*Author's Note*
Thank you for the reviews, faves, and follows.
The time had finally come for the fall election day where everything goes to hell. The election day chapters are going to be split up. This one's more mellow compared to the next one considering what happens to Ellison in the next part…I did do a little spin on one scene from the show (in Novella's POV of course).
Election Day, 1882 Pt.1
Novella POV:
I woke up right 'fore dawn an' was shocked t'see that my husband's side of the bed was cold an' empty. I knew he'd be up early this mornin' in order to pack up his whiskey cart for the Election Day Festival, but I wasn't expectin' him to be up 'fore me. Tolbert wasn't an early riser, or at least he never rose 'fore dawn, so I was taken aback. Sighin' to myself I got outta bed an' went to my dress trunk to pick out somethin' to wear. Since today was a special occasion I decided to wear one of my nicer dresses I used for church, a taupe an' rust plaid two-piece styled dress that had a cream sontag shawl that went wit' it. Quickly I dressed an' then left my bedroom only to go to Rihanna's room to wake her an' ready her for the day.
Wakin' my daughter was the easy part, helpin' her pick out one of her nicer dresses to wear proved not to be so easy. Just 'bout everythin' I showed her she shook her head at or snapped out no to. An array of dresses in a slew of colors lay tossed in the dress trunk, a result of my daughter rejectin' them. There were only two dresses left to pick from. Holdin' out a blue dress an' a pink dress to her I sighed, "Ya gotta pick somethin' honey."
Rihanna bit her lip, ponderin' over her choices, 'fore poppin' out her answer of, "Pink."
"Okay. Do you want you're the bow that matches the dress for your hair?" I asked, as I went over to my daughter, who was sittin' on her bed, wit' the pink dress in hand so I could help her change.
"Yea." Rihanna nodded 'fore askin' wit' a small sheepish look, "Can my hair be like yours?"
Of course, she wanted her hair half-pulled back like I wore mine when it wasn't straight down. Wit' a large an' proud smile I told Rihanna, "Of course ya can wear it like mine." Helpin' her get her nightgown off an' her slip on I assured her, "Once your dressed I'll tie it back."
"Okay, mama." She simply answered 'fore lettin' me pull her dress over her head.
After helpin' her wit' stockin's an' boots I let her sit on the bed while I sat behind her, brushin' her hair an' fixin' it up wit' the large satin pink bow. Once I finished her hair I grabbed the hand mirror from the dresser an' gave it to her so that she could inspect her hair.
"I like it, mama." She smiled, handin' the mirror back to me.
"Good, now let's go get somethin' to et." I smiled, walkin' over to the door an' openin' it to reveal the main room of the house. Quickly Rihanna walked out of the room an' into the kitchen, I followed right behind.
I didn't have to worry 'bout dirtyin' up myself makin' breakfast since I was just goin' to serve some leftover biscuits wit' some apple slices for a quick mornin' meal. It didn't pay to eat a whole lot since there'd be tons of food at the Election Day Festival, where I'd be all day long.
Rihanna sat patiently at the table as I sliced an apple for her. We had a lot of apples in the house since I picked a bunch off the yard tree yesterday to use in the apple butter I made to enter into a contest today. Hopefully the judges like it.
"Poppy not here." Rihanna told me as I placed a plate wit' a buttered biscuit an' apple slices in front of her.
"He's busy gettin' his whiskey ready to sell in his cart today at the festival."
"Oh, okay." Rihanna simply nodded, acceptin' my explanation, as she grabbed an apple slice off her plate.
"We'll be at the festival all day. Your poppy usually likes to stay til it closes, sellin' his 'shine." I told Rihanna, more or less warnin' her that we'd be 'way from home surrounded by people all day, as I poured her a glass of milk an' placed it next to her plate.
Rihanna just nodded her head while silently munchin' on her apple. I patted her on the shoulder 'fore goin' to the counter an' getting' myself some biscuits an' apples. Instead of takin' the time to brew coffee I decided to just pour myself a glass of milk to drink. There'd be coffee, tea, lemonade, various alcohols, an' of course milk at the festival. If I needed a coffee fix I could always just buy a cup later.
