bunch of thugs listening. So, if you don't want to go some place where I can feel comfortable, to hell with you and your tub." I needed him but I also needed to be in control.

He backed down as I expected him to do. "I guess I can understand about the others in there. It isn't my first choice either. I would ordinarily be in the pit up the street. I got in a fight there. They told me not to come back for a while." He sounded proud of the fight.

It was the moment of truth when I asked, "So, how did you make out?"

"Got my ass whipped," he said proudly. "But it took two of them."

I had a choice, so I chose to see what he was made of. "Well getting your ass whipped even by two still makes you a loser." I waited to see what he would do.

He stepped back giving himself room to maneuver. "Tell you what friend, if you want to see what this loser can do, just bring it on."

I laughed but I did not relax. "Maybe you will do after all." I laughed again but I kept my eye on him.

His anger dropped as quickly as it had risen. "Do for what?" he asked.

I didn't answer him. I simply nodded toward the diner which was close at hand. I found a corner table away from everyone. I took a seat against the wall. I noted Skip took the other wall seat.

"Now what business is it you have with me. By the way, I don't do business with people whose name I don't know." It was a clear statement of fact.

"Burke, Deacon Burke I replied." I didn't offer him my hand and neither did he.

"So what illegal venture do you want to use the 'Lazy Susan' for?"

"Why do you think it has to be illegal?" I asked.

"Well, if it isn't there probably isn't enough in it to pay off the loan. If I can't pay off the loan, you can buy her at the sheriff's boat auction.

"Have they foreclosed on you yet?" I asked it concerned, since it would be much harder to deal with a bank.

"No, the bank gave me thirty days to catch up the payments, or else. They might as well not have bothered. I owe more in back payments than I could earn if I ran her night and day."

"Why didn't you do that before you got behind?" I knew there had to be a reason. Skip didn't seem lazy.

"Deacon, you don't know the river shippers. All of them know the captains they do business with. They all knew my dad and he barely made it. They still see me as a boy tagging along behind my dad. Don't help none that I am short."

"How much do you need to catch the boat up?" I asked it so I would know whether to enter into a deal with him. A deal on a boat for a month would not be a good one.

"I could catch it up for a hundred bucks. The pay off is almost five hundred." He looked distastefully at the coffee cup. I looked hard but did not see the hand tremor of a drunk.

"You a drinker?" I asked it off handed, but he understood.

"Yeah when I get depressed, which is about all the time right now." He looked away. He was telling met the truth but he didn't much like it.

"Okay, let me explain then. I can buy liquor from the maker about a hundred miles from here. Last time I tried to distribute it, I pretty much had to fight my way out of town." I didn't bother to tell him it had been more than once. "I am looking for a safer way to distribute."

"Just sell it to the gangs. That is the safest way."

"If I do that, I might as well be working for wages. No, I want to make enough money to make the risks worthwhile."

"Well since I am not gonna work free, it still won't be cheap," he looked at me smiling. "Plus I have to think about the boat getting shot full of holes."

"If the boat gets shot full of holes, you probably won't have a thing to worry about. I expect you will be what they are shooting at."

"Good point, plus I expect I won't have the boat if I don't do something like this."

I simply nodded my agreement.

"So how much you gonna pay me?" he asked.

"Well, I haven't decided yet just what I need you to do. You might be able to help me with that."

"You are talking about white liquor aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes I am," I replied.

"Deacon, there ain't as much money in white as there is in some of the others. That stuff that comes in from Canada gets the best prices."

"Well I can't get your boat to Canada and I don't know anyone in Canada." The smile he flashed me should have worried me.

"Deacon, do you know what medical alcohol is?" I saw the smile fade when I shook my head.

"It is grain alcohol with no flavor at all. It is a lot like white liquor."

"Okay so what?"

"You finished that coffee?" he asked.

"Sure, wasn't much good anyway." I tossed a dime on the table as I stood to follow Skip.

