by Nancy Lieder
that they need to make their own way and not expect help. He shrugs,
acknowledging the situation. The camp mistress addresses the
passengers.
Where you from?
One of the women points out across the water toward what is now ocean
in the direction of what used to be Florida. The camp mistress is used
to traffic from Florida.
Ummm . . Well most from Florida went up to
Atlanta, but I’d not advise it.
The passengers look puzzled over this statement, so the camp mistress
explains.
Well, the riots and all. Heard about those.
Best to stay away from the cities. They got
zombies there.
As the couple turns to return to the bonfire the camp mistress looks
over her shoulder, calling back with a wave toward the bonfire.
But you can stay here.
The passengers are frozen, not sure how to proceed, so Finegan breaks
the spell by moving forward cheerfully.
Common Joey, lets see what’s to eat. Got those
peaches?
Joey has a sack of peaches and another of pecans, their contribution to
the communal supper. Joey runs ahead to give these to the camp
mistress.
The passengers trail along behind Finegan. As they arrive at the
bonfire, they are greeted by others who have been alerted by the camp
mistress. Some put their arms around shoulders to comfort. One of the
passengers breaks down and is hugged by another woman.
Finegan drifts off to the side with Joey to discuss business and see
what the group might have for barter. He puts his hand out to shake
another man’s hand. Then he grabs the hand of a smiling flirtatious
woman nearby and swings her out into the dance area in front of the
fire, stomping and swinging.
Joey continues to shake hands and introduce himself. He pulls the photo
of his parents out of his pocket and shows it around. Those who look at
the photo are shaking their heads.
______________________________
26
Barney is sleeping in the doorway of the houseboat, guarding the two
inside. An empty whiskey bottle is on the floor next to Finegan, who is
snoring.
The camp mistress is walking quietly through the dewy grass to the
waters edge, and up the plank. She has come to warn Finegan. Finegan
gets up, groggy. The camp mistress points at Joey.
Keep that youngster close now, yahear? We’ve
had reports of kids goin’ missing.
Finegan raises an eyebrow, and nods.
27
Jury of Peers
The houseboat is traveling up the middle of a broad river, thick with
trees along both banks. Dead tree branches are standing like black, wet
soldiers at arms, so thick in places no approach to shore is readily
available. Finegan has Joey at his usual post atop the roof of the
house. Finegan points ahead, along one side of the river.
What’s that up there? Looks like a shack.
Finegan slows his peddling, letting the houseboat drift. Several young
children are seen in the yard of the shack, clustered together. Finegan
sees a place where some high ground is jutting out into the river,
where one could walk ashore. He points in that direction, soundlessly,
wanting to go ashore to see if something might be amiss. Why are there
no adults around?
Finegan peddles quietly and steers with the rudder, while Joey hops to
the front of the houseboat to throw a rope over a sturdy branch. They
are downriver from the shack, and have apparently not been seen by
anyone. Holding onto a branch, Finegan swings down onto the finger of
land. He is holding onto branches as he goes along the land projection,
stepping gingerly. He makes his way to the riverbank and up along the
bank toward the shack.
Finegan walks up to a chicken-wire cage, strung from one tree to
another and nailed firmly. The only opening is at a door of the shack,
so there is no escape from the cage. The chicken wire seems to be
buried in the ground, as well as strung overhead, so climbing or
tunneling are not a ready option either. Finegan walks up to the fence,
curling his fingers through the chicken wire, tugging it slightly,
testing. It is immediately apparent that this is not a yard meant to
28
keep children at play from falling into the river. Something else is
afoot.
The half dozen children huddled in the center are young, 3 years of age
to a girl of 7 years or so. They are thin, very pale, very dirty, and
wearing tattered clothes. Because the children have fallen silent,
Finegan’s presence has been noted. The main door of the shack opens and
a hag emerges.
Hey! You looking to buy?
The hag is thin, wrinkled, toothless, and has long greasy hair hanging
straight down, some strands in front of her face. Her clothes hang on
her, as though she has lost weight. She wears bedroom slippers and
socks that are falling down around her ankles. Wanting to assess the
situation, Finegan plays along. Finegan points to the 7 year old girl,
who is standing to the rear of the clutch of children.
What’ll you take for the girl in back?
Like the others, the girl has a solemn face. The girl blinks, stares at
the ground, and is making fists with her hands as they are held at her
sides, tense and frightened.