A few short moments after I joined my daughter at the kitchen table the front door to the cabin opened wit' a bang. I turned my head only to see my husband enter our house. He didn't take his hat or coat off, so I assumed Tolbert had more work to do loadin' his barrels an' just came inside to grab a bite to et.
"Ya'll 'bout ready?" Tolbert asked, his velvety gruff timbre a bit clippish, as he made his way into the kitchen.
"Yes, we're just ettin' a quick bite." I told my husband, crunchin' on an apple slice.
"Good, cause I wanna get goin'." Tolbert remarked, snatchin' a biscuit from the pan of leftovers on the counter.
"Ain't ya gonna change first?" I asked, lookin' my husband over, as I grabbed my glass of milk.
Leanin' on the counter my husband shook his head 'fore takin' a bite of his biscuit an' askin', "No, why'd I need'a do that for?"
Really, he can't intend to wear his grungy clothes to an event where everybody from both sides of the Tug'll be it. It's just not done, everybody wears their nicer clothes either church ones or ones that are presentable. "Tolbert, ya really can't go to the Election Day Festival in an old shirt an' patched work pants." Those old patched an' hole-riddled clothes'll make my husband a laughin' stock. He has to know this. "Ya should wear somethin' nicer." I suggested, takin' a sip of my milk.
"I'm a shiner sellin' my product all day, don't matter what I wear." Tolbert told me 'round a mouthful of biscuit. "If yer ready grab that apple butter so we can get goin'." Tolbert ordered, tossin' his half et biscut onto the counter. Great, guess I ain't finishin' breakfast an' neither is Rihanna. In a long velvet-gruff tone Tolbert ranted, "I wanna be there first t'get a good sellin' spot. Heard talk that Johnse's got his head outta his ass an' is gonna be sellin' his horse piss t'day. Don't want him takin' up the prime spot, gettin' all the customers."
I just nodded at my ill-tempered ginger haired husband 'fore turnin' to Rihanna an' tellin' her, "We gotta go to the festival. Breakfast's over."
Rihanna bit her lip an' just nodded her head. I could tell my copper-haired daughter wasn't too thrilled 'bout havin' to abandon her meal by the slight scrunchin' of her nose. Silently I stood up from the table an' grabbed the jar of apple butter. Rihanna got up too, standin' next to me an' eyin' her poppy. "We're ready to go." I told Tolbert, who was leanin' gainst the counter sippin' out of a flask real quick as he waited for me to get read or whatever.
"Good, let's go." Tolbert remarked, stalkin' out the kitchen an' leavin' me an' Rihanna to quickly follow behind him.
The Election Day Festival this year was bein' held in Blackberry Creek, the area that I lived near, so the ride to the festival site, which was just a large stretch of cleared out land nestled in woods where a main road intersected thru, was short. We were one of the first people t'arrive. Some other sellers came early like us too in order to set up their stalls. Of course, Pharmer an' Bud arrived to the festival site shortly after we got there. They were helpin' their brother set up the whiskey cart. Me an' Rihanna just walked 'round, makin' sure to stay outta my husband an' his brothers' way, an' watched other vendors set up for the day. As we walked 'round we saw the votin' tent get put up 'long wit' the small dancin' tent.
Vendor after vender rolled onto the site an' found their spot to set up their displays. One of the last sellers to arrive was Johnse. Since Tolbert was the first one here he got the best spot, causin' Johnse to get a spot that was yards 'way on the other side of the lot. The spot was still visible from where my husband's wagon was at, but it was a stretch of a walk to make. Johnse's cart was closer to the dance tent, votin' tent, an' a woman sellin' some various pickled foods. I also noticed that Robert E. was wit' Johnse settin' up their whiskey wagon, but Cap wasn't there meanin' he wasn't helpin' his brother this year.
Eh, bet he's gonna be bringin' or meetin' his girlfriend Ninny here.