The two block walk to the drug store was cold. It was made even colder by the fact that I thought Skip might be wasting my time.

"Martin, how you doing?" he asked a youngish man in a white jacket. The man smiled then nodded. "Martin, this is the Deacon. Deacon, Martin here is a chemist of sorts. His dad owns this place."

"Nice to meet you," I said with a smile.

"Martin could I have a bottle of your special cough medicine." The look on Skips face was quite content. Since we were the only customers, Skip opened the bottle then said, "After you Deacon."

I took a mouthful of the mixture. The taste was very good and it burned just like the alcohol that had to be in it. "Damn," was all I could say.

Skip, took the bottle, then finished it off in one pull. "Martin, you do make great cough syrup."

"So Martin, you getting rich making this stuff?" I asked it as I handed him the dime in payment.

"No sir, Daddy wont let me sell it when he is around. He is afraid the cops will take his store away."

"That seems a legitimate fear Martin." It was what came to mind first.

"I know Deacon," he replied.

"Martin, what time do you go to lunch. I think we might need to have a little talk." I was smiling broadly as I said it. Martin added a new dynamic to the plan. He looked like a school boy, but he was already in the liquor business. That being the case I didn't feel that I was going to corrupt him. I had known all along that a lot of the liquor in speaks was home made. It had never occurred to me that some of it was made my chemists.

"Well Skip?" I asked once we were seated in the cafe. "Have you given any thought to how much you want to travel up and down the river?"

"Do you mean how many trips I want to make or how much I am going to charge per trip?" Skip asked it but he knew what I meant.

"Per trip Skip?" I asked.

"Traveling both ways and helping to protect the cargo should be worth thirty bucks a trip." He said it with a straight face.

"You are crazy. Hell I could just wait and buy the tub at auction. I could get a skipper for her for a few bucks."

"True but not one with ten years experience, and one who will fight for you cargo. No thirty is cheap."

"You won't have to fight the first time. Nobody is going to know what the cargo is on that first trip. After that one you might be right. Okay thirty a trip but guaranteed not to go up, even if you have to pull a trigger."

"Good, now you are going to make sure I don't lose the boat?" He was grinning while he said it.

"Well, I sure as hell don't want it, but I will talk to the bank for you." I made no move to leave the table.

"Deacon they are really on my ass. I said thirty days, but I am not sure they will wait that long."

"After I talk to Martin, I will talk to the bank. Take it easy Skip, I need that boat. I will make damn sure it doesn't get away from us." I saw a look on his face I didn't like, I figured it was time to get everything straight.

"Skip, I need to say this just so you know. I don't want you to take offense, but you need to hear it. If you try to pull anything on me, I will kill you. I might be younger than you, but I damn sure killed more men."

"Deacon, are you threatening me?" he asked.

"That is a fair characterization of it. If you try to steal from me, or you try to cut me out, I will kill you. This is your only warning."

"Okay, I give you my word. You save my boat and I will not try to screw you. If you don't, I will do whatever it takes to save her."

"You had no chance to save her till I came along. Skip, don't let your mouth overload your ass." He looked as though he wanted to say something but decided against it. It was a good thing since the pissing contest could have escalated into something more dangerous.

Not too much later Martin arrived. I made sure no one could hear me. "Martin would you be interested in doing a little job for me now and again?"

You mean making the cough syrup. I can't get enough alcohol to make it in volume. Tell me could you get enough ingredients to treat a hundred gallons of alkie?"

"That is a lot of booze but yeah sure. I can buy most of it in the grocery store. It's the proportions that are tough not the stuff in it." He smiled knowing he had a secret.

"Now Martin here is your problem. If you ruin a hundred gallons of hootch, I am not going to be a happy man. With all that in mind, how much to change the booze into something special.

"You buy the ingredients and I will work on the formula. I should get twenty dollars for it." He sounded a little tentative.

"Only if you can get me some bottles and labels. You know all the right people, I don't." I looked at him hard while he gave it some thought.

