{"id":14832,"date":"2023-10-20T05:36:35","date_gmt":"2023-10-20T10:36:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/?p=14832"},"modified":"2025-10-25T18:52:24","modified_gmt":"2025-10-25T23:52:24","slug":"the-dentist-the-bootlegger","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2023\/10\/20\/the-dentist-the-bootlegger\/","title":{"rendered":"The Dentist, The Bootlegger"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<ul class=\"wp-block-social-links is-content-justification-right is-layout-flex wp-container-core-social-links-is-layout-765c4724 wp-block-social-links-is-layout-flex\"><li class=\"wp-social-link wp-social-link-facebook  wp-block-social-link\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/profile.php?id=61556140010887\" class=\"wp-block-social-link-anchor\"><svg width=\"24\" height=\"24\" viewBox=\"0 0 24 24\" version=\"1.1\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" aria-hidden=\"true\" focusable=\"false\"><path d=\"M12 2C6.5 2 2 6.5 2 12c0 5 3.7 9.1 8.4 9.9v-7H7.9V12h2.5V9.8c0-2.5 1.5-3.9 3.8-3.9 1.1 0 2.2.2 2.2.2v2.5h-1.3c-1.2 0-1.6.8-1.6 1.6V12h2.8l-.4 2.9h-2.3v7C18.3 21.1 22 17 22 12c0-5.5-4.5-10-10-10z\"><\/path><\/svg><span class=\"wp-block-social-link-label screen-reader-text\">Facebook<\/span><\/a><\/li>\n\n<li class=\"wp-social-link wp-social-link-instagram  wp-block-social-link\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/boudin_mcneese\/\" class=\"wp-block-social-link-anchor\"><svg width=\"24\" height=\"24\" viewBox=\"0 0 24 24\" version=\"1.1\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" aria-hidden=\"true\" focusable=\"false\"><path d=\"M12,4.622c2.403,0,2.688,0.009,3.637,0.052c0.877,0.04,1.354,0.187,1.671,0.31c0.42,0.163,0.72,0.358,1.035,0.673 c0.315,0.315,0.51,0.615,0.673,1.035c0.123,0.317,0.27,0.794,0.31,1.671c0.043,0.949,0.052,1.234,0.052,3.637 s-0.009,2.688-0.052,3.637c-0.04,0.877-0.187,1.354-0.31,1.671c-0.163,0.42-0.358,0.72-0.673,1.035 c-0.315,0.315-0.615,0.51-1.035,0.673c-0.317,0.123-0.794,0.27-1.671,0.31c-0.949,0.043-1.233,0.052-3.637,0.052 s-2.688-0.009-3.637-0.052c-0.877-0.04-1.354-0.187-1.671-0.31c-0.42-0.163-0.72-0.358-1.035-0.673 c-0.315-0.315-0.51-0.615-0.673-1.035c-0.123-0.317-0.27-0.794-0.31-1.671C4.631,14.688,4.622,14.403,4.622,12 s0.009-2.688,0.052-3.637c0.04-0.877,0.187-1.354,0.31-1.671c0.163-0.42,0.358-0.72,0.673-1.035 c0.315-0.315,0.615-0.51,1.035-0.673c0.317-0.123,0.794-0.27,1.671-0.31C9.312,4.631,9.597,4.622,12,4.622 M12,3 C9.556,3,9.249,3.01,8.289,3.054C7.331,3.098,6.677,3.25,6.105,3.472C5.513,3.702,5.011,4.01,4.511,4.511 c-0.5,0.5-0.808,1.002-1.038,1.594C3.25,6.677,3.098,7.331,3.054,8.289C3.01,9.249,3,9.556,3,12c0,2.444,0.01,2.751,0.054,3.711 c0.044,0.958,0.196,1.612,0.418,2.185c0.23,0.592,0.538,1.094,1.038,1.594c0.5,0.5,1.002,0.808,1.594,1.038 c0.572,0.222,1.227,0.375,2.185,0.418C9.249,20.99,9.556,21,12,21s2.751-0.01,3.711-0.054c0.958-0.044,1.612-0.196,2.185-0.418 c0.592-0.23,1.094-0.538,1.594-1.038c0.5-0.5,0.808-1.002,1.038-1.594c0.222-0.572,0.375-1.227,0.418-2.185 C20.99,14.751,21,14.444,21,12s-0.01-2.751-0.054-3.711c-0.044-0.958-0.196-1.612-0.418-2.185c-0.23-0.592-0.538-1.094-1.038-1.594 c-0.5-0.5-1.002-0.808-1.594-1.038c-0.572-0.222-1.227-0.375-2.185-0.418C14.751,3.01,14.444,3,12,3L12,3z M12,7.378 c-2.552,0-4.622,2.069-4.622,4.622S9.448,16.622,12,16.622s4.622-2.069,4.622-4.622S14.552,7.378,12,7.378z M12,15 c-1.657,0-3-1.343-3-3s1.343-3,3-3s3,1.343,3,3S13.657,15,12,15z M16.804,6.116c-0.596,0-1.08,0.484-1.08,1.08 s0.484,1.08,1.08,1.08c0.596,0,1.08-0.484,1.08-1.08S17.401,6.116,16.804,6.116z\"><\/path><\/svg><span class=\"wp-block-social-link-label screen-reader-text\">Instagram<\/span><\/a><\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-large-font-size\"><strong>The Dentist, The Bootlegger<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>Meghan Louise Wagner<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The drops went the same each month. I kept my hair under my cap and let Julian do the talking. After the boss counted the crates, he\u2019d crack into a random bottle to sample. He\u2019d take a couple glugs, swish, then nod to one of his guys, who\u2019d toss us a sack of cash. He was only thirty but wore vulcanite dentures. Big clean ones. I always wondered why a person so young needed false teeth. Decay, infections, blunt trauma. Maybe before he became a bootlegger, he\u2019d gone off to war like my brother. Maybe a German rammed the butt of a rifle in his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Our last run went the same as the others: Julian and I unloaded the booze and stepped into the corner. A bird cage sat on the floor, the grates brown with rust. At first, I thought there was a kitten inside\u2014silver fur, dark eyes, black paws. But it was actually covered in spikes. Sharp, shining quills.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian saw it, too. \u201cHey,\u201d he said, \u201cthat a lucky pig?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo one calls them that,\u201d said the boss, sniffing a bottle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI heard about them overseas,\u201d Julian said. \u201cIt for sale?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The boss capped the bottle and clicked his dentures. \u201cYou can trade this batch,\u201d he said, nodding at our crates. \u201cBut that\u2019s it. No exchanges.