[Advance] There was a cow in the pasture next to Hightower’s – Henry Jackson Birmingham and his wife Mahogany bought the place in 1872, several months had passed and Mahogany had met old Josh but hadn’t told her husband much about it, there’s no Lots to say I think. They bought the place from Thomas August Smiley, a white neighbor, the Birminghams are black, who had inherited some money, and they got the place for a good price. Mahogany, has taken a liking to Silas’s younger brother, Jordan, as well as white neighbor Abernathy, on the opposite side of the Hightower farm from her; Jordan, who works on country history in town (Ozark, Alabama), and lives in the back of the store most of the time, when he’s not helping his father on the Hightower plantation, like Silas does , is now home for the weekend to help out. her dad Ella Hightower, the wife of Mr. Charles T. Hightower, is always in the background, but she’s there nonetheless. Charles, also heavy with age, has had heart problems in the past.

There was a cow in the pasture, Henry Birmingham had bought her a few weeks ago, she was watching old Josh fiddle around, watching, I would say, without interest, while Josh fiddled around fixing or trying to fix the barn door. , to be correct, the barn door hinges, and saw the cow out of the corner of his eye, on the other side of the fence, on the border between the two properties, the cow was staring, yawning, while Josh watched , now leaning against the barn a bit, Silas by the barn greasing a wheel for Hightower’s carriage, Josh getting annoyed with the newcomer to town, the next door neighbor. Jordan, his youngest son, was also on the plantation, working in a store in the Ozark, during the week and sleeping on a cot in the back of the store, coming home when she could to help Silas and Josh. . around the plantation, a kind of arrangement that Mr. Hightower, the owner, made with Josh a long time ago.

Old Josh was getting mad at the cow; it was as if the cow was looking at him or looking at him insignificantly. The morning sun seemed to fall directly on the cow’s head, and she also seemed to have a smile on her face, or so it seemed when her head was pointed in his direction, Josh was a distance away, of course, his old eyes, the the door hinges in his mind, a piece of moonlight hidden behind the door, the door he was working on, but the cow was looking that way, his way and it was aggravating, even though Josh couldn’t see Okay, image of the cow smirking, deliberately smirking.

Josh walked over to the fence, mug in hand, walked over to the fence, stared long and hard at the cow, then at the barbed wire fence, at his mug, at the cow, at the fence, and back to the light. of the moon. The cow’s name was Nelly; she had heard Mahogany, the owner’s wife, call it that.

“What do you have in that jar?” Silas yelled next to him.

“Spring water…” Josh shuddered as if to say it was none of his business, but he didn’t, he just gave her a look, a long look that said what he was thinking.

Weed growth shielded and camouflaged Josh, on the other side of the fence, the cow consuming most of the image if anyone, like Hightower, looked her way,

Now both Josh and the cow were starting side by side, face to face you could say: big eyes into little eyes, Josh picked up the old broken metal pot, which he had brought to cover the jug and poured some alcohol. illegal in it, he fed it to the cow, and the cow drank it, and back on the ground, Josh stared, taking another drink himself. The cow now had a dull glow to her face and misty tin eyes.

The jug now between the cow and the man, and the cow lying on all fours, like this, they both squatted bravely side by side, and then Silas appeared.

“Dad, I don’t know if we’re not going to get in trouble, Mr. Highter doesn’t drink moonshine on his land, nor does Mr. Berham… he feeds that cow of his the same way…!

“Huh,” Josh said.

“Your job,” Josh said, “I guess we have a month, right?” and the cow said “Mo…oooo!” And old Josh translated that into more moonshine and took a lick.

“I suppose you’d like a cup to drink from, right?” Josh stammered.

Then Josh looked at his son, his son said, “I know how to drink out of a mug, don’t I?” And Josh passed the pitcher.

Old Josh and the Birmingham Cow

[1873] Episode #19/Part II of II

It had been a few days since Josh had his birmingham cow binge…

“Dey doesn’t want you inside, with his cow, in dar land,” said Jordan, Josh’s youngest son, adding: “Ef de Lawd didn’t take better care of you and I have to…”

“I don’t want to go giving, anyway,” Josh replied.

“Mmmmm…” Jordan snapped.

“When we drink that ‘tere moonshine, blown clean on our min’

leave my stomach alone,” Josh said, adding “that cow was behind giving”, Josh pointed by the tree by the fence where the cow was the other day, and now it had returned; Jordan added, “Dune thought the Mr. Birmham was going to talk to Mr. Hightowr… about you, but he didn’t… lucky old man!

You could hear a dog howling by the front steps of the Birmingham, Mr. Abernathy; the owner on the other side of the one in Birmingham was talking to Mahogany on his steps, another young couple, white people, who bought the place, he took a liking to it, or so old Josh thought, he was there five days a night week talking to her while she drank the wine from the bath.

Josh stared at the two of them, unblinking, trying to get a better picture, but everything was a blur except the white skin that shimmered in the morning sun that pushed its way through the thin, milky-white sky.

Josh found a new place to sit and drink all afternoon, after Jordan left, it was somewhere parallel to the main road, at the back of the Birmingham property, on government land, next to some cool looking nightjars. old man, there he Found his cow waiting, and they drank again, like they were buddies, and maybe they were, old Nelly liked moonshine, and Josh wasn’t stingy with it, they both lay there steadfast, protected by bushes and trees. , and foliage of all kinds, his head was the only thing that showed like a mixed salt and pepper shaker. If someone had been looking out the window of the Hightower house from the living room side like Ella Hightower, she might have seen Josh’s head, and if she did, she didn’t say a word to the husband. her.

she tower high

Fraternizing with the Jug

She leaned back in her chair in the living room, all her instincts telling her to go easy enough, it was a warm, quiet afternoon, and her husband was collected, calm, just like Josh, in his kind of serious serenity. . , in which her days were fulfilled. She had a tasteless stimulant, the secret I guess, Josh drunk on a cow, so be it, whatever reason he had for drinking so be it, she wasn’t going to ridicule him to alarm her husband, who was just he would worry about something he had no control over anyway; she said not a word: so be it, and take the whiskey with you to the grave, was her thought, and the cow with you; she liked the afternoons she had with Charles, there weren’t many, so she came to appreciate the ones she did have. And a drunk black wasn’t going to mess it up.

She leaned back in her rocking chair with her many fabrics close on the floor, colorful, ready to sew and knit, she had some patterns on her lap and moved them around like a puzzle. Across the room, Charles sat smoking his corncob pipe, reading Hawthorn’s The Scarlet Letter, turning the pages to glance, quickly to avoid Ella’s blind eyes, so she wouldn’t scold him for cheat by reading the book in advance. The afternoon passed without much of a moment, as Josh’s shadowless head disappeared with the cow’s after an hour or so, and Mr. Hightower had now dozed off, book still open, finger in the forward section. of the book, he had plunged into its pages, until his mind succumbed and he sank warmly into a deathly sleep, like a bird folding its wings.

Note: first part written in El Parquetito, 8/2/2006; second part written on 08/03/2006, during lunch and coffee, in Lima, Peru.