"Sure, I can do that." He looked at me with the confidence of youth.

"Kid, if you can't deliver, don't promise me you can." I gave him a dangerous look.

"I can deliver all right." He smiled the wise ass smile again.

I nodded since my last tough guy look had not accomplished what I had hoped. "Do you happen to know of a place where we can make the stuff?"

"I do," Skip said. "There is large storage building behind my place. I can empty it for you."

"Maybe, how long does it take to change the stuff?" I asked it of Martin.

"Once I have the formula right, a few hours to a few days depending on how much change you want. It kind of mellows the longer it sits."

"Well kid the longer it sits around the more chance of us losing it all. Jail would be the best we could hope for." I could still remember the gunmen from my last trip.

Not much more was said. Martin rushed off to his father's store. Skip took me to see his banker.

"James Lawrence," the man said. He didn't seem to be impressed with me. I supposed it was my work clothes as much as anything else.

"Mr. Lawrence, I need to find out the status on Mr. Ever's boat."

"I can look it up, if you like sir. Would you tell me your interest in the matter?"

"Skip is about to enter into a business arrangement with me. Part of that arrangement is the use of his boat. I wish to be quite sure the boat is available."

"Skip, you sure you don't mind me talking to this gentleman?"

"No, if he don't hire me, I am gonna lose the Lazy Susan and daddy is gonna roll over in his grave."

"All right, Skip borrowed five hundred dollars on the boat. I made the loan against my better judgment. I probably would not have but Skip borrowed it to pay off his dad's estate debts. I hoped he could make the boat pay. He hasn't made a single payment. We have gone along almost a year without a payment. I would have foreclosed before except that the boat isn't worth five hundred dollars."

"Okay, let me ask you a couple of questions. First of all I need to know you won't foreclose for a month. What can I do to keep that from happening?" I kept my eyes on his.

"Well we really haven't decided what to do with Skip. If I could show that skip had made a couple of payments, and promised to continue then we might do something."

I handed the man twenty dollars. "I would like a receipt for that please." It was Skip who said it.

We were outside when I said, "Now you make that run, or I am gonna take that twenty out of your ass instead of your pay."

"Deacon, I plan to make this run. I also plan to keep on making them until you either, get tired of it or killed. Then I think I might just take over for you."

"I might get tired, but I wouldn't count on me getting killed."

"I won't," Skip said.

With the money for the bike gone and skips bank payment I was felling the pinch. I could do the liquor thing but if the truck gave me trouble it was going to be touch and go. I parted company with Skip outside the bank. Once back in the hotel I knocked on Rachel's door. There was no answer. I had no idea where she might be so I pulled the railroad watch from my pocket. I hadn't realized how long all the waiting had taken. It wasn't quite time for dinner but it was close. I left my door open while I sat down with the paper.

"Hey Deacon," the voice belonged to Rachel.

"Hi, I was waiting for you."

"Good, let's go eat I am starved. The movie was great you should have come along."

"Well, I wasn't invited." I smiled to let her know it was a joke.

"How could I invite you? I never know where you are." She wasn't smiling.

"Okay the preparations are over. Let's go eat and I will fill you in." Over dinner I gave her all the information.

When I had finished, she asked, "So you think this fancy liquor will bring us more money?"

"Yes I do. Even more important I think it will be easier to sell."

"And you think we need the boat thing?" she asked it still not sure.

"Yes, I think it will be easier to defend than the T."

"After that last trip I guess it is a good idea at that. So when do we go back to Kentucky."

"I think in the morning. Might as well get started."

"Suits me," she replied. "If we leave early, we can get there in one day's travel."

The drive was long and uneventful. Rachel's uncle's barn was cold. We loaded one hundred gallons of hooch. I didn't think we would ever get back with it. The T struggled up the hills. It seemed at times that I could have pushed it faster. We did not arrive back at the hotel until sun up the next day. I left the truck outside the diner with strict instructions for Rachel to keep an eye on it. I found Skip at the Pit.