I ended up takin' Rihanna back to Tolbert's shine cart, decidin' that we'd stay there wit' him, Pharmer, an' Bud 'til more people arrived an' the festival took way. Tolbert sat perched on wagon seat, glarin' at everyone while drinkin' from his flask. Pharmer was standin' 'gainst the long plank of the wagon side while Bud was at the end where a large barrel wit' a spicket was ready to go for fillin' up cups. I was standin' 'tween Pharmer an' Tolbert wit' Rihanna sittin' on one of the smaller barrels in the wagon.
Soon 'nough the non-vendors began to pull up. I noticed that as the Hatfields pulled up that Cap was with them, alone, on his horse ridin' in next to Jim Vance an' Skunk Hair. Vera was nowhere to be seen, meanin' she must've had her baby. I didn't see her yesterday, due to bein' at home makin' apple butter all day, so I planned on askin' Skunk Hair 'bout her. I also noticed my uncle pull up wit' my brother an' all of my McCoy kin scatterin' in. They all went their own way.
I did spot Nancy smackin' her brother, who was drunkenly dancin' in the front of their wagon to the music bein' played by the band, an' snaggin' his bottle of booze from his hand. What shocked me was when she walked 'way from her wagon an' brother Johnse Hatfield ran after her, leavin' Skunk Hair an' Robert E. at his cart. Sighin' to myself, knowin' that my husband wouldn't notice much since he was half in a bottle an' glarin', spittin' too, at Devil Anse an' Levicy, who were at the dance tent, I pulled Rihanna down from the wagon, took her hand in mine, an' led her over to where Skunk Hair an' Robert E. were at.
"I don't see Vera wit'cha. Did the baby come?" I asked Skunk Hair, comin' right up to him.
Skunk Hair was standin' next to Robert E., his elbow restin' on the side of the wagon. "Baby come day 'fore last. A girl." Skunk Hair told me, a grin splittin' his usually long an' slackened face.
"Congratulations." I genuinely smiled, happy to hear the news of baby Brigid. "I wasn't able to visit yesterday, was makin' apple butter for the jam contest, but I'll be sure to see her soon." I explained to Skunk Hair, knowin' that he'd pass the message along to my friend.
"She'd like that."
Tiltin' my head slightly to my left I asked, "Why's Johnse walkin' an' talkin' wit' Nancy for?"
"Dunno, he just told his lil brother t'watch the cart for him." Skunk Hair remarked, takin' a quick sip of his fresh an' newly bought bottle of shine.
"Keep an eye on that, she can't be trusted." I told him, earnin' me a pointed. His eyes said what his voice didn't, 'Ain't she your kin?'. In a low near whisper I revealed, "Nancy knows 'bout what went on wit' me an' Cap. She's in cahoots wit' my Uncle Perry, who's as nice as a striped-ass snake."
"Ah." Skunk Hair nodded his head, showin' his understandin' of what I was sayin'. "I'll let 'im know not to get too chatty wit' her." He assured me, his drawled out voice laced wit' truth.
"Thank you, Skunk Hair."
"Cap's off wit' Jim Vance somewhere. If ya run into him don't be 'fended if he cold shoulders ya, he just tryin' t'protect ya from them no good McCoys." Skunk Hair told me, his bottle danglin' in his hand by his side. I reckon Cap an' Ninny are over since he's buddin' it up wit' Jim Vance. I know why he was tellin' me this, he didn't want me to feel slighted an' hurt by Cap's coldness.
"I know." I tightly told the man, who I once couldn't stand, but now tolerate, as my flowin' voice was flat an' void of any emotion. I knew that he knew more 'bout my situation then he let on, Vera did say that her an' Skunk Hair were a couple that talked 'bout everything.
My situation wit' Cap an' Tolbert was a tricky one, I had'a walk a tight line or I'd lose the one thing I cherished the most.
