Chapter 10 A Goat Circus, A House and Ocean Soap
“Joseph, you keep comin’ up with answers like that, you ain’t never gonna make much money as a handyman,” Thomas McGathery said, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
Joseph rubbed the back of his neck, eyes drifting toward the half-finished drawing. “There’s still work for me in it. Might not be rich work, but it’s honest.”
“You got the right idea,” Thomas went on, nodding toward the structure. “The house and the store need joinin’. If me and Katie take the back storeroom, I’d be near ’bout where I am now. Close enough to hear if somethin’ breaks and tend it quick.”
“But, it’d get you both back in the same bedroom.”
Thomas scratched his chin. “But buildin’ a new foundation and settin’ our house on it… that’s a bigger leap. How’d you come up with that?”
“Junior,” Joseph said, a little more certain now. “I seen him use logs to move his pa’s outhouse. He had a mechanical system in the air and lifted it right off where it sat. Figured with enough hands, the whole community could join the two pieces. Be just what you need, and quicker than folks might think.”
Thomas gave a low whistle. “That boy’s got more sense than folks give him credit for.”
“Joseph, I been turnin’ an idea over in my head. “Two ideas, truth be told, but one for certain.”
“I’m’a listen.”
“The Goatman, and Junior, and the whole town.”
Thomas leaned in a mite, interest sharpening his gaze.
“Saturday, we charge a nickel a show and let Junior perform with them goats. That’ll bring folks into town. While they’re here, we let ’em know we could use help movin’ the little house to the back of the store. Then we can add a second floor. .”
Joseph frowned. “Folks might think we’re askin’ ’em to pay for the privilege of workin’.”
“But I ain’t takin’ their money. Junior is,” Thomas said, tapping a finger against his palm. “Folks love that boy, and ever’ soul here owes him for helpin’ with their critters. They’ll come for him, maybe for us. But, for sure for him.”
Joseph nodded slow. “Makes sense. I’d pay the nickel myself, truth be told.”
“I got a job for you,” Thomas said, straightening. “And I know how to sell it.”
“You could sell ice in winter.”
“I do,” Thomas shot back without missing a beat. “That’s where summer ice comes from.”
Joseph grinned despite himself, the tension easing from his shoulders.
“Goatman’s got all them spices and smell-pretties.” Thomas continued. “Folks don’t buy soap becasue it smells pretty. They buy it ’cause they seen what it done. If Goatman can wash one of them rank ol’ billies till folks’ll stand beside him without holdin’ their breath, he’ll sell every cake he brung and wish he’d made twice the batch!”
Joseph’s grin widened. “Your daughter’s a talker. Think I could borrow her gift of gab? She knows how to say harsh things just right—makes ’em sound like kindness.”
Thomas eyed Joseph and weighed his trust, his expression tightening just a touch.
“One thing,” he said at last. “Not a sip of that applejack you got fermentin’ in the ice house. If it comes out, you point her toward home before she so much as sees it.”
“I hadn’t planned on that angle,” Joseph admitted, holding up a hand, “but it does have an easy appeal. Sure. I’d never drink in front of a woman anyhow.”
“You ain’t like your brothers.”
“Say that to Ma, please?”
Thomas huffed, a short, amused breath.
Katie walked in. She unfolded the drawing across the worn pine counter of McGathery’s Mercantile. The smell of coffee, leather harness, lamp oil, flour and peppermint candies seemed to follow her around. Katie always seemed to keep one ear on every conversation around the courthouse square while her husband did business.
She nodded approvingly at Joseph’s drawing. “I got an idee. Let’s get one of those Atlanta photographers. We let him keep every penny hemakes sellin’ pictures. All I want is one copy of the whole town movin’ this house. If Atlanta wants to print it, they can do whatever newspapers do. If they don’t we’ll hang it in the new courthouse so folks’ll remember who built this town.”
“Everyone that touches that house is a part of history.” Thomas smiled.
Joseph added, “that’s the spirit! They’ll be fightin’ for a spot up front in the picture. You start word with the womenfolk. Let ’em know first off the work’s volunteer. I’ll start the new foundation. Later, we’ll print flyers for the goats and Junior. Folks’ll know Goatman’s here that way, and they’ll bring extra coin for buyin’. Might even draw in folks from the next county over.”
“This could work for ever’body,” Katie said, more firmly now.
Thomas nodded once. “Now, the second thing…”
Joseph stilled, the shift in tone not lost on him.
“This ain’t none of my business,” Thomas said, lowering his voice, “but Chance Dockery’s gonna be lookin’ for a deputy soon. I was speakin’ to the Martins a few days back. There’s gonna be a room added onto the jailhouse. A job like that’ll get snatched up quick, and I’d like to see it go to the likes of you.”
Joseph laughed, though it came out thinner than before. “Me and my applejack?”
“That rock-gut stuff?” Thomas snorted. “Ever’ woman that cooks in Winze County’s been usin’ it to cut grease. You might be sittin’ on somethin’ better than you think.”
Joseph looked off a moment, considering. “My first thought’s no, thank you. But give me time for a second thought.”
“You think hard, Joseph,” Thomas said. “It’d get you out from under your mama’s roof and bring a new respect from them brothers and uncles of yours. Might even change how you see yourself.”
Joseph’s jaw tightened, something flickering behind his eyes.