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI\u2019ll take it,\u201d Julian said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He carried the cage and I followed. As we walked to the truck, I wondered how he planned on paying everyone back at the orchard with that creature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The boss had his guys escort us. Usually, they trailed beside us on the path, chattering away, rifles over their shoulders. That night they kept quiet, a few steps behind, holding their rifles with both hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">A cold, dry breeze followed us home. I parked the truck next to the cider mill and Julian remained in the passenger seat, staring at the creature. He must have burned through two boxes of matches on the drive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I hopped out and snatched an apple from the grass. It was still hard to the touch. However, I felt enough pressure to know it\u2019d be a sweet one. I returned to the truck, carved off a slice with my pocket knife, and pushed it through the grates.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The thing had little black hands to go with its little black eyes. It clasped onto the fruit and snatched it away, taking big bites until it vanished. I sliced off another piece. Then another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">On the fourth, Julian swatted my hand. \u201cEmily, stop,\u201d he said, taking the knife. \u201cLet me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Afterwards, Julian brought the creature to his and his wife\u2019s house. I headed to the guest cottage. The orchard had been in Irene\u2019s family for generations, but it had never been profitable. After her father passed, nobody stepped in to take it over until Julian came along and married her. The fruits were too hard for eating, too sour for canning, and too small for making applejack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">In the morning, I ate breakfast with them. There wasn\u2019t a kitchen in the guest cottage, just a tiny fireplace. When I entered the big house, Irene stood at the stove, stirring a sticky pot of oatmeal. She was six months pregnant, her belly swollen as if growing a giant pumpkin. She was a small woman to begin with, a little over five feet. She knew Julian and I were selling booze, but always pretended we were humble apple farmers like her father had been.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">On her way around the table, she tapped my shoulder playfully. \u201cEmily,\u201d she said, \u201cyou let your brother buy a pet rat?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian snapped, \u201cIt\u2019s a hedgehog.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Irene returned to the stove. Less playful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhere is it?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cOver here,\u201d Julian said, kicking the cage beneath the table. I curved past Irene and crouched. In the light of day, I saw the creature clearly. It was the size of a small kitten. Its quills were more golden than silver. When I touched the cage, it rolled over and purred.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt thinks you\u2019re gonna feed it,\u201d Julian said, lifting a book from the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cCareful,\u201d Irene said, waving her spoon. \u201cIt\u2019ll snap your thumbs off, Emily.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian wiggled the book. \u201cThis was in the cage, but I can\u2019t make sense of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I peered at it from the floor. The cover was cracked and brown, written in strange font. Then he flipped it over and tucked it in his back pocket before I could study it any further.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI can\u2019t believe you paid five dollars for that thing,\u201d Irene said, serving him a bowl of oatmeal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I held my tongue. A whole batch sold for at least a hundred. Even though I was the one who did the cooking, Julian only paid me five dollars a week. The one time I challenged him on it, he threatened to send me north to marry a fifty-four year old horse farmer. \u201cHe thinks you\u2019re pretty,\u201d Julian had said. \u201cHe promised me the pick of his stable if I let him marry you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Irene walked back to the stove and dished out two more bowls\u2014one for me and her. I joined them at the table and we ate in silence. Each time I snuck a glance at the cage, I saw the creature gaze back at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">A few years ago, when Julian was off at war, Mom got sick. Dad spent every moment at her side, spoon-feeding her his tonic. He\u2019d originally developed it for his dental patients. It was strong and numbing. Could knock a two-hundred pound man out in ten minutes flat. Technically, it was alcoholic, against the law in Maine. But Dad didn\u2019t care. He always said, \u201cEver try to yank a sober tooth?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">We both wore his surgical masks around Mom, as if she was a patient. When Dad got sick himself, he taught me his recipe so I could make it for both of them. He\u2019d cough orders from bed, instructing me on which tool to use for which process. How to grind the apples, how to push the juice through the sieve, how to cook it down into a syrup, how to let it ferment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Once, when I squeezed an apple with a pair of pliers meant for pulling teeth, Dad got so mad I thought he might spit the influenza right out his lungs. \u201cYou dimwit,\u201d he said, \u201cyou want to grind an apple or yank a molar?