After talkin' to Skunk Hair I went back to Tolbert's wagon. My husband was still drinkin' his bottle. Dear lord, it was too early in the mornin' for this. "I'm gonna drop the apple butter off at the judgin' tent. If Moses comes by give him the gun so he can use it in the shootin' competition." I told Tolbert as I leaned over into the back of the wagon, the part that was right below his seat, and grabbed the apple butter.
"Shootin' ain't til later, but I'll let 'im borrow my gun." Tolbert grumbled, bringin' his likker bottle up to his lips.
"Does he even know how t'shoot?" Pharmer asked me 'tween scannin' the area for any potential customers.
"He must since he entered a contest." I shrugged, downplayin' that I in fact taught my brother how to shoot. I knew that Tolbert wouldn't like that since I was supposed t'be his perfect an' docile housewife.
"Goodluck in the jam contest, Novella." Bud told me, his eyes fallin' on the jar in my hand.
Smilin' at my shy brother-in-law I told him, "Thank ya Bud, wit' all the entries this year I'm gonna need it."
Tolbert rolled his smoky-blue eyes and scoffed in his smoothly-gruff timbre, "Don't even know why ya bother tryin' wit' that contest. Ev'one knows Mrs. Hatfield wins for her elderberry jam ev'ry time."
I wanted t'scream an' yell at my husband 'fore his backhanded pessimistic comment, but instead I just bit my tongue. I couldn't start a scene wit' Tolbert, not here at the festival. I just nodded my head an' walked off towards the jam judgin' tent.
Halfway to my destination Rihanna squeezed my hand an' told me in a sweet, but flat little voice, "Poppy's mean. I like your apple butter."
Lookin' down at my little copper-haired girl I told her in a soft motherly tone, "I know, sweetheart, but poppy don't mean no harm by it. He just means that he don't think I should enter the apple butter cause the same person always wins wit' her jam."
Rihanna shook her head, copper tangles lightly bouncin' on her small shoulders. "No, poppy's just mean."
"Sweetheart, don't think like that. Poppy's just moody. He's got a busy day workin' his shine business t'day, so after we drop off this jam we'll go do stuff like play games an' look at crafts."
"Okay, but poppy's still mean."
I wasn't gonna change my daughter's mind 'bout her father. She was dead set, at 3-years old, that her poppy was mean. Nothin' I said t'sweeten up the situation was gonna work. I just sighed an' decided to just go drop the subject an' get my apple buttered entered in the contest tent I could see in the near distance.
People were bustlin' bout the festival grounds as time went on. After playin' a game an' winnin' a toy wooden duck, buyin' some ribbons, an' ettin' some candied apples it was time to head on to the jam contest. On my way there I ran into Selkirk an' his family. Wit' a smile he greeted me cheerfully with, "Hello, Novella. Hope you're doin' well."
I smiled and then went on to tell him, "Hi, Selkirk. Good t'see ya, an' yes we're doin' well."
"I'll let ya go where your headed, got kids that want treats an' t'play games, but come find us near the tables later." Selkirk told me, tiltin' his head towards his tiny brood that were tuggin' on their mother's skirts while pesterin' her 'bout candy.
"Okay." I told my cousin, who I hadn't seen in ages, since I was gettin' ready to go on my way.
"She can come wit' us an' play wit' the kids. We'll even get her some candy." Selkirk's wife, I forgot her name, but I knew she a Hatfield (niece of Devil Anse if I remembered correctly), offered wit' a genuine an' friendly smile 'fore I could actually be on my way.
I looked down at Rihanna an' smiled 'fore askin' her, "Do ya wanna go wit' Cousin Selkirk an' his wife an' kids? Play an' get some treats while I go to the jam contest?"
Rihanna looked 'tween me an' Selkirk's family, a contemplative expression on her face. "Okay. They look nice."
"We'll take good care o'her. Just come find us when the contest's over." Selkirk told me as Rihanna walked over to join his children by his wife.
"Okay. I gotta get goin', but thanks." I told Selkirk, who sadly I haven't seen in years, an' his Hatfield wife, who seemed nice 'nough, 'fore rushin' off to make it to the judgin' tent in time for the jam contest.
