Appalachia

There are people living on the edge of what is called Appalachia. They’re called Ridgerunners, rednecks, hillbillies and mountaineers. No one thinks of them very often. They don’t earn much and usually don’t live well according to society’s standards. They stay where they are because they love the area. They are hard workers when they have work, and self-sufficient to an extent not known to “outsiders.” They are also very funny; they have a great sense of humor about themselves. They are the salt of the earth and the backbone of America. Their stories are America’s stories. They are the Stories Of Appalachia.

The sheriff pulled behind his mother’s car. He never could figure out how she could get to any crime scene before he did. He got out and glanced around. Deputy Joe Bob had sounded frantic on the phone. He always did. He decided to ask his mother what was going on. Joe Bob was geting some blankets ready.”

“What are the blankets for?”

“Joe Bob, all you you will be a big spatter in the road.Have you tried talking to him?”

“Yeah, but he ain’t listenin.”

Mother Mary told him that Mosh was threatening to jump. She also said it would be the most exciting thing to happen here in years. The Sheriff didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t deny it and there seemed to be no reasonable answer.

Deputy Joe Bob came over and told him what was going on. “He just went and climbed up there. He said he was going to jump. A couple of us thought we’d catch him when came down-”

“Joe, That would leave a big, bloody mess here. Did you climb up and find out what the problem is?”

“No. I’d never be able to climb up there.”

“Well, Mosh Henry managed to do it.”

“Well, yeah. He’s drunk.”

The Sheriff didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t want to say anything to that. He would have to climb up and see what Moss was doing. “Mosh, what are you doing up here?”

“I going to jump. I’am gettin’ old and I’m done.”

“Mosh, if you jump, you’ll make a mess that I have to clean up. That’s a lot of bother for me.”

Mosh thought that one through. The sheriff never bothered him too much about his moonshine and he didn’t want to put the Sheriff out. “Okay. I’ll not jump. I’ll wait for the Cannonball Express to run me over. Then you’d just have to wash me off. The fire department could use the practice”

“Huh? Sure it has. It -”

“Mosh, look down,”

“Someone stole the tracks!”

When Joe Bob got the job as a deputy at the sheriff’s office, he was finally making a decent dollar. No more scrounging around doing odd jobs to make a little extra cash. Jobs like cleaning out cesspools and skinning cows. Now, along with the added respect, he’d be able to live better. The county was so poor that being a deputy sheriff was a high-paying job, in contrast to most. It was highly prized and made Joe Bob’s selection even more puzzling. After all, the Sheriff had other nephews.

Joe Bob was a large man. He wasn’t all that fat-looking, but he was a large man. Clarence Williams once said, “Joe Bob is a six-foot-two man in a five-eight body, and he sure ain’t goon’ to grow any taller.”

Maybe now he could move the trailer to a paved road. If not, at least one had some gravel. Trying to drive through the mud was hard enough for him with his four-wheel drive. For the little woman, in her 77 Chevy, it was the nearest thing to impossible. Many a time, Joe Bob had to hook the chain to her car and pull her out of the mud. The Chevy, not the little woman. When it was dry, the ruts would almost shake her apart. The little woman, not the Chevy.

Speaking of the trailer, maybe a new one. If not new, at least newer. Maybe one of those double-wide he’d heard so much about. Put it on blocks, plant some flowers here and there, and maybe it’d look like something. Well, in the trailer he had looked like something—just not like something he liked looking like something.

He thought back to the words the Sheriff told him. “Now, son, y’all listen up real close here. I run a clean office. You go on out there and keep things peaceful. Make sure no one drives too fast or gets into too many fights, and things will be fine. Don’t be takin’ no bribes or nothin’ and could be when the day comes that I retire, my son keep you on.” It sounded great unless you realized the Sheriff didn’t have a son. Joe Bob never quite got it.

The Sheriff gave Joe Bob the keys to his patrol car and told him to go keep an eye on things. He also told him not to get carried away with his job. Joe Bob was so proud. He was a deputy Sheriff! He was driving along out by the lake when he spotted Mosh Henry. Mosh was a moonshiner. Everyone knew it. No one cared. Joe Bob decided to pull Mosh over. That wasn’t smart but it gave him a chance to use his siren and his authority. He wanted to make an impression and impress someone on the first day. That made his choice to pull Mosh Henry over all the more wrong.