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">It took a few tries before I got his recipe right. Eventually, I figured it out. The first time he dozed off, I danced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">But when he woke, he was always frantic. Fevered. He claimed good health started in the gums. Bad teeth could rot your entire immune system. He was convinced the influenza had burrowed inside the roots of his teeth. Each time he struggled to cough or hold down a bowl of soup, he\u2019d slap the spoon from my hand and say, \u201cGet my tools.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">When I returned with his medical bag, he\u2019d bark more orders. \u201cPut the bite block in first,\u201d he\u2019d say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Pulling his teeth took a surprising amount of force. He insisted I save them for him, bloody roots and all. When he awoke, still fevered, he\u2019d examine them. His hands were too shaky to hold the tweezers and so I had to lift them to the light. He\u2019d shake his head, gums swollen. \u201cIt\u2019s still there,\u201d he\u2019d mumble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">In the end, it didn\u2019t matter how many of Dad\u2019s teeth I pulled. He died all the same. First Mom, then him. By the time Julian returned from France, the bank had put a lien on the house. I tried keeping Dad\u2019s practice running, but no one trusted a girl to yank their teeth. Sometimes Dad\u2019s old patients came by looking for a bottle of tonic. I\u2019d also offer to help with their gingivitis or decay, but all they wanted was the booze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Since Julian didn\u2019t have a trade, I tried to teach him Dad\u2019s. The town needed a dentist, after all. I showed him how to hold the forceps, how to twist at his waist, how to scrape around inflamed gums without getting blood all over the place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Once he was ready, we spread word that he\u2019d taken over Dad\u2019s practice. When our first patient arrived, I kept my head down and pretended to be Julian\u2019s secretary. The man had an abscessed wisdom tooth I could smell from the front porch. I invited him inside and poured a tall glass of tonic. After he drifted off in the examination chair, I showed Julian how to secure the infected tooth with the forceps. But right as he touched tines to tooth, he dropped the tools and clambered out the back door, hacking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The patient was dead to the world so I finished the job. When he woke, I pretended Julian had been called off on other business and sent him home with tooth powder and tonic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">After Julian returned, I proposed a new idea: he could pretend to be the dentist, but I\u2019d do all the work once the patients were knocked out. No one would know the difference. We could keep Dad\u2019s practice going. Help the town. Pay off the bank. Live like this as long as we wanted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">But he had another idea. \u201cEmily,\u201d he said, \u201chow\u2019d you get that fellow drunk so fast?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I explained how Dad\u2019s tonic worked. Julian grabbed a notepad and asked what I\u2019d need for a big batch. Lots of fruit, I said. Apples were best, but grapes or pears would do. I\u2019d also need a big grinder for the juice. Strainers. Vats. Barrels. Mashing sticks. A warm area to ferment it and a cold place to store it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Within a week, Julian introduced himself to Irene. He told me she was a small, ugly girl, over thirty. Her uncle wanted to be rid of her and the land. The apples were hard and sour, but they might cook down for tonic. He made marrying her sound like a sacrifice on his part, which I thought was fair if I was going to be the one doing all the work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">However, when I finally met Irene, I was surprised by her loveliness. She had crooked teeth that poked out of her lips. Her tiny jaw wasn\u2019t big enough to hold all of them, so they had to fight for space. One of her bicuspids was longer than the other, making her smile appear delightfully wolfish.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">On the day of their wedding, Julian left her back at the house and walked me through the grove. I hadn\u2019t seen him so cheerful since before he left for the war. He gave me a tour of the cider house and said to make a list of everything we\u2019d need to start our operation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Years later, there we were. Julian gave the seasonal pickers an extra dollar a week to keep their mouths shut. I\u2019d arrive early in the morning and light the vats. Grind the apples. Half would go to regular cider, the other half I\u2019d pack into barrels for fermentation. During harvest season, it meant we were working sixteen hour days, sometimes more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The day after Julian brought the creature home, I was mashing cooked apples for a new batch. He entered the mill, carrying that strange, small animal in a gunny sack around his chest. As they approached, I saw its little black paws and little black eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cGet down,\u201d Julian said. \u201cI need your help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I reminded him of our schedule. He reminded me he ran the place, not me. I released the crank climbed down the ladder, mashing stick in hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">When the creature\u2019s eyes met mine, it crawled out of Julian\u2019s bag and galloped across the table. He reached out to stop it, but it was too fast. It hopped right over the bottles and rubbed its head against my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cPiggy,\u201d Julian said, snapping his fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHey, there,\u201d I said, resting the mashing stick against the table. I kept my gloves on to pet its quills. Even through the thick fabric on my hands, I could feel that it was soft and silky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt thinks you\u2019re gonna feed it,\u201d Julian said. \u201cI told you not to feed it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cSorry,\u201d I said, lifting it from the bottles. It weighed no more than a ball of cotton.