"Apple Wine"

I’ve been through so many apples. Mountains of them. I don’t use an apple coring machine. I do it by hand. My fingers are always yellow and orange from apple after apple. Days on end and I’m cutting apples. Sliced then diced and thrown into vats. From vats to barrels, from barrels to jugs. Apples and apples and apples.

I used to run the orchard to make just enough money to start over again the next year, but then the prohibition law passed and I figured out a better use for my apples. Instead of selling them beside the road and barely scraping by, I could take the apples--all of the apples and turn them into booze. Even the apples that fell to the ground and even the ones that started to mold. It didn’t matter. They all taste the same when poured over a numb tongue.

I can’t really spend the money, because then it will be obvious that I’m up to no good. It’s bad enough that I’m already employing enough negroes to start an army, no need to draw more attention to myself. I call it my little nest egg.

The part I’m not fond of is the actual moving of my ‘brand’. I have to cross state lines and it’s never a comfortable experience. Maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe I’m ashamed? Doesn’t matter. I suppose it’s more than just the ‘moving’ part, it’s the ‘selling it’ part too. I have to deal with the kind of men I’ve never wanted to be around in my life. Of course, when they see a woman coming, they think they’ll put one over on her and sometimes I can’t help but notice how they look at me.

“Who ordered the prostitute?”

I get over it and I keep moving. It’ll all be worth it, eventually. So long as I don’t get caught or shot or worse.

Yes, there are worse than just getting shot.

While I drive, I think about what I can do with the money, but I always know that I’ll never really see the ‘fruit’ of my hard work, to use a pun. I’m putting the money away, hiding it, and I’ll come back for it when it’s less obvious that I’m profiting from a constitutional ban.

Tonight, I’m on my way to a new buyer. A friend of a friend recommended my brand to him and now I’m on rails for this meeting with this unknown. I wasn’t keen on the idea from the start, but this friend of a friend said they would pay double; just because of how much their boss enjoyed the taste.

I try to push it out of my mind as I drive, but It’s so quiet sometimes. Even with the roar of the engine, it’s quiet. A threatening quiet that I can’t seem to get around. I was raised to do the right thing, but somewhere I took a different turn down a fork in the road--a turned fueled by having to watch my family live in squaller--barely scraping by. The lines of good and bad started to blur back then, to be honest.

I want to live better-I want better for my family.

I pull up to the gate to the place and take a good look. The forty five feels cold as I pull it out from under the seat and set it in my lap. Trust only goes so far these days. There’s a voice inside my head telling me to turn the truck around and get gone. This voice is a desperate and scared one that I ignore, but maybe…

A man in coveralls opens the gate and I see the flash of a Thompson slung over his shoulder in my headlights. He waves me in.

I put the truck into gear and I drive slowly through the gate and watch the man close the gate behind me in the rear view mirror. He locks the gate and I swallow hard. I hope this is standard procedure and not just something reserved for me.

Another set of men in the same coveralls with the same Thompsons wave me forward into a garage.

I can’t escape the fear.

I pull forward and stop in the garage and I see one of the men in the rearview mirror slashing at his throat--he’s telling me to shut down the truck, so I do.

I slide the forty five into my hip pocket, knowing it won’t do much against the Thompsons, but for some reason I know I’ll need it. I open the truck door and plant my feet into the ground.

I hear, “So you’re Apple Wine. I didn’t expect… a female…”

“Most don’t,” I reply blindly, “And you are?”

“Smitten, quite frankly.”

He steps out of the darkness and I have to say, he’s a sharp looking man. He’s got all of the flair of Douglas Fairbanks and the chin to match. He lights up two cigarettes in his mouth at once as he approaches me. He pulls one from his lips and offers it to me. I take the cigarette and immediately take a long drag off of it.

“My name is Francis and it’s a pleasure,” he nods.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Francis. I’m Elina.”

He walks past me after sizing me up and looks into the back of my truck--at what’s hidden behind the burlap. The largest load I’ve ever transported.

“All accounted for. I’m impressed. One woman does all of this?” he flashes an unforgettable smile at me as he turns, “I love the product. It’s incredible.”

