Rabbit Fever

As soon as he saw there was a man driving the Tahoe pulling into the dirt drive down the hill from his house, Eb motioned for Jenny to go inside, but she didn't pay him no never mind and just sat there on the weathered porch railing in her cutoff jeans, watching. It pissed him off, but there wasn't much he could do about it—he couldn't control her anymore, not like he used to.

He didn't like men seeing her in those goddamn shorts with her ass hanging out and he'd told her about it a hundred times. A wife was supposed to obey, the bible said so, but over the last couple of years, ever since she turned eighteen it seemed, Jenny had become more and more independent and listened to him less and less. He was afraid to smack her—the last time she ran off and stayed gone for hours.

He got out of his chair and walked over to the bare plank steps to look down at the SUV. It looked like something the law might drive, but he didn't think it was the law, it was dark green and had a sun roof, besides the ATF boys would have come in faster. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his worn bib overalls, and spat a rope of tobacco juice out onto the weedy, grassless yard.

A man carrying a small, black leather bag emerged and looked up at the old Victorian house on top of the hill. It had once been a majestic residence, he could tell, but now it was in disrepair and needed paint badly. The man waved, then began climbing the brick steps set into the red clay bank that rose maybe eight feet up to the path through the house's overgrown yard.

Eb nodded to the stranger—Jenny just continued to stare.

Stopping at the bottom of the porch steps, the man took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He merely glanced at Jenny, resisting the temptation to stare. "Hot ain't it," he said.

"Yeah, 'tis." said Eb, "one of the hottest we had in years. Probably been over ninety ever day this week. It got hot like this a few year ago, but not fer this long a time. I remember one time it hit a hunnert, but it didn't seem no hotter'n this. And..."

"Yeah, it's awful hot," Jenny interrupted. The stranger looked to be twice her age, probably forty, maybe older, older than Eb, even. He looked fit and strong with big hands and wide shoulders. Not bad for an old man.

"You Ebenezer Dunn?" The stranger asked.

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm Doctor Tom Hunter from over at Bryson City. Just call me Doc, everybody does. I'm going around the hills checking folks for Rabbit Fever—county sent me. Had a death from it up near Grandfather Mountain—bad way to go, too. You get to where you can't breathe."

"Well, we don't hardly ever eat no rabbit, Doc, an' I clean everthing real good. Wash it in salt water and everthing. Sonny Pitchland taught me that trick years ago. He was a game warden, and a damn good 'un too. Full blooded Cherokee. Grew up over on the reservation and lived there 'til he died a few year ago. Minded his own business and didn't go around hassling folks fer no reason, especially the local folks. I don't recon we got no Rabbit Fever, though, I really don't. Now..."

"Sounds like a good way to prepare game, Mr. Dunn, you'll have to tell me more sometime. However, Rabbit Fever doesn't usually come from eating rabbit. Usually comes from getting bitten by a flea or tick, mosquito maybe, that has bitten an infected animal. Could be an infected deer, squirrel, possum, or pretty much anything. Either one of you had any headaches, dizziness, upset stomach, coughing, fever, joint pain, soreness, tiredness, anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nah, we ain't got none of them. Well, the old lady gets stomach aches and sick headaches, but hit ain't nothing new. She's had them headaches ever since we got hitched, nigh on four year ago. She won't but sixteen then and didn't have nowhere to go, so I took her in. Ended up marryin' her. She started having them headaches and such right after that. I figured it uhs growing pains. You never seen a girl skinny as she was and then she started fillin' out like nobody's business. Yeah, she growed up a right smart in no time. We ain't got no Rabbit Fever, though, Doc, I kin tell ye that."

"You think I've got Rabbit Fever, mister?" Jenny asked.

"Well, I don't know, ma'am. You look healthy enough, no question about that, both of you do, but I'd still like to check you out and make sure—be on the safe side. Besides, it doesn't cost anything."

"Yeah, I recon hit won't hurt nothin' to git checked, if'n hit's free." said Eb. "Come on up and have a chair, Doc, and let's talk a spell." Eb walked back to his rocking chair. "How 'bout some tea? You like ice tea?"

"That sounds mighty good, if it isn't too much trouble." Doc climbed the four porch steps, nodded to Jenny, and sat in the rocker beside Eb.

"Nah, ain't no trouble a tall," Eb said. "We use that Lipton Black Tea. Keep a pitcher of it made up all the time. Hope you like it sweet, Doc, cause that's how we make it—bout two cups a sugar to a gallon pitcher. You need to add the sugar when it's still good and hot—the sugar takes hold better then. If you wait till it gets cold, you can't never get it sweet enough. Mama, go fetch us some."

