Wayne toasted them again, wheezing out a laugh and babbling to himself as an encore. Sam looked to Calvin for help, but there was nothing the medicine man could think to say. Besides, the second gulp of moonshine was making him soften round the edges. Sam opened his fist and showed the company the shiny flat disc of metal that had been a dollar. He waited for whatever was going to happen next, and Moses through his haze of drunkenness was somehow able to time that wait to its excruciating limit.

‘Fix the guests somethin’ to eat.’

Relief swam into Sam’s almond-shaped black eyes and he closed his fist on his coin. Marlene was stirred by the cold air that came into the cabin with her son and she propped herself up on one elbow, squinting at him, trying to focus. ‘Is ’at ma darlin’? Ma darlin’ come home to his Mama? Come here ma baby.’

Sam walked quickly into the back room to escape. Calvin heard him moving about, shifting objects on a table, presumably looking for something edible to offer them. His mother sank back down onto her arm again, making a cooing sound as though chucking a baby under its chin.

Moses took a long swig of his drink, gritting his teeth and saying gaaaar through them as it slipped down his throat, then leaned across to Calvin with a cunning conspiratorial glint, his voice thick from the burning liquor. ‘You want to see somethin’ good? You watch this.’

He leaned forward in his chair, nearly toppling out of it, put down his jar as though it were the finest wafer-thin porcelain and felt in his jeans pocket for something. The operation took a long time, but eventually he fished out a coin. A dollar. He winked at Calvin, kicked at Wayne to pay attention to what he was doing, then winked at him too. With the concentration of a chef putting a cherry on top of his cake, he placed the coin on top of the raging hot stove and sat back in his chair with a contented and triumphant expression. He put a finger to his nose and tapped it at Calvin, then sank another drink. Calvin watched the yellow of the dollar start to discolour and tarnish with the extreme heat.

‘He don’t do nothin’ for his ol’ man.’

Moses shook his head solemnly. For a moment the sly face softened into a mockery of self-pity, like he was going to cry. The maudlin tears of a drunk.

‘Nothin’. Flattens those dollars he earns in town so’s I can’t use ’em. I know it. I know it.’

Calvin had poured the remains of his cup down his throat. He’d wanted another. Just to blot out the misery of the room.