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"Is your family involved in the circus business
now?" I asked him.
"My family?" He laughed again. "Hell, no. My
daddy's been somethin' of a farmer and a moonshiner
most of his life. Ma's a hardworkin' woman. She
raised six of us and it took its toll on her, I'm afraid," he said, his face turning soft and sad. "You know what they say: it ain't how far you've traveled, it's how
rough was the road."
"Six is a lot to raise. How many boys and how
many girls?"
> "All boys, which made it harder, I suppose. She
never had a daughter to help her with the housework." "Where are your brothers?"
"They're spread out all over the place. Two
went bad already. Before I left the Willies, we heard
Jeff and Landon were in county jails for shopliftin'." "I'm sorry," I said. I had never known anyone
whose brothers or close family members were
criminals. I couldn't help being afraid and wondering
if I hadn't made a mistake getting into the truck with
him.
"Yeah, Ma's takin' it hard," he said shaking his
head. "What's a moon . . . moon . ."
"Moonshiner? Boy, you sound like you live
behind some tall, thick walls. Moonshiners make
moonshine whiskey, bootleg whiskey. They got their
own homemade stills and they make this cheap
whiskey and sell it all over the place. Most of the
time, nobody bothers them, but once in a while,
federal agents pop up. Ma don't like Pa doin' it, so he don't do it as much. Lately, he's been doin' odd jobs, handyman jobs. He's a good carpenter. Speakin' of dolls and such, you should see the wooden figures he carves when he's a mind to. Why, he can sit on our porch for hours and hours and work on a dumb piece of wood, turnin' it into a rabbit or squirrel that looks
so real, you'd expect it to jump out a your hand." I laughed. He had such a colorful way of
speaking, yet he sounded real, down to earth, honest. I
couldn't help liking him and, in a way, envying him