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian snatched the creature and tucked it back in his sack. Then he produced that same brown book that came with the cage. \u201cI think it\u2019s a manual,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I can\u2019t figure out how it\u2019s supposed to work.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat makes you think it\u2019s supposed to do anything?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cBack in France,\u201d he said, \u201cguys paid big money for them. They helped you dodge bullets, skip battles, get transferred five hundred miles from the front. And once\u2014after I got back\u2014I even saw a guy in Atlantic City with one. He had it right here,\u201d he said, patting his shirt pocket. \u201cHe walked straight up to a roulette table and put all his money on one slot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat happened?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian closed the book. \u201cHe won.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I glanced between him and the book. \u201cBut what do they <em>do<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cEmily,\u201d he said, \u201cthat is what I\u2019m trying to figure out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I took the book from him and flipped through it. Up close, I recognized the lettering, the way certain consonants jammed together. \u201cIt\u2019s Irish,\u201d I said. \u201cDad had a patient with a bunch of books like this at his house.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He arched a brow. \u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cMr. Cassidy,\u201d I said. \u201cI used to deliver tonic to him. Bloody gums. Terrible gingivitis.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou think he can translate it for me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I turned another page. \u201cI\u2019ll take him a bottle.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">After Julian left with the creature, I remained in the cider house, flipping pages. I couldn\u2019t make sense of the words, yet there were figures and drawings that resembled the creature. In one image, a woman used a tooth brush to clean its bristles. In another, a man scrubbed it like a teacup. In one figure, the creature slept soundly in its cage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Some of the pictures reminded me of Dad\u2019s dental manuals. Same style of drawings. In the appendix, there were even images that looked as if they could have been taken right of out of his reference books. They showed human faces, jawbones, tongues, tonsils, canines, bicuspids, molars, wisdom teeth. An entire page was devoted to tools: forceps, pliers, tongue depressors, scalpels, bite blocks, bristles for cleaning between teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Later I rode my bike to the Cassidy\u2019s on the other side of town. When I pulled up, Mrs. Cassidy clutched a wire broom and shook her head\u2014same way little old ladies did when they saw me around town in my work clothes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWe\u2019re not interested,\u201d she said, sweeping the porch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIs Mr. Cassidy around?\u201d I kept the bottle tucked in my bag, but removed the book. \u201cHe was one of my father\u2019s patients.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI know what your father used to do and I know what your brother does.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I lingered on the bottom step and showed her the book. \u201cYou\u2019re from Ireland, right? Can you read?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She glared at me. \u201cYou think you\u2019re the only smart little lady around here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDo you know what this says?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She squinted. \u201cLooks like a children\u2019s book.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s not for kids,\u201d I said, handing it to her. \u201cIt\u2019s a manual. A reference guide.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She wouldn\u2019t take it. \u201cThen it\u2019s a joke,\u201d she said. \u201cSatire.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHow do you figure?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She leaned the broom against the porch railing. \u201cBecause,\u201d she said, \u201cit says: <em>How to Care for Your Magic Swine<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cMagic?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cEnchanted, maybe. I don\u2019t know.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat else can you tell me?\u201d I asked, opening the pages, showing one of a man carrying the creature on his shoulder, feeding it a jagged piece of fruit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She stepped closer, but still wouldn\u2019t touch the pages. Her silver hair smelled doughy, with a hint of onion. She snapped her fingers, motioning for me to turn pages.