by Nancy Lieder
animal. Finegan picks up his soap pile and backs away toward the bunker
entry.
49
Love at Last
The houseboat is peddling along a stretch of flooded shoreline that is
rolling, grassy hills. Flocks of sheep can be seen here and there,
grazing. Joey is at ease on the rooftop, sitting cross-legged, as few
trees seem to be in the area and the hillocks can be readily seen under
the water. On occasion he points to the right or the left, indicating
which direction Finegan should steer the boat.
On shore is what looks like a group of people wrestling with a sheep.
Two men are holding it down while a woman is sheering the wool off.
Finegan stops peddling the houseboat, letting it drift closer to shore
in the morning tide. Some in the group glance up, noticing the
houseboat, but don’t stop their task until the sheep has been sheered.
They stand up suddenly, the sheep bounding to its feet and escaping.
The group continues to stand and stare, not waving or calling, piles of
wool around their feet. Finally the woman leans over to bundle the
loose wool, tying it with a cord and slinging it over her shoulder. She
sets off up the hill.
Finegan decides he must either moor or peddle to open water and turns
the boat toward shore, a spot where the shoreline elevates quickly and
the rising tide won’t run past his grappling hooks. He comes to the
front and heaves the hooks high into some brush at the shoreline. Puts
the plank at a sharp angle so that when the houseboat rises with the
tide it will be level, and climbs up, Joey at his feet. They walk over
to the two men, still standing like statues.
Finegan offers his hand.
Finegan Fine here, trader.
The deafmute comes to life and takes Finegan’s outstretched hand,
nodding. He signs, using sign language. Finegan looks momentarily
stunned, trying to figure out how to communicate and not sure if they
understood his words. He hands Joey a stick and picks up a leaf, then
he and Joey exchange while Finegan mouths his word in an exaggerated
fashion.
Trade.
The deafmute nods and motions toward the houseboat, taking off for the
houseboat with Finegan in tow. They both clamor up the gangplank, with
the deafmute poking through Finegan’s goods. Finegan is at his elbow,
looking a tad worried as he is not sure the man understands the nature
of their business – an exchange.
50
The deafmute seizes on a folded tarp, and leaving his finger firmly on
the tarp, stands and smiles at Finegan. Using the man’s body language,
Finegan motions dramatically toward the hill where the woman carted off
the wool, and starts to step toward the gangplank, watching the
deafmute closely. Seeing that he is following him, not carting off the
tarp, Finegan is reassured and smiling, and raises his hands up
slightly, shrugging to Joey.
We’re using sign language.
______________________________
The roof of the old wool mill has been partially torn off, and the sign
likewise torn apart. The word “Deaf” can still be seen on the sign,
however. Some of the stones in the walls have been shaken loose and
dropped into the yard, while other walls look relatively intact. The
deafmute is leading them around to the side toward the mill where wool
is combed and spun and large looms are worked by foot pedals.
A woman is working a loom, weaving wool cloth. There is a price list on
the wall, listing sizes of blankets or fine woolen cloth by the yard.
This posted paper is yellowed with age. Some gardens are seen in the
distance, where men are hoeing the rows of vegetables.
The deafmute walks up to a pile of folded blankets and fine woolen
cloth in a bolt. He gestures toward these, indicating this is what they
are willing to barter. All the blankets and bolts of cloth are earth
tones, not dyed.
Finegan nods, turning toward Joey and pulling him close. He is tugging
on Joeys shirt, which has started to get tight as he is growing. His
pants likewise are tight, the waist button undone so a cord around the
waist is holding the pants up. The deafmute nods, understanding. He
motions that they should follow him into another section of the mill.
Here there is a treadle sewing machine, and flexible body models. The
models have sections that can be squeezed together to simulate a
smaller man or woman or child, or pulled apart for a fatty. Any shape
can be simulated – fat hips, big shoulders, etc. There is a model for
each sex and several for children of various ages.
The deafmute takes Joey by the hand and takes him up to one of the
models. He is using his hands to measure Joey’s body and then squeezing
or pulling apart the model sections accordingly.
51
A seamstress comes up with a tape measure and takes some measures of
Joey - across his shoulders, around his chest, from neck to waist, and
from waist to crotch. She brings up a swath of fine woolen cloth and
holds it up to Finegan and Joey for approval.