"Yes, sir, Your Majesty," Jenny said and sauntered into the house, yanking the screen door open, then sticking her shapely butt out to catch it, keep it from slamming behind her.

Eb spat into a coffee tin next to his chair. "Care for a chaw, Doc? It's Beechnut. Sweetest chawin' baccy they is. I been chawin' Beechnut nigh on twenty years, an it's good, I'm here to tell ye."

"No thanks, I don't chew anymore, Eb. I had to give it up a few years ago, smoking too. I miss it."

"I never smoked, not nary bit, not even a pipe. That's one habit I never took up. Never much liked the smell and I got sick as a dog the first time I tried it. Me and Jimmy Henson was down by Elbow Creek, catching tadpoles. I couldn't a been more'n about eleven, and he had a pack of his daddy's Camels. I smoked three or four of them things and throwed up til I thought I was gonna die. Like to a puked my guts out." Eb chuckled. "Jimmy got sick hisself just from watching me. I tell you, that was enough fer me—never tried it again."

Doc laughed. "Good for you, Mr. Dunn. Good for you. You'll live a lot longer. A lot longer."

"Just call me Eb, Doc. I don't much like bein' called Mister. I don't feel like I'm no better than nobody else and I don't want nobody to think I do. Now some men like to be called Mister, makes 'em feel important and all, but not me. Just call me Eb."

"Why sure, Eb. Eb it is." Doc looked off at the adjacent mountains and said, "I hunted bear back in here a while back. You ever do any bear hunting, Eb?"

"Yeah, but not in a long time. Too much trouble totin' 'em around after you kill one and I don't much go fer the meat neither—can be kinda greasy and sweet an all like that. I hunt deer mostly. Course they's plenty a rabbit an squirrel around here, an birds an turkey to, even wild boar, but I don't like to mess with them boar—too dangerous. Rosco Peedin, from over across Turkey Creek, had dogs git kilt awhile back and they dang near got him too—chased him up a tree. He sat up there most of the day, too, 'til his son-in-law came looking fer him and found him. It just goes to show that it ain't wise to go off huntin' by your self. Lots of stuff can happen out there in them woods."

Jenny returned with three glasses of iced tea. "Here, mister," she said offering Doc the first one. "I'm Jenny. I'm just the maid around here in case you didn't notice."

Doc laughed. "And a mighty good one, too, I'd say. Eb's a lucky man, Jenny. And please, call me Doc."

Jenny handed Eb his tea, then leaned back against the railing in front of Doc, standing with her tan legs crossed. "Where'd you say you were from, again, Doc?" she asked.

"I grew up here in North Carolina, over near Boone, but I live in Atlanta now."

"I thought you said you were from Bryson City," Jenny said.

"Now, don't go quizzin' the Doctor, Mama, he done told you where he's from," Eb said.

"I did say I was from Bryson City, ma'am, but what I meant was that I'm working out of the hospital over there. I live in Atlanta. I hope that answers your question."

"We haven't heard anything about Rabbit Fever around here, Doc. Was it on the news?" asked Jenny.

"Yeah, I think it was mentioned on TV over in Boone, but that's about all."

"What channel?" she asked.

"Whatever their local channel is, Jenny. And they played it down. You know, made it sound like an isolated case—like the flu or something. Guess they didn't want to cause a panic," said Doc.

"Yeah, you don't know who or what to believe anymore, do you, Doc?" Jenny said and took a deep breath, stretching her tee shirt tight across her bare breasts.

"If'n it's the government talking they's lying," said Eb. "I don't believe nothing they say no more. Why, just yesterday..."

"Do you travel around much? Go to lots of towns?" asked Jenny.

"Right much, ma'am. I've been all over the country in the last few years. They send me out where they think there's a chance an epidemic might break out. And then, sometimes I just go where I think I'm needed, where I think I can help. That's why I'm here."

"What, Swain County sends you all over the country?" Jenny asked.

"No, the federal government hires me, ma'am and they send me to help local governments."

"You're lucky. I wish I could travel," said Jenny. "I went to Nashville on a church trip once when I was twelve. Saw the Opry. That's about the only place I've ever been." She cut her eyes over at Eb with an accusatory glance.

"If you really want to travel, Jenny, then I'm sure the opportunity will present itself, all in good time." Doc nodded and winked, as if to put a period on his statement, like it was the final, definitive word, then took the last swallow of his tea.

"Quit botherin' the doctor, Jenny, he don't wanna tell you his whole life story," said Eb.