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">And then she laughed. \u201cEmily,\u201d she said, \u201cit\u2019s a joke.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat\u2019s the joke?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt says they eat teeth,\u201d she said, lifting a brow. \u201cHuman teeth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I flipped back to picture of the creature nibbling on a piece of fruit. When I looked closer, I recognized roots and divots. She grabbed the broom and returned to sweeping. \u201cPaul\u2019s got bloody gums again,\u201d she said. \u201cCould your brother help with that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I closed the book and tucked it under my arm. \u201cMy brother\u2019s not a dentist.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">That night, it never cooled off. Even after the sun dropped, the air remained thick and warm. I sat in bed, studying the manual. The words blurred together, but I paid attention to the pictures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Jaws. Tongues. Teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The next day, it was so hot in the orchard that most of the pickers took off their shirts. Sweat dripped from their ladders. Julian paced through the cider mill, carrying the creature in the sack around his chest. He rolled up his sleeves and checked the thermometer outside the barn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cEighty-five in October,\u201d he said, shaking his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">It was even hotter inside. I fastened my goggles and prepared to climb the ladder over a bubbling vat of apple mash. Julian lingered by the door, breathing the fresh air. He asked if I had any luck with Mr. Cassidy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo,\u201d I said, \u201chis wife says it\u2019s just a children\u2019s book. Means nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou didn\u2019t ask him?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHis wife can read, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He clenched the strap of his sack, keeping the creature tucked inside. \u201cSo the boss swindled us?\u201d he said. \u201cWhat a load of hooey.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Steam chugged from the vat, clouding my goggles. \u201cMaybe it\u2019s just a hedgehog,\u201d I said. \u201cMaybe that\u2019s all it\u2019s supposed to be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s useless,\u201d he said, stepping out the door. \u201cThat\u2019s what.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cTo get rid of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I dropped the paddle and raced back down the ladder. \u201cNo,\u201d I said, \u201cno, don\u2019t. Let me have it then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s just a rodent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI don\u2019t care. I\u2019ll take care of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt sleeps all day. Vomits everything. Irene does not want it around the baby.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt can stay with me in the guest house. I\u2019ll keep it in the cage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo,\u201d he said, striding out of the cider house. \u201cWe\u2019re going back tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">My instinct was to chase after him, yank the sack from his chest, run off with the creature\u2014but where would we go? It was Julian\u2019s land. Everything belonged to him. All he\u2019d have to do is yell to one of the pickers and they\u2019d stop me cold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I climbed the ladder and lifted the paddle. The juice was simmering\u2014liquid gold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Once the batch was ready to cool, I raced to the guest cottage, sweating the whole way. Julian\u2019s truck was in the drive. I flung my closet open and found the set of clothes I always wore on our runs: Julian\u2019s when he was a teenager.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">After I stuffed my hair beneath the cap, I crouched and searched through the foot locker that held Dad\u2019s equipment: his forceps, bite blocks, dried out clay, model teeth, his recipe journals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Then, at the bottom of the box, I found the envelope filled with Dad\u2019s teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I tucked it in my pocket and ran to Julian\u2019s house. Irene sat on the couch, feet on the ottoman, dressed in a thin, white night gown that was so sweat-soaked I could see the outline of her breasts and belly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s too hot to cook,\u201d she said, a hand across her forehead. Her voice was high pitched, tense. \u201cWill you be okay if we just have salad and beans again?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cSounds great,\u201d I said, walking swiftly through the living room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She lifted her head and laughed. \u201cOh, Emily,\u201d she said, her voice returning to its normal calm cadence. \u201cI thought you were Julian.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s the suspenders.\u201d I snapped them on my way to the kitchen. The creature sat in its cage, waiting to be delivered home. Julian was right. It looked languid, sad, tired. Of no use.