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Old Josh in: Fraternizing with Nelly the Cow!  Episode: #19 Part I and II
[Advance] The pastor had a cow next to Hightower – Henry Jackson Birmingham and his wife Mahogany, bought the place in 1872, several months passed, and Mahogany met Old Josh, but did not tell her husband much about him. That’s not much to say, I would think. They bought the place from Thomas August Smiley, a white neighbor, a Negro from Birmingham, who had inherited some money and got the place for a good price. Mahogany has a crush on Silas’ younger brother Jordan, as well as Abernathy, the white neighbor on the opposite side of his farm in Hightower; In the town where Jordan works at Country Story (Ozark, Alabama), and most of the time is behind the store, when not helping his father on the Hightower plantation, like Silas, now at home on weekends to help his pa Ella Hightower, Mr. Charles T. Hightower’s wife is always in the background, but she’s there nonetheless. Charles, heavy with age, had heart problems in the past.
There was a cow in the parsonage, Henry Birmingham had bought her a few weeks before, that was watching old Josh as he panted, watching, I say, without interest, as Josh bent about mending, or trying to mend the barn door, To be exact, the hinges of the barn door, and he saw the cow out of the side of his eye, beyond the fence, the boundary line between the two properties, the cow was just staring, panting, as Josh watched, now leaning towards him the barn a bit, Silas next to the barn. While greasing a wheel for Hightower’s car, Josh becomes annoyed with his next-door neighbor. Jordan, his youngest son, was also in the garden, he worked at a store in the Ozarks during the week and slept in a cot behind the store, and if he could, he would come home to help Silas and Josh. Around the plantation, Mr. Hightower made a deal long ago with owner Josh.
Old Josh was fretting over the cow; As if the cow looked at him or looked down on him. The morning sun seemed to fall directly on the cow’s head, and it also seemed to have a smile on its face, or so it seemed that its head was pointed at him, Josh must have been far away, his eyes wide, the door hinge in his mind, behind the door. A jug of hidden moon, the door he was working on, but the cow was looking that way – his way and it was exciting, even though Josh couldn’t get a good view, the image of the cow was actually smiling, purposefully smiling.
Josh walked over to the fence, jug in hand, at the fence, looked long and hard at the cow, then at the barbed wire fence, and his jug, and the cow, and the fence, and the moonlight again. The cow’s name was Nellie; He heard Mahogany, the owner’s wife call it.
“What in the world did you go to?” cried Silas to his father.
“Sprin water–,” Josh said shuddering like it was none of his business, but he didn’t, he just looked at her, a long look that said what he was thinking.
A growth of weeds is a kind of shelter, and the disguised Josh, on the other side of the fence, the cow consumes most of the picture, if anyone, like Hightower, happens to see his way.
Now both Josh and the cow were starting with each other, face to face you can say: big eyes with small eyes, Josh picked up the old broken metal pot, he brought with him to cover the jug, and poured some moonshine into it, fed it to the cow, and The cow ate it, and back on the ground Josh sat watching, taking another swing himself. The cow’s face is now pale, and the eyes are wide.
Now jog between the cow and the man, and the cow lay down on all fours, thus, both sat boldly beside each other, and then Silas appeared.
“Pop, I don’t know if we’re going to get into trouble, Mr. Hayter won’t be drinking moonshine on his land, nor Mr. Barham…feeding his cows…!
“Whoah,” Josh said.
“His woc,” Josh said, “I think our relatives have a month right?” And the cow said “mo…ooooo!” And old Josh translates it into more moonshine and lets him lick it.
“I suppose you wouldn’t like a drink in a cup?” Ambiguous Josh.
Then Josh looked at his son, his son saying, “I know how to drink a jug dot I?” And Josh passed the jog.
Old Josh and the Birmingham Cow
 Episode # 19/ Part II of II
It’s been a few days since Josh’s drinking with the Birmingham Cows–
“Der don’t wid care, widder gow, on der land,” said Josh’s younger son Jordan, adding, “If de lad don’t take good care of ‘yo’ Dan…”
“I don’t want to go now,” Josh rejoined.
“Hmmmmm…,” Jordan said.
“When we drink ‘tere moonshine, clear in our minute”
“Leave me alone in the belly,” said Josh, adding, “dat tere cow uz back dar” Josh pointed to the tree by the fence where the cow had been the other day, and was now back; Jordan added, “I thought Mr. Barham was going to talk to Mr. Hightower…about you, but he didn’t…you lucky old man!
You can have a dog howl on the front steps here in Birmingham, Mr. Abernathy; The owner across from Birmingham was talking to Mahogany on his steps, another young couple, the white folks, who had bought the farm, took a glare at him, or at least Old Josh thought so, he was there five days out of the week talking to him when he had his Drinking bathtub wine.
Josh stared at the two, trying to get a better picture for his mind, but everything was a blur, except for the white skin glistening in the morning sunlight that found its way through the thin stretch of milky white sky.
After Jordan left Josh found a new place to sit and drink in the afternoon, it was a place parallel to the main road, behind the Birmingham property, on public land, by some old whipping-poor-will, there he was. His cow was found waiting, and they drank again, as if they were sidekicks, and perhaps they were, old Nellie loved the moonlight, and Josh wasn’t cheap about it–they both lay there, shielded by chandeliers and trees, and All kinds of leaves, his head just looks like a salt and pepper shaker mix. If anyone looked out the window of the Hightower room from the side of the living room as Ella Hightower, they could see Josh’s head, and if he did, he didn’t say a word to his husband.
Fraternity with the world
Ella sat back in her chair in the living room, all her instincts telling her to leave alone, it was a warm and quiet afternoon, and her husband was as secure, calm in his solemn calm as Josh. , in which his days completed themselves. She had a grudge urge, I think, Josh got drunk with a cow, so be it, for whatever reason she had to drink, she wasn’t going to make fun of him to warn her husband, who was just upset about something. will do There was no control either way; He didn’t say a word: so be it, and take the whiskey to the grave with you – was his thought, and the cow with you; She loved her afternoons with Charles, there weren’t many, so she appreciated the ones she got. And a drunken negro wasn’t going to spoil it.
Ella sat on her rocker near the floor with many of her fabrics, colorful, ready-to-sewn and crocheted, a few patterns in her lap and she moved them like a puzzle. Across the room sits Charles, smoking his corncob pipe, reading Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter, quickly turning pages to avoid Ella’s unseeing eyes, lest she reprimand him for deceiving her into reading the book. The afternoon passed dully without any great moment, for Josh’s shadowless head disappeared with the cow after an hour or so, and Mr. Hightower was now fast asleep, the book still open, his finger on the leading edge of the book. Immersing himself in its leaves, until his mind sinks and warms into deathly sleep, folding its wings like a bird.
Note: First part written in El Parquetito, 8/2/2006; Part II Written 8/3/2006, over lunch and coffee, Lima, Peru.
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