She tilted her head, looking Doc in the eye, and uncrossed her legs, spreading them slightly, almost imperceptibly flexing her thighs as she did so. "Aw hush, Eb, I ain't botherin' him. Am I bothering you, Doc?"

"No, not at all. You're smart and you catch on quickly. I like that, ma'am." Doc said, looking straight back at her.

"I graduated high school at sixteen," she said, still looking him straight in the eye. "I wanted to go to college, but Eb wouldn't let me."

"We was talking 'til you butted in, Jenny. Why don't you go find sumpn to do," Eb said.

"There's nothing to do. There never is anything to do around this place, so ya'll just keep on talking." Jenny hopped up on the railing and shifted her ass side-to-side, settling it more comfortably. "I ain't going inside, Eb."

"Tell me something, Eb," Doc paused a second, pretending to size him up, "you wouldn't by any chance know where a man could get a drink of that good moonshine they make around these parts, would you? Strictly for medicinal purposes of course."

Jenny laughed out loud.

Eb smiled and said, "We keep us some corn squeezins around here, Doc. Like you said, it's good medicine—good fer snake bites, I hear tell."

"There's lots of snakes around here. I think I just saw one," Jenny said. "Let's have us a drink just in case we get bitten."

Doc laughed.

Eb chuckled. "Reminds me of Riley Toomey's daughter getting bit awhile back. She was playing out around the barn and got bit by a Rat Snake—damn things can look just like a Copperhead and if you corner 'em, they'll bite you. Ain't poison but they break the skin—nasty bite. Well, ol' Riley got all panicky and then he remembered shine was supposed to be good fer snake bites. Told his old lady to go in the house and get the liquor. Well, sir, she got mad as hell and told him she didn't care how upset he wuz, he won't gonna start drinkin' til they got their daughter looked after."

Doc laughed out loud. "A sip or two'd go down mighty good right now. I'd even buy some to go if you had any to spare. Good stuff is hard to find. I'm always looking for good stuff." He smiled at Jenny.

"Go see if you can't find us a jar, Mama, an maybe slice up a couple a 'maters fer chasers," Eb said.

"Sounds good to me," Jenny said, "I think I could use a drink or two. I want to be ready, just in case I get bitten."

"Only one or two, you know how you git," Eb said.

"Yeah, yeah." Jenny rolled her eyes and went inside.

"You know, a man's mighty lucky to have a good wife, Eb," said Doc. "I almost lost mine some years back. Thank God I didn't. Don't know what I'd do without her."

"What? She have the cancer or something, Doc?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. She had something called Libidinal Distress Syndrome. It's a terrible damn thing. Women who have it want to flirt and carry on with every young fellow they meet. They don't seem to care much for the older ones, there just seems to be something about the young ones they like. I don't tell many people this, Eb, but my wife was about to run off and leave me before I caught it."

"Damn, Doc."

"Yeah. I caught it just in time, Eb. It was awful. She quit cooking and cleaning, wouldn't do a thing I asked her to, and wanted sex all the time. I mean a man can only do so much and those young fellows were after her all the time. She'd flirt with them and stuff, Eb. It was awful, but she couldn't help it."

"Damn, Doc. What did ye do about it?"

"I studied up on it, Eb, even went back to school to learn how to cure it. It isn't hard to cure for a doctor trained in the treatment. The problem is that there aren't many doctors trained in treating Libidinal Distress Syndrome or LDS."

"Really, Doc? Did it take long to cure her?"

"No, that's the good thing, Eb. For a doctor trained in the cure, who knows what he's doing, really knows his stuff, it only takes one or two treatments. Now each treatment takes some time—several hours, depending on the case. My wife had it bad and I was learning back then, so it took me longer with her, three or four treatments, but it worked, thank God. Now, she's the best wife you ever saw. Cooks and cleans and does most anything I ask. It was like a miracle, Eb."

"You know, Doc, now that you mention it, I think maybe Jenny might have a touch of that."

"Really? I wouldn't have suspected it, Eb. Does she get all flirty around young fellows?"

"Yep. That's what happens."

"Is it just an occasional thing, Eb, or is she that way all the time/"

"It's purty much all the time, but it's worse when she's had a few drinks. I don't hardly ever take her to town no more like I used to. She was skinny and not much to look at when we hitched and there won't no problem, but then a few year ago she filled out purty good an, ever since, them town fellers is after her all the time, looking her up an down an stuff. I don't know what to do, Doc. She don't never want to cook no more or do much cleaning neither. Sometimes, I think she'd leave if she had any place to go."

