Daddy kept a still in the pole shed where he conditioned his fighting roosters. He kept vats of fruit wine and green beer in different stages of fermentation. Once, when I was twelve and the green beer was ready for bottling, I helped cap the newly bottled beer. He instructed me to drink each bottle down to the right level and then cap it. He filled every bottle a little too full. Later, the world spun and shifted and I was scared when, on my knees, I threw up behind the shed while Daddy laughed. The next time, I didn't let him see me throw up.
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