Chapter 6
Celebrate Everything
The sweat still dripping down my brow, I stood up from under the twisty gnarled grapevines, grabbed my basket full of tiny, small but juicy dark purple grapes, and began my trek up to the barn house, about 500 ft from the hill I worked on. The sun beaming, the birds singing their hymns, the light breeze that suddenly picked up as I walked, all called me to attention.
The wind whispered to me that day; celebrate everything, sweet child. Celebrate everything Life will change as it always does, so be sure to celebrate everything.
I felt the ends of my lips curl upward ever so slightly. My eyes softened, and I took what felt like the deepest inhale I’ve ever taken. For a moment, my eyes focused on the broader picture in front of me; The barn house, the vines, the blue sky. My body feeling the soft relaxation of contentment. You are really lucky, you know. Many would kill to be here, to do this. My conscience seemed to pop her head in every so often to give her opinion; but this time I agreed with her. Surrendered to the idea that maybe my life was really incredible. Is incredible.
Maybe I would celebrate it today.
I finally arrived after my slow reverent walk to the big barn door, where the big bladder presses worked their magic to extract the juice from those luscious grapes. The wall was lined with over fifty big wooden casks, all smelling of aged wood and the sweet scent of fermentation. I made my way to the corner where the freshest cask sat, intent on celebrating.
Be sure to have clean hands when you tap the cask. Hold the bucket under the corkscrew, and hold tight. I heard my mother's careful words as she taught me how to tap the wine barrel a few weeks earlier. Hold the corkscrew tight and don’t waver. Keep the bucket still with your knee, and eventually it’ll spill out.
I grabbed the old yellow bucket that hung on the wall next to the machines, along with the big, heavy, metal corkscrew and some gloves.
I was going to celebrate, dammit. The wind told me to.
Chapter 10
MERLOT
Eyes fading back into focus, I look to the right to see Montie, eyes wide and mouth open, shaking. Concerned, I raise my hand towards them in comfort, but something cold and soft brushed my leg.
I was holding a half torn French flag, gripping it so tight with my white-knuckled fingers that my nails were curling into my skin, bloody, through the fabric. In the other hand, a corkscrew, fully open, with the sharp end angled toward Montie.
“Montie, I...” I shuddered in disbelief. What the hell was I doing...? How much time had passed?
***
“What happened? I...I didn’t do this! What happened to you? Are you okay?” I started to cry through my teeth, words sputtering out as I pushed away the memory of my mother’s accident.
I walked toward Montie, eyes wet and sobbing now, still clutching the flag and the corkscrew in my hands.
“Please, let me explain...” My voice, fully unintelligible now, sounded more like a growl than a plea. Montie, falling back on their hands and feet, began to scramble away from me, blood still spewing out of their mouth, crying loudly too.
“Please, don’t hurt me. I was just trying to tell you about my life, my mom in France.... And you went nuts!” Montie’s voice trembling now, all essence of cool and collected gone. I walked closer to them, so close that they screamed and started to curl into a ball on the floor.
See? THIS is what happens when you celebrate things. My mind snarled at me.