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">As I came close, it rolled over and sniffed. I knelt down, removed Dad\u2019s molar from my pocket, and held it out on the tip of my finger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The creature snatched it. Swallowed it in one gulp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian\u2019s boots clomped down the hallway. \u201cHey,\u201d he said, \u201cwhat\u2019s it doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The creature nuzzled its head through the grates, begging for more. I pet its soft quills and said I went back and convinced Mr. Cassidy to translate the book after all. He said to feed the pet cooked fruit and soft-scrambled eggs from red hens, instead of raw fruit or bread. \u201cHe\u2019s translating the rest,\u201d I said. \u201cWe owe him another bottle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">This satisfied Julian\u2019s immediate urge to return the creature, buying me another night. We ate salad for dinner and Irene retired to the couch, still sweating. I stayed close to the creature. Each time I flicked my fingers through its cage, it reached up and squeezed\u2014sending sparks through my veins. Something was changing within me, but I couldn\u2019t say what.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cGet to bed, Emily,\u201d Julian said, wiping sweat from his brow. \u201cGot a big haul tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I returned to the guest house but stayed up all night reading the manual. Warm wind slipped through the windows. The words made no sense, but the pictures took on more meaning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">For the most part, the images were concerned with gambling (roulette, horse racing, baccarat, poker, the stock market), but there was also a section on favorable outcomes in ordinary situations (baking the perfect cake, willing away rainy days, recovering from illness, finding love, selling horses).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">As I studied the drawings, I understood the main ideas. It was just like Julian said: the creatures were essentially good luck charms. They made favorable outcomes for their owners\u2014but required human teeth in exchange. I thought of the boss and his dentures. How stern he was when he said, \u201cNo exchanges.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">From the diagrams, I guessed healthy teeth were best. An entire section was concerned with avoiding abscessed teeth and decayed roots. Dad\u2019s teeth\u2014despite his paranoia\u2014were fairly healthy at the end. They\u2019d do for now. But this much was clear: if I wanted the creature to work the way it was supposed to, I needed to find it a fresher food source.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The next day, I found Julian in his office. The creature sat next to his typewriter, pawing at a small chunk of boiled egg. Once I stepped inside, its head immediately rose, its eyes widened, and its snout sniffed like a rat searching for cheese.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian kept typing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHere,\u201d I said, handing him a stack of papers. \u201cMore from Mr. Cassidy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian snatched them. I leaned against the desk, watching the creature. It butted its head to my hand, purring. Julian kept turning through my phony notes. In addition to feeding it eggs, I wrote to let it sleep beside you. Give it lots of companionship. Use a toothbrush to comb its quills.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian shook his head and grumbled. \u201cI can\u2019t do anything with this,\u201d he said. \u201cI need to know what\u2019s so special about it. It\u2019s just acting like a regular rodent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s all Mr. Cassidy said.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He smacked my notes against the desk. I worried, briefly, that he figured out the swindle. But then he wiped sweat from his brow. \u201cBring the barrels down to the cellar tonight. Make sure they don\u2019t spoil.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDad always left them to ferment. Get the bacteria going.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian\u2014who knew as much about cooking as he did dentistry\u2014shook his head. \u201cNo,\u201d he said, \u201cput them in the cellar tonight. Grab a couple pickers to help you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">On my way out of the office, I glanced at the creature. It tore tiny pieces of yolk from the egg and flicked them to the floor. But when it looked directly at me, I felt fuzz in my head, same as when I sipped a fresh batch of tonic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">While Julian resumed typing, I pretended to bend down and pick the egg bits from the floor. I snuck another one of Dad\u2019s teeth from my pocket and held it out, pretending it was a piece of egg white. The creature quickly grabbed it with both paws and opened its mouth wide\u2014wider than I thought possible\u2014and swallowed it up in one gulp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The hairs on the back of my neck buzzed. My head, cheeks, and shoulders tingled. Blood rushed through my body. I could float to the ceiling, suck up the electricity, make the sky open up and rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian kept typing, paying no attention to the transformation going on inside me. In fact, the more I willed him to look away, the more he focused on his typewriter. Around us, the colors of the office brightened. Greens, blues, yellows. The windows sparkled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cEmily?