When I reached the tent the three judges were sittin' at the long table, the table wit' all the entries on the opposite side of the tent, while all of the contests and people that were just there to watch where crowded inside on the tent. I quickly, but politely, weaved my way through the crowd to reach the front. I ended up standin' right next to Levicy, who I knew entered her yearly blue-ribbon prize winnin' elderberry jam.
"What'd ya enter, sweetheart?" Levicy asked me, lookin' at me wit' a thinly lined barely there smile on her face.
"Apple butter." I simply answered, turnin' my head to look at her.
Levicy nodded her head approvingly at me. "I entered my elderberry jam." She told me even tho she didn't have to. Everyone knew that she entered and always won wit' that elderberry jam.
The head judge, a portly man sittin' in the middle of the table wit' the other judges flankin' his sides, held his hand up while announcin', "If all the contestants are here we'll announce winners."
Another judge, a middle-aged woman wit' dark hair tightly pulled back, who I recognized as the owner of the dinner in Pikeville, announced, "Will Betty Mase, Levicy Hatfield, and Novella McCoy please step forward and stand infront of the judges' table."
Oh my god, my name was called. I'm a contender, wow.
"Now, we enjoy all of ya'lls entries. Betty, your raspberry jam was very delightful. Levicy, your elderberry jam was the sweetest. Novella, your apple butter was delicious. Sadly, there can only be one winner."
The head judge said as he stood up from the table, roundin' in the font of it, in order to hand out the prized blue ribbon. While standin' in front of us wit' the covitted prize ribbon in his hand the portly man announced, "The blue ribbon winner of this year's jam contest is Novella McCoy for the apple butter."
Oh my god! I won, I actually won the blue ribbon. I was in a bit of a shock, causin' Levicy to nidge me towards the judge to get my blue ribbon. Not sayin' a word the head judge handed me my ribbon, a slight smile on his face.
Dear lordy, still can't believe I won. By the silence of the crowd I don't think they actually believe that somebody, other than Levicy, won either. Wow, I can't wait to show my daughter the prize ribbon. Rihanna'll be so excited to see the blue ribbon, 'specially since she loves my blue ribbon apple butter.
The judges went on to announce that second place was Levicy's elderberry jam and third place was Betty's raspberry jam. Levicy gracious took her second place ribbon, but Betty had a bit of a snarky attitude as she received her ribbon. Reckon she didn't think she should've been in third. She should be grateful she got that, lots of people didn't even place at all for their jams.
Moses POV:
I shook my head as I watched Billy run off after Mariah Wolford, who by the way hated him, after cuttin' off our conversation as she walked by wit' none other than Robert E. Hatfield. It was obvious, or at least to me it was, that Mariah had a crush on Robert E. and didn't like Billy. Too bad my best friend can't get that in his head. Eh, wit' how much he runs after her now I reckon by time we're of courtin' age he's gonna be on her like white on rice.
I just shrugged my shoulders 'fore makin' my way over to my brother-in-law's shine cart so I could grab his gun. Novella assured me it'd be there for me to use. As I walked by an area wit' tables near some food stands I noticed that my sister an' niece were sittin' wit' a family. A family I didn't recognize. I knew that my sister didn't have much friends other then kin, hell honestly neither did I, so I was curious 'bout them. Wonder if the family knew Cap, since I had a hunch that my sister might know people he did since they had an affair goin' on an' all. I decided to go over to the table once I retrieved the gun t'introduce myself to the family and to ask Novella if she wanted to watch me in the shootin' contest.
I passed Johnse Hatfield's likker cart, but he weren't there an' neither was his brother Robert E since he was wit' Mariah. His uncle Ellison Hatfield an' slow-minded cousin Cottontop 'Ellison' Mounts was mannin' the cart instead. A bunch of people were lined up t'buy the Hatfield booze too. Can't say I blame them for pickin' the cheaper whiskey. Tolbert has his price hiked up so high anymore it's crazy. Last that's what I hear the handful of older boys at school say. Hell, that even what I overhear grown men bitch 'bout as I walk up an' down downtown Pikeville too.