"Sure sounds like LDS, Eb. It's mainly a young woman's affliction. It's like a sickness, but it's mainly psychological—in the mind. They want to stay attractive to the young men, don't seem to care about older men, just the young ones."

"Yeah, it does seem to just be the young uns, Doc."

"Do you think she's been messing around with any of those fellows, Eb?"

"I don't think none of em's ever got to her. I been watchin' her purty close, but after a couple a drinks, she gits real flirty-like an I'm askeered of what might happen some time. I can't watch her all the time."

"Yeah, she needs to be treated before, God forbid, something does happen. You know, Eb, I've treated lots of cases. It's easy to cure, just takes a little time."

"Really? Do ye think you could do something about my ol' lady?'

"Sure, no problem. It takes a little time, like I said, but I'll be glad to help you, my friend, if you want me to. Before long, she'll have forgotten all about those young bucks and we'll have her thinking about nothing but cooking and cleaning. Cooking and cleaning, Eb. Cooking and cleaning."

"What is it you do to 'em, Doc?"

"My treatment is a combination of things, Eb—hypnosis and medication, also some nerve stimulation and psychological manipulations, different techniques to change their thinking. It's a little complicated and it takes know-how. Not many doctors know how to treat it, but I've been to school for it, medical school, and I've had a lot of practice at it, Eb. Jenny'll be fine, believe me, and I can have you back to eating good home cooking before you know it."

"You sure, Doc?"

"I'm positive, Eb. Like I said, I've cured lots of them, many worse than your wife. Soon as I make sure neither of you has Rabbit Fever, we can get started if you want."

"Shore, Doc, the sooner the better. What can I do to help?"

"Basically nothing. I'll tell you all about it later when..." Doc stopped in mid sentence as he heard Jenny approach the door and put his finger to his lips, shushing Eb. "Yeah, that ten pointer was a nice buck, Eb, best shot I ever made. Pardon me if I brag a little."

"Sounds like a good un, fer shore, Doc," Eb said.

Jenny came onto the porch carrying a metal TV tray that held a half-gallon Ball jar nearly full of clear moonshine, three small jelly glasses, a plate of tomatoes cut into bite size wedges, a salt shaker, and three cans of Bush beer. "Here we go, fellows," she said, giggling, and set the tray in front of them.

"You already took a sip or two, didn't ye Mama?"

"Yeah, I did, Eb, while I was fixing it for you, so shoot me." She gave Eb a defiant look and made a face at him.

"Okay, Mama, no big deal," Eb said, "I just wondered, that's all."

She poured about two fingers of liquor into each glass and handed one to each man. "Bottoms up," she said and tossed her drink down, then picked up a beer and resumed her place against the porch railing in front of Doc.

Eb salted a wedge of tomato, tossed his drink down, then ate the tomato chaser while Doc just took a small sip from his glass.

Eb poured himself another and chased it with beer while Doc finished off his first one.

"Man, that's good shine," Doc said and ate a slice of tomato.

"It's the best shine in Swain County, Doc," Jenny said, "and we ought to know 'cause Eb makes it."

"Watch yore mouth, woman," Eb said.

"It's okay, Eb," said Doc, "You don't have to worry about me, I'm just glad that I now have a friend I can get it from. Good moonshine is hard to find these days and there's nothing like it."

"Eb makes good liquor, Doc. He just sells it mostly to the folks around here. I'd like for him to quit the moonshine business, myself, and become a farmer, if you know what I mean. He could make a lot more money that way," Jenny said and giggled.

Eb shot her a look. "I ain't growing none a that stuff, Jenny. Asides, my family been moonshinin' nigh on a hunnert an fifty years an I ain't quittin' now."

"Shine is medicine as far as I'm concerned," Doc said, "It's like a lot of things, a little now and then is good for you." He laughed and continued, "In fact, I think maybe I'll have me another."

Soon, Jenny was giggling at almost every word spoken, so Doc said, "I need to go ahead and examine ya'll for Rabbit Fever before we drink anymore."

"Okay, I'm ready when you are, Doc. I don't want to be hopping around with Rabbit Fever." Jenny laughed and took a large swallow of beer.

"In a minute, Jenny, I'm gonna start with Eb, first," Doc said. "Let's go to the bedroom, Eb, and get this over with."

"Shore, Doc," Eb said and led the way up stairs to the master bedroom.

Doc checked Eb's vital signs, listened to his chest, looked in his mouth, eyes and ears, checked the pulses in his arms, legs and ankles, asked questions about how he felt, then declared, "You're clear as can be, Eb, no sign of Fever at all."