Finegan pulls out a gold watch on a gold chain, dangling it in the air
in front of the hag, but she objects.
Food! I want food. Else some’it useful, like a
gun. Ammo. What cha got?
Finegan stuffs the gold watch back into his pocket and while pulling
his hand out of his pocket flips it back to grab his pistol, which he
has tucked into the waistband of his pants at the back. Pointing the
gun at the hag’s head, Finegan says,
I do just happen to have a gun.
The hag bolts for the door of her shack, but Finegan grabs her by the
scuff of the neck. With the pistol at the back of her neck, she has no
choice and throws her scrawny hands up in the air. Finegan says,
We’re going to let those kids out.
Finegan gives her a shove in the direction of the shack door, all the
while holding firmly to the scuff of her neck.
______________________________
The hag is on her stomach on the ground, her hands and feet tied
together behind her. The girl is looping and tying and jerking on the
piece of rope. Finegan has been holding the pistol on the woman. He
puts his gun away and tests the knots briefly, giving them a tug.
Suddenly, the girl is talkative.
She put a rag over my mouth. It smelled.
29
The girl points with a finger in the direction of the hills up above
the river, swinging her arm back and forth indicating she is not sure
where her capture took place.
I got tired and sat down for a spell.
The girl looks sad, glancing to the side at the cluster of younger
children, now out of the cage but still huddling together.
She likes the little ones. They’re easier, I
guess.
Finegan goes into the shack
and comes out with a bottle marked
Chloroform and a dirty rag. The hag is furious.
Hey! You steal my kids but don’t steal my
stuff! I gotta live.
Finegan wets the rag with the Chloroform and slaps it over the hag’s
face, holding it there. Still trying to assess the situation, Finegan
asks,
Has anyone come by?
The girl says,
Not since I’ve been here. She said if someone
didn’t come by soon, she’d have to eat one of
us.
Finegan has been looking around, and has noted a rowboat pulled up onto
shore. The boat looks sound. Finegan has formulated his plan.
Common kids, lunch time. Ever had a ripe peach?
______________________________
The rowboat is being pulling up alongside the houseboat, filled with
the rescued kids. Finegan is rowing the heavily loaded boat carefully.
Joey is reaching out to catch the rope attached to the front of the
boat, securing it to the houseboat. Then he moves along the rowboat,
pulling it close along the side of the houseboat, and holds the rear so
the rowboat is now flush alongside the houseboat. Finegan lifts the
kids out one by one, setting them on the deck.
Dole out some of them ripe peaches and set to
frying the fish from this morning. It looks
like they haven’t had a decent meal in a week.
Putting his hands back on the oars, Finegan says,
I’ve got something to tend to.
Joey nods, and goes to untie the front of the rowboat, tossing the rope
into the boat. Finegan pushes the rowboat away from the houseboat with
one of the oars and turns the boat to head back to the shack.
When Finegan returns the rowboat is filled with loot he has taken from
the hag’s shack. There is a crossbow, a hunting knife, a rifle with
30
ammo, several pots and pans, and wool blankets. He pulls up to the same
spot along the side of the houseboat. The kids are all seated in
various places around the front of the houseboat, where Joey has been
frying fish and baking potatoes. They all have a plate of sorts in
their hands, and are eating ravenously. The girl is helping dish food
out and is passing a cup of water along from one to the other. Joey
secures the boat as before, tying it at the front and then holding the
back. Finegan heaves the loot onto the deck.
One last thing.
Joey nods and again unties him. Finegan again moves back again toward
the shack.
______________________________
The houseboat is now in open water in the center of the river. They are
returning downstream, back to the group of survivors at the bonfire.
The kids are clustered together on the deck at the front, some nodding
off, some sleeping, some looking forward at the river as though in a
hypnotic state. Trailing behind Finegan is the rowboat with the hag on
her knees in the bottom. She is complaining loudly.
You let me loose! That’s my stuff, damit.
Finegan has a smile on his face, ignoring her.
______________________________
Toward evening the houseboat is approaching the shore where the bonfire
party was held just the night before. Those on shore can see the front
of the houseboat, which leads during the pedaling process, and can see
a pile of youngsters now almost all asleep. One of the young kids jumps
up, recognizing his mother on shore.
Mama! Mama!
