“I thought you said you was gonna bring all of it down here with you?” Clayton turned and shouted at his youngest brother.
“Naw, Clayton, you know I only brought three of ‘em back!” Earl shouted over his shoulder.
“I didn’t know, that’s why I was askin’!” Clayton replied.
“Well, I only brought three,” Earl snapped.
“So that means I got to go all the way back to mama’s house?” Clayton leaned against the stone wall.
“I guess,” Earl stopped and struggled to let the cases of moonshine that he was carrying up until this point on to the floor. “I guess we could get ol’ Russell to head up to mama’s and get the rest,” Earl added in between the waning heavy breaths.
“Damn Earl, that’s a good idea! Let me bring all this up and I’ll go get him,” Clayton agreed. He wiped a long bead of saliva that hung from his lip as he carried the bottles of moonshine to the top of the stairs.
Standing at the top of the stairs stood the other brother, Russel. Clayton groaned as he lowered the moonshine and grabbed his back. “Dammit Russel who’s watching the pumps and the booze?”
“There’s some lady on the phone,” Russel mumbled.
“Well, what does she want?” Clayton asked, his patience becoming extremely thin.
“I ain’t for sure. She’s talking business stuff,” Russel explained in a confused tone.
“What kind of business stuff?” Clayton wanted to know.
“I don’t know! She’s using big words and has a Yankee accent!” Russel complained.
“Dang it! Take these here bottles downstairs! And when you’re done with that, go back up to momma’s house and get the rest of the moonshine!” Clayton ordered.
“Why? I got to go back to momma’s. Earl didn’t get all of it?” Russel asked, sounding as if he was going to burst into tears at any second.
“No, he did not! Now go and do what I told you while I go talk to this woman!” Clayton bellowed. He wiped the sweat from the back of his neck as he headed to the backroom.
“Earl! Where the hell are you?” Russel cried as he headed down the stairs.
“Who the hell is this?” Clayton barked. Clayton grunted and breathed heavily as he held the phone to his ear. He listened the best he could as he kept his eye on the pumps. Clayton looked around to see where his brothers were, as he began to worry about leaving the cash register unattended. He felt relieved when he heard his two dim witted brothers carrying the moonshine up to the coolers.
“What is my answer? My answer to what?’ Clayton shouted into the phone. He listened for a few more moments before he finally realized what the woman was saying to him. His eyes began to grow almost as big as his head. His hand began to tremble as the rush of excitement flooded his senses, reducing him to a series of incoherent stuttering.
“You want to come and meet with me? Offer us money? Where are you from again?” Clayton asked, sounding slightly confused. He nodded his head as he listened to her explain her proposal one more time. Clayton thanked her and hung up the phone. Russell and Earl finished unloading the moonshine and walked over towards where their brother was standing.
“Y’all ain’t going to believe this!” Clayton gleefully exclaimed.
__________________________________________________________________________________
The smoky breeze managed to infiltrate the conference room, leaving an undesirable scent. Bob Carrington walked over towards the window and made sure that it was now firmly closed. He grimaced as he looked over at Marty Klondyke.
“So glad the Rolling Rock corporate offices decided to leave the beautiful mountains to relocate to this shithole,” Bob lamented.
“Wait a minute? You don’t like Newark? I mean, what’s not to like?’ Marty asked sarcastically.
“Very funny, Marty! So, where the hell are we going to again?” Bob Carrington asked.
“Louisville Kentucky then we are renting a car and driving,” Marty replied.
“How far do we have to drive? It’s not like last time when we had to drive up that mountain in Colorado, is it? “Bob grimaced.
“This might be worse, to be honest with you,” Marty said slowly as he leaned as close as he could to his portable mirror.
“I hope you’re kidding.” Bob wearily replied.
“Are we ready?” Sara Michaels announced as she briskly walked into the room with no warning whatsoever.
Bob turned towards their boss as the sound of Marty’s mirror rang out through the air. Sara shot him a brief look of disgust as she stood stoically in the middle of the room. Her classes hung around her neck, dangling from her gold chain, as she clutched her attaché case.
“Ready as the day I was born,” Marty said as he flashed a wide smile. Bob just glared at him as he slowly nodded. Sara nodded in return and looked over at Marty.
“Here is a copy of the proposal we are planning to introduce to a Mr. Clayton Stover, proprietor of the Stover Filling Station, Blackwater, Kentucky. We will be offering him 5 million dollars for the rights to their Stover Moonshine. I talked to Clayton on the phone, hence the reason for our visit, Sara abruptly stopped talking and looked up at Bob and Marty.
“So, you are going to give us this proposal when we get there? Or are you going to email them?” Marty asked as he stared at her attaché case that she was clutching so tight to her chest.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sara appeared slightly flustered as she quickly realized her mistake. She opened her case and produced two folders which she handed to Bob and Marty. They accepted them without saying a word. They gathered their belongings and were on their way to Kentucky.