When I took in the site of my brother-in-law's whiskey wagon I noticed that nobody was there. Well, Bud and Pharmer were, but they were helpin' him run it so they didn't count. Tolbert, my useless bad-tempered brother-in-law, was sittin' on the seat of his wagon drainin' a bottle wit' a grumpy look on his face. Yea, he was workin' real hard at hardly workin'. God, he was even worse then I remember my daddy Fred bein'. Drunk an' useless, yep-yep-yep.
"Hey, Tolbert, my sister said the Winchester'd be here for me to use." I told the drunk ginger as I came to a stop right in front of him.
"Yea, it's here." Tolbert gruffly told me, noddin' his head, 'fore leanin' down into the back of the wagon behind his seat. "Here ya go." He held the gun out for me to take. "Don't break it."
"I ain't gonna break it." I rolled my eyes at Tolbert, snatchin' the rifle from his grasp.
"Don't know why yer botherin' wit' the shootin' contest for when Squirel's gonna win. He's one o'the best shots 'round Kentucky."
"Yea, well, don't know why you bother in the booze business for when Johnse Hatfield gets all the customers sellin' his low-priced shine." I countered wit' a shit ettin' grin 'fore walkin' off, leavin' Tolbert to moodily stew an' get drunker.
My comment was the truth, Johnse got most of the sales cause people don't like Tolbert's high prices. Also, Johnse's a bit friendlier too, makes chit-chat wit' his customers. People like nice sellers, not grumpy ones.
Wit' my borrowed Winchester slung over my shoulder I headed on over to the table that I saw Novella an' Rihanna at wit' that family I was itchin' to meet. Eh, I just wanted to find out who they were. I saw that the man had light brown hair an' a newsboy cap on his head. The woman, his wife, had darker brown hair that was had a few curled tendrils bouncin' out of the side of her blue bonnet. Bet most of her hair was pulled back in a bun, hidden by the bonnet that matched her dress. The children were two girls an' a boy. All brunettes and little, they were playin' wit' Rihanna. That was good, she needed kids t'play wit' that weren't teasin' tauntin' assholes like our McCoy cousins were.
"Sissy, I'm gonna go to the shootin' contest. Wanna come watch?" I asked my sister, buttin' 'tween the conversation she was havin' wit' the couple I didn't know, as I walked up to her at the table.
Turnin' her attention to me Novella said, "Yea, I'll come watch ya."
"Since you're her brother, reckon we're cousins too." The man told me 'fore stickin' his hand out for a shake an' sayin', "I'm Selkirk McCoy an' this here's my wife."
He must be a disowned McCoy cause he don't come 'round none an' nobody talks 'bout him. I'm gonna ask Novella bout him.
"I'm Moses Quincey." I politely told my newly discovered kin as I quickly shook his hand. Lookin' over at Novella I asked, "Can we go now, I don't wanna miss the shootin' contest."
"Yes, we can go." My sister told me, noddin' her head. "We'll find ya'll later, maybe after his contest." Novella told the couple, our cousins, as she stood up from the table.
"Okay, we'll be 'round." Selkirk assured her 'fore she went over to fetch Rihanna, who was happily playin' wit' her new friends an' kin.
Once my sister had a hold on my niece's hand she waved goodbye to Selkirk an' his family, makin' her way over to me. "Let's go see if ya can outshoot Squirrel." Novella told me, a small smile on her face, as she started to walk towards the shootin' area wit' me an' Rihanna.
Eh, I know I can outshoot Squirrel, but I'm not too sure 'bout Cap. I'm not tellin' her he'll be there tho. Nope, I just nodded my head an' let out a simple, "Yep."
Oh boy, I gotta feelin' this shootin' contest is gonna be good an' mighty interestin'.
AN:
How did ya'll like the stuff in the Election Day Festival so far? The next chapter's the shooting contest along with the fight turned deadly. Oh boy, this book's getting closer and closer to getting done.