I smile, “I aim to please.”

“That, you do,” he winks, taking a drag off of his cigarette, “I’ve got your payment, but I have to ask, why gold?”

I shrug, “It never loses value.”

“It doesn’t, does it,” he approaches me and closes the distance to a hand length, he exhales out of the corner of his mouth, “You sure are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

I feel my cheeks betray me as they blush.

“It seems wrong to me that someone as lovely as you would have to get her beautiful hands dirty,” his eyes are sky blue and pleasant, but somehow dark and menacing.

“Want something done right, as they say,” I smile, ashing my cigarette.

“Funny too,” he grins, “How about you come work for me. In fact, how about you teach my boys how to make this stuff and you live easy, on my dime?” he handles my lapel for a moment, “Get you out of these dirty clothes, into something that suits a beautiful dame such as yourself.”

“You knew I was a woman all along,” I say, rather bluntly.

He smirks, “Smart too,” he nods, “I’ve been watching you, Elena. You came from out of nowhere and all of a sudden, you’ve cornered the market. I had to know more and well,” he reaches out to caress my cheek, “I took a shine to you.”

My name is Elina.

I ask, “What if I say no?”

“No to what?”

“No to your offer, working for you, teaching your boys, living easy… What if I get in my truck and drive right out of here?”

“Well, I can’t lie to you, I would be a bit sad,” he nods towards one of his boys, “Just ask them, It’s terrible when I’m sad.”

“That’s right, boss gets sad, we all get sad,” one says, now holding his Thompson--showing it off.

“Not that kind of sad, Jimmy, put the shooter up,” Francis turns back to me, “You can drive right on out of here, but I want you to think about my offer. It’s a travesty that a dame like you has to work so hard. You should be able to relax and have the time of your life.”

I nod, “It’s a lovely offer. One I will consider once I see my payment.”

He nods over my shoulder, “It’s on the table over there.”

I turn and see a bag on the table he nodded towards. I flick my cigarette as I walk towards the case and undo the clasp and open it up. Seeing the gold bars makes my cheeks blush more.

It’s beautiful.

I turn glance at Francis who has unloaded a jug of my hooch out of the shipment and already has it open.

“Would you join me in a drink? Drink to our new partnership, say?”

I don’t like drinking my own brand.

“Sure,” I smile, “One wouldn’t hurt.”

He takes a long drink from the bottle and hands it over to me; I do the same.

“It sure is sweet. Has a punch too. Just like you, i’d presume,” he winks.

I laugh as I look at all of his boys now, with Thompsons drawn, “You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

He joins in the laughter as he takes another swallow, “No, I’m not. You and I have a future together and it would slip away if I let you drive away, darling.”

“Then, what’s the need for the theatrics? Why not just trap me and force me into...whatever it is you want?”

He wipes his mouth with his jacket sleeve, “Why? Well, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say yes, of course. It’s so much better when you say yes. So, how about we forget about these guns and this, whatever’s going on right now, and you just say yes?” he takes another swig and pulls my hat off and watches as my hair falls, “See? Now this is a woman. Beautiful. Just say yes, we’ll have a great time. With your booze and my organization, we’ll make more money than you ever dreamed of.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Let’s not talk about that.”

I’ve gotten out of tougher situations before.

“Well then, why don’t you give me a kiss? My booze tastes best on the lips,” I smile.

He returns my smile and gives me a wink before stepping towards me. There’s a millisecond long moment where I really consider kissing him. He’s my only chance at Douglas Fairbanks. He smells good, he looks good, and he’s got everything a girl could possibly want.

It’ll never happen. Before our lips meet, the muzzle of my forty five meets his stomach. He’s startled and I turn him around quickly and jam the muzzle of the gun beneath his jaw, right into the fleshy part.

“Oh my god, I’m in love!” He laughs.

“Tell them to put their weapons down,” I command.

“You heard her, boys. Lower those ‘weapons’.”

They do, cautiously--I’ll guess that none of these thugs thought I had it in me. It’s hard to ignore the fact that this is a huge mistake, but it’s too late to stop and say, ‘just kidding’.

“Now load my payment into the truck.”