The plane landed and they found themselves standing next to their rental car, impressed that everything went so smoothly. They all looked at each other with trepidation while Marty stood next to the driver’s side door with the keys.
“So, I guess I’m driving! Hop in!” Marty gleefully exclaimed as he entered the car.
Sara immediately stepped in front of Bob and opened the passenger side door and sat in the seat. Bob just stood there for a second before he accepted his fate and got into the backseat.
Marty successfully led them to the highway and according to the GPS, they were headed in the right direction. Bob sat silently in the back, his eyes glued to the mountains that were becoming more and more prominent as the landscape began to change. He had a bad feeling the minute he got off the plane and it was only getting worse. Sara was going through her briefcase, organizing papers. Marty played with the radio dial but when he realized all the stations were just country music, he abruptly turned it off.
“These people were are meeting,” Marty began as he glanced over at Sara. “I can’t imagine them being anything else but a bunch of dumb rednecks. You shouldn’t have any problem bamboozling them, Sara. I mean that’s how you got this job in the first place, right? I mean how many people did you have to sleep with? You get to cruise through the backwoods and swindle these inbred hicks out of their moonshine so we can take it and sell under the Rolling Rock brand name? I mean that’s a pretty sweet gig,” Marty just laughed with no intention of hearing her try to defend herself.
“Marty, shut up! Put the radio back on if you are going to be an asshole!” Bob cried from the back. Sara just glared at Marty and put her earbuds deep inside her ears.
“Hahahaha! Sure!” Marty answered over his shoulder. He reached down and started playing with the radio again as Bob rolled his eyes. Sara leaned her head against her window as she continued to peruse through her documents.
They finally pulled into the dusty driveway under the faded sign that read,” Stover’s Filling Station.” Underneath this sign hung an additional sign that read,” Stover Moonshine available here!’ They all stared at this sign and quietly marveled at the crude letters and archaic design. Marty pulled up alongside one of the ancient gas pumps.
“I guess they could film another sequel for the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and just called the Appalachian Mountain Massacre or the Kentucky Chainsaw Massacre!” Marty chuckled. Bob and Sara didn’t say a word as Sara carefully placed the papers on her lap inside of her briefcase. Bob gulped as he stared at the entrance to the gas station. He shook his head as he felt that bad feeling in the pit of his stomach spread to the rest of his body, leaving him anxious.
The three of them entered and immediately winced. The aroma that lingered inside the building was reminiscent of a dead body. Marty looked around as he pinched the end of his nose.
“I wonder what that Yankee Candle is called. Dead Bodies? The Scent of a Serial Killer?” Marty exclaimed loud enough for both Bob and Sara to hear him. Bob whacked him on the shoulder as Marty continued to chuckle.
“Can I help y’all?” Clayton asked.
“Yes, I am Sara Micheals and I talked to a gentleman named Clayton Stover. Am I speaking with him?” She asked Clayton. He just smiled a toothless grin and pointed to the stained name patch on the front of his faded coveralls. Sara squinted through her already thick glasses and did her best to read the name. She quickly figured out that this man was Clayton, and she smiled,
“Where is the restroom?” Bob asked.
“Out back,” Clayton replied as he tossed Bob a large piece of wood from underneath the cash register. Bob managed to catch the log with no warning it was traveling towards him. Bob just looked at Clayton then down at the log that he had just successfully plucked from the air. Bob examined it and found the key dangling from a small metal ring on the other side of the piece of wood. He nodded and headed out to the back.
“Mr. Stover, here is our proposal if you could take a look,” Sara asked as she gingerly laid the folder on the counter.
“That’s nice and all ma’am but I can’t read,” Clayton said.
Marty and Sara just stood there. Marty turned to Sara,” I can’t say I’m surprised,” he mumbled. Sara ignored him and moved closer to the counter. She opened the file and found the section that contained the signatures. Clayton just looked up at her and flashed that toothless grin one more time.
“Sir, you are Clayton Stover, owner of Stover Moonshine as well as this gas station?” Sara asked just to make sure that she didn’t miss any crucial information.
“Well, you’re half right, ma’am. My name is Clayton Stover but I ain’t the owner of the moonshine or the filling station that we’re in right now,” Clayton announced.
“Wait? You aren’t the owner?” Marty asked as he rushed over to the counter.
“No, I ain’t,” Clayton answered with an angry look.
“Who is the owner?” Sara asked.
“Can your mother read?” Marty asked.
Before any of them could make another comment, a high-pitched scream filled the air. The high frequency of the shrieking was unnerving and sounded as if it was born of immense pain.
“What was that?” Sara asked, her face pale as freshly hung drywall.
“That sounded a hell of a lot like Ben!” Marty said as he started to tremble.
“We got dinner, Clayton! Russel’ coming in to help you with the main course!” Earl shouted from where Ben had left a few moments earlier.
The next thing Sara and Marty saw was darkness. Their bodies fell to the ground like two sacks of potatoes dropped from a hot air balloon. As the blackness washed over them, they could hear the brothers laughing.