______________________________
Finegan is loading a couple tarps onto the rusty child’s wagon he uses
to cart goods. The gangplank is now level with the shore, the tide
having risen. He sets out toward the hilltop, toward the mill complex.
As Finegan is coming up over the top of the hill he pauses to catch his breath and looks out over the hills. The deafmute is coming to meet
him.
There is smoke rising from the mainland here and there. The deafmute
glances at Finegan, slicing his hand under his chin indicating much
danger there. The deafmute points at the water, then pats his hand
down, indicating the time when the water was low, then pulls his hand
under his chin again.
He motions to Finegan to follow him, and goes to a cleft in the rock
nearby, showing Finegan a hidden bunker with a metal door. The door is
in the shadows so blends in with the rock. Pulling this door open, the
deafmute steps in, Finegan following.
Finegan nods, indicating he understands what the man is saying. The
group hid here if any danger from looters was a threat. They emerge
from the bunker and return to the hilltop where they stare at the fires
on the mainland. Finegan suddenly remembers he has a pair of binoculars
at the houseboat, and raises his hand to the deafmute, pushing against
him, indicating “wait here”, then takes off running toward the
houseboat.
Moments later, Finegan is returning with the binoculars, puffing up the
hill. He holds them high so the deafmute can see what he was after.
Finegan stands at the crest of the hill, holding the binoculars to his
eyes, scanning. There are fires in the background, people dashing back
and forth, throwing rocks at each other.
Finegan hands the binoculars to the deafmute who takes a look. When the
deafmute tries to return them to Finegan he pushes his palm in the
direction of the deafmute, indicating he should keep them. The deafmute
looks at Finegan’s face for a moment, then nods and returns to using
&
nbsp; them, not arguing and accepting the gift. They need to know when danger
is approaching.
52
______________________________
Finegan has brought Joey to the fitting room of the Mill complex, where
the models and sewing machine are housed. They are standing in the
dimming light. Joey has the new pants and shirt on, and they fit
perfectly. The pants are of heavier material than the shirt, and a
lighter color of brown.
The seamstress has squatted down while she checks her work. She tugs at
the shoulder and waist, and is satisfied with the fit. She has her
yellow cloth tape measure around her neck. She rises and faces Finegan,
then pulling her tape measure from around her neck moves as though to
measure Finegan’s shoulders. Pressing against him, and taking his face
in her hands, she suddenly gives him a long, lingering kiss.
Finegan stands shock still, not expecting this. As she pulls back,
looking into his eyes, he raises an eyebrow, indicating something else
has arisen. Giving up the booze has its benefits. Then with a smile, he
folds her in his arms, leans her backwards, and gives her a long
passionate kiss.
______________________________
Joey is sitting forlornly in the door of the house on the houseboat
with Barney. Both are missing Finegan, who has not yet returned. Joey
takes the picture of his parents from his pocket and looks at it in the
dim light, then tucks the photo back into his pocket. He puts his arm
around Barney, who is leaning against him, and sighs. Finegan comes
into view in the dim light, dragging his rusty wagon.
Joey has scrambled to his feet, trying to act nonchalant by fussing
with some rope at the side, as though Finegan’s whereabouts had been
the last thing on his mind.
What did they trade for the binoculars?
Finegan replies,
Honey. Something sweeter than honey, in fact. .
. You know, as good as that seamstress is, we
should try to bring her some business now and
then. . . Not sure how to arrange that, though.
Finegan is lively and smiling. He gazes up toward the mill complex
hill, reflecting.
Maybe I’ll need a new set of clothes.
______________________________
53
Finegan and Joey have just finished breakfast and are cleaning up. They
have their backs to the hillside. Finegan tips the coals in the
portable grill overboard and they fall sizzling into the water. Joey is
bent over the other side of the houseboat, rinsing the plates and cups.
They are too busy with their tasks to notice the seamstress coming down
the hill, holding a folded woolen blanket, until her wooden shoes clop
on the gangplank.
Finegan looks up, stands, and comes to accept the blanket. The
seamstress smiles warmly and pushes the blanket into his arms, holding
her rounded fingers up over her eyes, saying “for the binoculars”. She
holds his face between her two hands and gives him a big kiss on the
mouth. She turns with a wave to Joey, and walks back up the hill.
Finegan is looking after her with a lingering, dewy-eyed gaze. Joey is
looking at Finegan with his mouth slightly open and blinking,
astonished, having never seen this side of Finegan before.