“Why, if it ain’t Joe Bob. I heard you would be a new deputy. How are you, Joe Bob?, Mosh said to Joe Bob. Mosh had known Joe Bob his entire life. He’d sold booze to his father. That might explain Joe Bob.

“Jus’ fine, there, Mosh. Now, Mosh, everybody is know’n you run shine. I looked up under your car, and you had two tanks there. I reckon one is for gas and the other is for shine. I have to run you in.” Catching a shiner on day one was great, Joe Bob thought.

“No, Joe Bob, no you don’t. Runnin’ me in just be a waste of yer time. Ya got no business stoppin’ me in the first place, and you sure ain’t got no business a lookin’ at my tanks. Reckon they’re not no law agin havin’ two gas tanks. Ya got no reason to be checking their tanks. They call it an ‘unreasonable search’ or something like that. My lawyer fella knows that stuff.”

“Well, I’m going to let the Sheriff sort that out.” Joe Bob said. He didn’t care about what happened to Mosh after the arrest. He only cared about making the arrest.

“I reckon the Sheriff be pissed off like wildfire if you get my lawyer on him. My lawyer is Squire Davis and he is a good one, as ya darn well know. You will be driving the back roads for the rest of your life. That be the truth, Joe Bob. Now, I will be a reasonable man. I gonna go on about my business and you gonna mind your own. You hear me, boy?” Mosh thought that should set things straight with Joe Bob.

Joe Bob heard the truth. He didn’t like it much, but he knew it. Mosh had been running Shine for years. The Sheriff, like everyone else in these parts, knew it. If the Sheriff didn’t do anything about it, then maybe Joe Bob shouldn’t. Moss’s lawyer, Squire Davis, was a tough, smart old bird. He could cause Joe Bob some problems. Joe Bob’s life was full of problems, and he didn’t need to add one more.

“OK, Mosh. Have yourself a nice day.” Have a nice day. What a way to start his new career! Outwitted by a halfwit like Mosh Henry. Back in the old days, Mosh would be sweating bullets along about now. Joe Bob would have him scared to death. Not that Joe Bob knew much about the old days. Joe Bob was 23 years old.

Joe Bob stopped in at Mother Mary’s Café for breakfast. He was hungry and wanted to show off his badge to the folks there. He knew all the regulars who ate there. Most of them thought he was a horse’s ass. Well, he was a deputy sheriff now. Joe Bob guessed he’d get some respect now from those people. He guessed wrong.

“Well, lookie here. If it ain’t Joe Bob. That’s a nice car you are driving. That’s a shiny new badge you be wearin’. Going to a costume party, are you, Joe Bob?” Mother Mary herself called out to him. She knew he was a real deputy since her son was the Sheriff.

The rest of the crowd hooted and hollered. Joe Bob began to feel like coming here was a mistake—a bigger mistake than pulling Mosh Henry over. After all, there was only one of Mosh Henry, and there was a whole crowd here. With Mosh, there wasn’t a witness, although Mosh would tell the story and make it worse and worse with each telling.

“I just came in for eats. This is still an eatery, ain’t it?”

“Why, sure it is, Joe Bob. Just having a little laugh with you. You don’t have to be uppity about it. Sit yourself down here and have some grits. Then you can go on back out there and protect us some more.” The others laughed some more.

That sounded OK, but Joe Bob knew they were still laughing at him. Well, he couldn’t do too much about it. For one thing, Mother Mary was the Sheriff’s ma. That’s all Joe Bob needed to do-arrest the Sheriff’s ma. He’d like to, though, the heartless old crone. She couldn’t cook very well, either. The grits were awful. How can she not cook grits, right? Come to think of it, Joe Bob didn’t recall ever seeing the Sheriff eating in here. Maybe he shouldn’t either.

Joe Bob drove back out to the lake. He saw the Sheriff’s car behind him, so he pulled over. The Sheriff got out and walked up to Joe Bob’s. He wasn’t happy and intended to let his newest deputy know it. How could his brother have such a stupid son, although his brother was as stupid as a rail post?

The sheriff decided there was no hope for Joe Bob.