"Skip, come on out I need to use that storage shed of yours." To his credit Skip got it right away. He followed me outside. When we made it back to the diner, I let him stare at Rachel a moment before I said, "Rachel this is Skip. Skip this is Rachel she is a partner."

Skip, had a hard time talking but he finally got a hello out. He squeezed in beside Rachel as he directed me to his house. The three of us made short work of the boxes. Skip had gone into the house to bring Rachel a glass of water when she asked, "Do you trust him with all this liquor?"

"Not really, do you want to stay here with it until it is on the boat."

"You mean, in the shed?" she asked.

"No, I think we can get you into the house."

"Where are you going to be?" she asked.

"I am going to have to get our chemist and his supplies. I want you to keep an eye on Skip. I don't want him making any visits to anyone. Just go with him if he tries to leave." As I spoke I removed the Webley pistol. I got it from a British pilot who wanted the German Luger I happened to have. The Luger was one of three I came by in a poker game.

"I don't know much about guns," Rachel informed me.

"Point it at him. He will get the message. If he don't, keep it pointed at him while you pull the trigger."

"I could never shoot anyone," she said.

"Well Rachel, imagine being back on that farm cause that is where you are going to be if we lose that liquor." Rachel nodded her understanding.

I drove to the pharmacy to drag Martin from behind the counter if necessary. It wasn't, he took one look at me then said a few woods to his father who shook his bead. Martin and I left together. Martin took me shopping all over town. As we went, I explained the situation with the liquor.

"So you want all hundred gallons doctored?" he asked.

"No Marty, I want fifty gallons doctored. I am going to leave with skip and the other fifty gallons in a day or so. The other fifty you can doctor but do it on a quart first I want to know what you are up to before you screw up the whole hundred gallons."

"Sure, I have to get a test batch anyway. It usually is less than a quart. A cup is plenty."

"Good," We arrived at Skip's house with a truck whose bed was littered with small boxes of one thing and another. I sat Marty up in the kitchen of skips house with a quart of white liquor and all his boxes.

Skip wasn't real happy with us using his kitchen until I reminded him that he was making almost as much as me and Rachel. Rachel went to sleep on Skip's sofa while I stood watch over the two of them. Marty was boiling hell out of acorns when Rachel awoke. Once she was on guard I slept for several hours.

It was well after dark when Skip and I loaded twenty cases of liquor onto the truck. At the very front of the truck bed my motorcycle was tied as well. It was still dark and cold when we loaded the liquor and bike on board the Lazy Susan.

Skip and I agreed that leaving before sunup was foolish and dangerous. The liquor took up most of the cargo area but only because we did not stack it very high. No sense risking it with such a small load. Skip and I shared a bedroll on the boat. The control area of the boat was too small for us to stretch out so we rearranged boxes of liquor. I didn't feel the need to heavily arm myself since only the four of us involved knew what the cargo of the Lazy Susan was.

Leaving Rachel and the kid alone was a calculated risk. They were close to the same age and might fall madly in love. Not likely, but it was possible that I would return to an empty storeroom and missing T.

Skip and I got only an hour or so of sleep before he was up starting a fire in the boiler. The boiler was open to the elements which caused some rust around the rivets. Skip saw me looking critically at it.

"Don't worry Deacon that is just surface rust. I checked the boiler over thoroughly just a few weeks ago."

"Shouldn't you paint it or something?" I asked.

"The heat would pop it off. I should scrape it though. I just kind of let the LS go to hell when it looked like I was gonna lose her. If we can make this work, I am gonna clean her up."

"Skip this ain't no career. We can do this probably long enough to make some money, but it is gonna end one day. Either the government will admit prohibition is stupid or the gangs will run us out of business. Hell, they will probably kill us anyway, so not much sense in worrying." Skip's smile probably matched my own. He looked kind of resigned to whatever might be coming.

The river was barely visible when we left the dock. I soon discovered that I was a terrible sailor. Even the gentle river made me queasy after a while.