Francis nods and the thug worried about whether or not his boss would get sad loads the bag into the truck. He turns around and instinctively puts his hands up.

“You know we’re not going to let you get away with this,” The thug says, angrily.

“This hotsy totsy is going to get away with this, for now. I like a dame with some spunk,” Francis chuckles, “She has a firm grip too, I like it.”

“Now, unload the truck,” I command.

“See boys, she just wants out of here, she doesn’t want to steal from us. Yet another respectable trait,” he says.

He tries to make a move, but I pull his arm up, increasing the pressure as I continue to jam the muzzle of the forty five into his jaw. It seems like ages pass as they unload the hooch from the truck.

“The only thing she needs to figure out now, is how she’s going to make her exit,” Francis laughs.

“I’m not leaving-we’re leaving. You’re going to order all of your boys to open the doors and stand aside and we’re going to make a little trip together. You never know, with some one on one time, we might make a connection and we’ll end up puttin’ up the ritz.”

“You heard her, boys. Open the doors, open the gates, and let me and my doll go for a little night ride.”

They do as they’re told and it feels like it takes an hour to get packed into the truck. I fire it up and somehow manage to shift gears, guide the vehicle, and keep the forty five on Francis as we put the place in our rearview mirror.

I shouldn’t have gone out on a limb like this. I shouldn’t have been greedy. I should have just taken my small share of the pie like I’ve always done in the past. Goddamnit.

“You’re an impressive woman, Elena. Very impressive.”

“My name is Elina,” I groan.

I know I’m dead, but I figure now, I’ve got nothing to lose.

“Elina. I like it. Apologies for the mispronunciation. Look, you’ve ruffled some feathers, but there’s nothing saying we can’t just turn around and make things right.”

“You’re looking for a slave, bub, and I’m not the slave kind.”

“Slave is such a strong word. You would like it, if you just gave it a chance.”

Oh Douglas Fairbanks, you do have an enticing scent.

I pull to a stop and we’re stuck in silence for a moment, I lower the gun and glance at him and our eyes meet.

“Maybe in some other time, under different circumstances, but right now, no,” I whisper.

“It’s a shame. A damn shame. We’re going to see each other again, I promise you that. It might be a happy reunion and it might not. Either way, you’ve made me sad tonight. So sad.”

He steps out of the truck and before I go, I ask him, “Can I have another cigarette?”

He lets out a laugh and pulls out his whole pack and tosses it into the truck.

“Have them all, I think I just quit,” he says.

Before another word can pass through his lips, I put the truck in gear and leave him behind. I’m shaking and I feel doomed. I keep driving. Driving as far as I can. I don’t look into my rear view mirror.

It’s my own eyes I don’t want to see.

Thirty minutes pass in what seems like an instant.

Now I’m in the middle of nowhere, digging a hole. The act of digging this hole feels like some cruel metaphor for the night I’ve just been through. Luckily, this particular hole isn’t meant for me; just needs to be big enough for the bag.

“This isn’t the only hole you’ve dug for yourself, tonight,” I admit to the earth beneath my feet, “I hope it’s worth it.”

With that said, I chuck the bag into the hole and start to cover it up with dirt. I push it all in and start pounding it down flat with the shovel. There’s a voice inside my head telling me to hurry, but know that once the hole is filled in, my work is done.

Everything that comes next is inevitable--unchangeable. This moment is the only one I can control.

The here and now.

End.




The first time I met Elina Cartel? That’s a good question. At first, I thought she was just another fare. I had no idea that I’d get to know her like I did and that we’d end up going as far as we did together. Don’t mix work and pleasure is the old cliche, but I did. I did, big time. I’m not saying that Elina and I screwed or anything, but I’m saying, I did care about her--that much is for certain. She was a really likeable woman, in her own way.

Did I love her? Maybe, but that doesn’t really matter now.

Anyway, I digress, you want to know about the first time I met Elina Cartel…

She was looking into buying this place called “The Space Disco” - it was this weird electronica joint, had a little shitty bar and a big dancefloor and they played everything from eighties synth to this shit they call neo-retro music. Electro, she called it. Whatever.