\u201d he said, breaking the spell. \u201cWhat are you still doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I stepped out of the office. Once I was back in the cider house, the fuzz faded, leaving my skull dry and aching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I filled and rolled the barrels without grabbing any pickers to help. Took half the normal time. Despite Julian\u2019s orders, I left them to ferment. With this heat, I figured they\u2019d be ready to move by tomorrow. I scrubbed the vats, sanitized the grinder, and polished the mashing stick until it sparkled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Around supper, I headed home. Julian must have stayed at the office. Probably still fretting over the late season heat-wave. I popped my head into the kitchen. Irene didn\u2019t have anything cooking. A stink of lettuce and butter beans still sat in the sink from last night. Rotting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Once again, she was draped across the couch, elbow over her forehead. \u201cThis heat\u2019s atrocious,\u201d she said quietly, as if afraid to admit it. \u201cI don\u2019t think I can cook.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s just me,\u201d I said softly, leaning against the pocket-door. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to apologize. Anything I can do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She opened her mouth wide and yawned. \u201cNothing helps,\u201d she said. \u201cBut thanks, Emily. We\u2019re so lucky to have you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I thought of Mom and Dad in their last days. All the former patients who showed up on our doorstep with desperate eyes and swollen cheeks. It was a worthwhile life, alleviating pain. Why did anyone have to suffer?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">When I returned to the orchard, I checked the office for Julian but he wasn\u2019t there. I strolled back through the grove and asked the pickers. None had seen him. Finally, I headed to the cider mill. All the doors and windows were open, but it was still sweltering. A strong stink of rotten eggs hung in the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Noxious. Sulfurous.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Julian stood beside a barrel in the fermentation area. He covered his face with a cloth. The creature poked its head out of his knapsack, peering at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s ruined,\u201d he said, coughing. He kept one hand over the cloth and waved his other hand at the barrels. \u201cAll of it. What did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I said, wincing. \u201cIt must be the heat. It\u2019s too hot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you take it to the cellar?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI always leave it here to start. It\u2019s how Dad taught me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI told you!\u201d He dropped the cloth and smacked a barrel. \u201cI\u2019m the one you listen to. I\u2019m the one!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I took deep breaths, swallowing my coughs. The creature\u2019s head poked further out of the bag, black eyes on me. I didn\u2019t understand what I had done wrong. I gave it Dad\u2019s teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cAnd this thing?\u201d Julian said, flipping the strap of his bag over his shoulder. It fell to the floor with a thump. \u201cUseless!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Quickly, I rushed to it, bending at the knee. It was safe, but angered. Annoyed. It crawled out and up my arm, then remained firmly on my shoulder. Its quills were soft against my neck, but sharp at the points, jabbing my chin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI\u2019m done with you,\u201d Julian said, smacking the lid of another barrel. \u201cYou can go north. Maybe you\u2019ll learn.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">&#8220;Go north?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou\u2019ll marry that horse farmer. You are not my burden.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I laughed. A big, honking laugh. \u201cYour burden? Julian, I\u2019m the one who does all the work and you still pay me like a picker. This is your wife\u2019s land, but you treat her like you own her. You don\u2019t contribute. You want everything but don\u2019t deserve any of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWe leave in the morning,\u201d he said, walking past me. \u201cBe ready.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The laughter left me. The air still stank, but I took big breaths. The creature nuzzled into my neck, sharp and soft at the same time. We\u2019d had batches spoil before. It happened sometimes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWait, Julian,\u201d I said, \u201cI can fix this. You need me. You\u2019re going to need me when the baby comes and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou don\u2019t get it,\u201d he says, kicking my newly polished mashing stick. \u201cIt\u2019s all over. We\u2019re behind. The bank\u2019s taking the orchard. I\u2019m saving what I can and getting out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou lost the land?