54
No Call Home
The houseboat is approaching a bend in a broad flooded river. The land
has an occasional clump of trees in a ravine, but is primarily pasture
land. Toward the top of one hill, on a slope of land, is a massive
garden, being tended. Those tending the garden are a mixture of various
races and cultures – Hispanic, Vietnamese, and Russian. Hoes are being
wielded aggressively, weeds pulled and laid down on the ground as
mulch, produce being picked and placed into baskets, and a wheelbarrow
full of compost being pushed down a row.
Finegan has pedaled the houseboat to an open spot on the shoreline,
anchored, and is walking across the gangplank with Joey at his heels.
One of the Hispanic workers nearby nods and welcomes them.
Hola.
A Russian, dressed in faded jeans and a garish shirt approaches. He
acts as the group’s interpreter as he speaks English better than some.
Hello to visitors. We here grow food and live
harmony one with other.
Some of the gardeners pause in their work to watch the exchange, while
others continue with their work.
Finegan Fine here, trader.
The Russian asks,
What you trade?
To which Finegan replies,
What you need?
______________________________
Finegan has been taken to the Russian’s sleeping quarters. This is a
shack made from pieces of broken housing – part of a roof overhead,
wallboard on one side, a tarp hanging to form another wall, and a
blanket on top of a straw bale for a bed. They are both seated on the
crude bed, Finegan inspecting radio components. The Russian complains,
I trapped here. Can no fly home. Can no call
home. I worry.
He points to the distance, where he worked as a contractor.
We work for cheap, send money home, but now I
regret.
Finegan, trying to help, asks,
Do you have a tower? Short wave is the only
thing working, and you need to be close to a
tower.
55
______________________________
Finegan and the Russia are walking along the edge of a broken blacktop
road. They pass a car parked next to a rupture in the road, where there
was no way to proceed. The road has heaved six feet into the air. The
doors of the car are hanging open, and the glove box is also hanging
open. In the distance are several buildings, some partially collapsed,
with almost all the windows broken. Pigeons have taken up residence
inside the rooms beyond the broken windows. The parking lots are
overgrown with weeds where the blacktop is cracked. The ground has
heaved and bent the chain-link fence in places, with an occasional
deserted car here and there. The place is deserted. The Russian is
gesturing in the direction of the complex they are approaching, then
puts his hand on his chest.
I chemist. On contract.
Finegan points to one of the buildings, seeing what appears to be a
tower there.
Let’s try that building.
______________________________
Finegan and the Russian are climbing stairs inside one of the
buildings. The concrete stairs are broken in places but the rebar is
holding. However, the men test the strength of the stairs now and then
before gingerly putting weight on a step, and hold onto the handrail
frequently. They arrive at the top of the last flight of stairs and
open the door to the roof. A flock of pigeons takes flight, startled.
The men walk over to the tower. The Russian has his radio in hand, and
Finegan has brought his short wave radio, which he knows to be
operational. There are tie lines from places on the tower to places on
the roof, which held during the high winds as the winds simply flowed
a
round the wires and thin tower.
Finegan drops to a squat at the base of the tower, which is enclosed in
a box. He pries open the door with a penknife and pulls out some wires,
inspecting them. He loosens some screws on the side of his radio and
attaches some wires from the tower directly to these points, then finds
the radio batteries are now dead. He looks at the radio in the
Russians’s hand, and sees it is a crank radio, generating its own
electricity.
Let’s try yours.
Finegan stands up to crank the Russian’s radio, then squats again to
connect wires. The Russian’s radio is making static noises as the dial
gets turned. Suddenly, they connect.
56
(skritch) . . meeting later . . (snap) . .
something to eat . .
Finegan presses a button to send a message.
Caruthersville, Alabama here. Can you tell me
your location?
The voice on the other end pauses, then says,
Memphis. Are you in contact with rescue
services?
Finegan responds,
No. I’ve been along the new Georgia coastline.
Florida is flooded. Atlanta is a zombie town.
Do you have international connections? Russia?
Memphis pauses, then laughts.
Are you kidding? Farthest we got was someone in
Asheville. Had them for awhile, but they were
being overrun with folks from the coast.
Flooding. Been a couple months now, no contact.
Where the heck is the national guard?
Finegan says,
I’ve seen no sight of them. Period. No
military, no guard. Everyone is on their own.
Memphis continues to press for information.
(skritch) food depot? We’re plumb out here.
Hunted out too. Some fish in the Mississippi