The group on shore is gathering, more and more campers coming from the
woods or from temporary shelters thrown together and rushing to the
shoreline. As the houseboat slows and Finegan leaves the pedals to moor
with the grappling hooks, some in the crowd wade into the water, not
waiting. The kids are coming forward to stand on the edge of the
houseboat front, some reaching their arms out. Finegan throws his hands
up, smiling, and arranges to work with a couple men coming to help,
handing them each a grappling hook, which is walked, rather than
thrown, onto shore.
______________________________
31
That night, the hag has been tied to a chair, seated near the bonfire
where her features can be seen. There are boxes and various chairs
lined up to one side, where the jury has been assembled. Six men and
six women are seated, listening. The camp mistress is bringing the girl
to the other side, where her features can be seen by the jury in the
firelight. The girl will testify as to her experience, and what she
observed at the shack. The girl points at the hag.
Smelly rag over my mouth and held me down.
The hag of course is objecting.
She’s a lying. I found them lost and brought
’em home.
In the shadows on the edge of the court scene, the parents can hardly
keep silent.
Burn her, burn her alive! Why are we having
this stupid trial, it’s obvious.
Someone walks up to Finegan and hands him a bottle.
You’ve earned this, I recon.
Finegan takes the bottle, taking a swig. He points with his bottle
hand.
Now what? I half expect them to toss her into
the fire.
______________________________
Later that night, the hag, her hands still tied, is being muscled to
the rowboat on the edge of the shore. She is resisting, being pushed
and carried between two men when she tries to dig her feet into the
soft earth along the shore.
Can’t do this. Those kids lied. This is murder
I tell ya.
Almost covered by the people who have muscled her to the rowboat, she
is lifted and set into the center of the boat, and then tied down by
numerous ropes – feet, knees, and elbows tied to the boat in some
manner or another. The rowboat, without oars, is pushed away from shore
and into the receding tide and the outflow from the river.
Exile at sea, to starve to death in the same manner she was starving
the kids. The boat drifts from shore and into the night, the hag’s
cries becoming distant and barely audible.
32
Industrial Revolution
Finegan is sorting through various small mechanical parts stored inside
the house of the houseboat. He is pulling boxes out, checking the
contents, pouring some out on a table in the center of the thoroughly
cluttered house, and labeling other boxes. He is sorting stuff on the
table into small boxes and labeling these. The overall approach is to
move what he has sorted and labeled into one cleared corner of the
house - taking a total inventory so to speak. Finegan says,
I forget what all I have, ya know?
Joey is being a loyal assistant, taking labeled boxes away and bringing
others closer to Finegan who is seated on a stool during this process.
Every once in awhile Joey finds something totally inappropriate, like a
dirty shirt, and holds it up for Finegan to pass judgement. Finegan
shrugs and says,
I dunno. . . Put it on the laundry pile, I
guess.
Finegan sighs, and looks up at Joey.
I suppose that’s another thing we should be
doing.
He returns to his work, pulling things out of a box Joey has dragged to
his feet.
______________________________
The houseboat is moving along the outer edges of a flooded subdivision,
some rooftops seen sticking out of the water and some just under the
water. Finegan is keeping a distance away, as the slope appears to be
shallow. He is sticking to deep water. Finegan points to the flooded
rooftops.
The last thing we need is to be stuck on one of
those. I don’t fancy trying to lift this boat
offn’ one of ‘em.
Finegan flashes a smile at Joey, who is looking worried.
Well, we could always wait a day or two until
the water rises.
Then, muttering under this breath.
Just keeps rising. . .
A thin trace of smoke is rising from a ravine, indicating a campfire.
Some women are running from the open grassy area behind the subdivision
into the woods around the ravine. Finegan is not attempting to steer
the houseboat to any shoreline near them. He sees an unspoken question
33
in Joey’s eyes, as Joey keeps looking at the scampering women, then
back to Finegan’s face. Finegan says.
They’re not ready yet. Too early. They’re
living off what they pulled from these houses
and . . well . . ah . .
Finegan is struggling for a way to explain to Joey the nature of
business and self-survival. After the rescues he’s seen recently, Joey
has come to think of their role as some kind of emergency services. But
some survivors need to run through their supplies and feel a pinch of
some sort before they are ready to barter on a fair basis. This Finegan
has learned. Finegan’s face brightens, as he has arrived at an
explanation.
They’re expectations would be too high.
______________________________