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI\u2019ve been trying to save it. That\u2019s why I bought this thing, why we needed the batch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cJulian,\u201d I said, shaking my head, \u201cyou dimwit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He didn\u2019t hesitate. He spun and shoved my shoulders, flinging me against the wall. He followed it up with a sharp knee to my stomach. I fell to the floor, hurt and heaving\u2014but mostly surprised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He stood over me, rolling his sleeves. He said something else, but I didn\u2019t hear it. Dust and sulfur caught in my throat. Nearby, thunder rumbled. Rain battered the roof. It would only make it more humid\u2014ruin any last chance we had of salvaging the batch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The creature butted its head to mine. The soft, pointless gesture of a loyal pet, checking on its master\u2014but then I finally understood: the book, the pictures, the vulcanite dentures. The creature didn\u2019t want self-sacrifice, sabotage. It wanted someone to care for it. A real provider.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cClean yourself up,\u201d Julian said. \u201cBe ready in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The mashing stick had rolled to the floor. I reached for it and sprung to my feet, gripping it like a baseball bat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">When Julian turned to me confused\u2014I didn\u2019t hesitate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dad was the one who taught me how to keep a steady hand. Once his patients were knocked out, he\u2019d call for me to wash up. He taught me the difference between a scaler and a sickle probe; taught me which forceps were for molars, which for canines and incisors; taught me how to scrape around the gums so they wouldn\u2019t bleed; how to clean them when they did; how to fill a cavity; how to know when a tooth needed to be pulled; how to tie a knot of silk floss so it would stay tight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Whenever I faltered with a pair or forceps or a drill, he\u2019d put a calm hand on my shoulder. No one had stiller, cooler hands than Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cKeep steady,\u201d he\u2019d say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat if I can\u2019t?\u201d I\u2019d ask, shaking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cThen pretend.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The storm killed the heatwave. The next morning, frost fell upon the orchard. I called every picker to harvest the remaining apples, lest they freeze on the branches. In the chaos, it was easy to get everyone to believe Julian had slipped on a ladder in an icy grove, broke his neck, lost a few teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">No one questioned it. We buried him beside our parents. That winter, Irene gave birth to a baby girl and named her Julia. The creature and I moved into the house to help. She was a good baby, healthy. We made it through winter just fine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">That spring, I turned the guest cottage into my dental practice. Over the years, the apples have started to grow big and sweet. Perfect for eating right off the trees. Irene runs the orchard as she likes and I stick to my patients. Sometimes Julia helps me boil my tools. Patients never notice the creature on my shoulder or the little girl carrying forceps and scrapers. They see what they want. Of course, every once in a while I have to take a healthy tooth. Something no one will miss much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>Meghan Louise Wagner<\/strong> lives in Northeast Ohio. Her short stories have appeared in such places as <em>Nashville Review<\/em>, <em>The Journal, Cutleaf, AGNI<\/em>, <em>The Best American Short Stories, <\/em>and elsewhere. More about her can be found at meghanlouisewagner.com<\/p>\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"alignleft size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"438\" height=\"211\" src=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-15484\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1.jpg 438w, https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1-300x145.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 438px) 100vw, 438px\" \/><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center has-large-font-size\">&lt;&lt; <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2023\/10\/20\/snappers-the-man-on-the-mattress\/\">Back<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2023\/10\/20\/2-1-2-3\/\">Next<\/a> &gt;&gt;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">To learn more about submitting your work to <em><a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/boudin-submissions\/\">Boudin<\/a><\/em> or applying to McNeese State University&#8217;s Creative Writing <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/mfa-application-submissions\/\">MFA program<\/a>, please visit Submissions for details.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Dentist, The Bootlegger Meghan Louise Wagner __________ The drops went the same each month. I kept my hair under my cap and let Julian do the talking. After the boss counted the crates, he\u2019d crack into a random bottle to sample. He\u2019d take a couple glugs, swish, then nod to one of his guys,&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[240],"tags":[75,147,26],"class_list":["post-14832","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-boodin-bite-of-the-uncanny-oct-23","tag-boudin","tag-halloween","tag-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14832","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14832"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14832\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21040,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14832\/revisions\/21040"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14832"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14832"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14832"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}