She called me up for a ride and when she showed up at the curb, I was pretty impressed. She was a cute little thing, had bright eyes, but also looked like the kind of chick who might just put you on your back if you assumed she was just this little pixie waiting for a fuck. Granted, I had some context on her because she was a fighter. She fought for a few different outfits back then, can’t remember what they were called.

She asked me to open the trunk and after she tossed some stuff into it and slammed it closed, she hopped into the car. She gave me latitude and longitude coordinates for where we were heading.

Can honestly say it was the first time a fare had ever given me coordinates.

She asked me if she could smoke in the car, I told her no, but she lit up anyway. When I looked back at her and tried to accost her for doing it, she just cocked her head to the side and gave me a look that told me I should shut my mouth so I dropped it. I asked her if she wanted to hear some music, but she just shook her head ‘no’ and continued smoking.

Small talk--I tried to make small talk. I asked her what her plans were and she didn’t seem very interested in responding to me. She didn’t start talking until I asked her what she did for work, yeah, I acted like I didn’t know who she was.

That’s when she opened up and her eyes got bright.

She told me that she was fighting for this outfit that required personalized venues. She said it was like “Street Fighter” and I assumed she was referring to the video game. That’s when she brought up this Space Disco place I mentioned earlier. She said she needed to buy it because she was facing a scientologist in a match there and they wouldn’t allow her to do it unless she paid the place off.

I didn’t take her seriously at all. Scientologist? Space disco? I asked her if she was joking, but she just gave me that look again--the one that told me I should shut up.

I remember asking how the hell a lil thing like her could come up with the money to buy a night club. She just rolled her eyes and told me she had it handled.

I have to say right now that she was quite eloquent. I could tell she was educated. She practically spoke in complete sentences. Her vocabulary made me wonder if she invented the word game ‘scrabble’ and the pitch of her voice, my god, her voice was sugary sweet.

Anyway, we cruised out into the night, far off the beaten path. I took my BMW off road, well, a dirt road, but still, it was a bit more than I bargained for.

She chain smoked as we went and for a while she gazed out the window at the stars and I would catch glimpses of her in the central rear view mirror. I admired the curves of her face and the way she wore her makeup, it was subtle, but it highlighted her best features. I even remember her earlobes. They were cute, I can’t explain it, but really, whatever.

I guess I should say, if girls knew what their ears looked like, they’d always wear their hair down.

We reached the coordinates she gave me and she told me to wait, but keep the car running. She told me to pop the trunk. She ordered me around like I was her manservant. I kind of liked it, I won’t lie. I like a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it.

Here’s the thing--she told me to idle the car, but she was gone for a solid thirty minutes. I got curious, so I killed the engine and got out. I wandered a bit until I saw the light of a lantern, so I approached it and found her digging a hole. She turned towards me and I caught a glimpse of her teeth as she grimaced at me. This lead to her telling me off for disobeying her orders.

Truth be told, she wasn’t getting very far with the shoveling in her little shoes, so I offered help and she reluctantly took me up on it. I took the shovel and started digging. Before too long, the tip of the spade hit something solid. When I told her I had found something, she pushed me out of the way and got on all fours and reached down into the hole.

I’m not going to lie, I took a couple steps back and could see her little panties showing from underneath her skirt.

Don’t judge me.

She towed a bag that looked like time had forgotten about it from the bottom of the hole and set it to her side. She stood up, already with another lit cigarette between her lips and told me to go back to the car. The bag looked heavy though, so I offered to carry it for her, but she wanted none of it.

I went back to the car and had a smoke of my own while I waited for her.

When she got back to the car, she tossed the shovel, lantern, and that big bag into the trunk. It landed with a clunk, so I asked her what she had in it and she just laughed and told me it was none of my concern.

I flicked my smoke and got back into the car and waited. Shortly she got in and reached over the seat and dropped a gold bar into my lap. The thing hurt--it was heavy. She told me that I wasn’t ‘that annoying’ and that I was going to be her driver--’until further notice’.

So yeah, that’s how I met Elina Cartel and ended up working for her.

I think too, that she used the gold to buy the Space Disco, to fight that Scientologist guy.

What else do you want to know?

To be continued...