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A houseboat. Finegan Fine

Page 8

by Nancy Lieder


  though. It’s big now, stretching west as far as

  the eye can see.

  Finegan says,

  Everyone gardens, sheep and goats and the like.

  You too?

  After a pause, Memphis concurs.

  Them that can, yeah. Lot of suicides here

  lately. Peaceful. They go peaceful like.

  Finegan signs off.

  My Russian friend might connect now and then to

  chat, but I gotta go now. Maybe I’ll make my

  way up there. I run a trading houseboat. What

  side of Memphis are you on?

  Memphis laughs, and says,

  The part above water. Ah, high, the hill tops.

  Finegan signals his goodbye.

  10-4.

  Finegan turns off the radio, shaking his head in the negative, but the

  Russian already has caught the drift.

  57

  No call home. Maybe you take me home in your

  boat?

  Finegan is startled at the request.

  Oh, no, it’d never make the ocean. No can do.

  No, no, you need a bigger boat, well, you need

  a boat period. What I have is a raft! The waves

  would go over it. We’d all die.

  ______________________________

  Finegan and the Russian are returning to the camp, walking up a dirt

  path toward the shanties that the camp has assembled from junk. These

  are all people who were not welcomed at other communities, joining

  forces and helping each other. There are more men than women present,

  and every women is pregnant or with a baby in arms. Joey is playing

  with a group of Mexican and Vietnamese boys, kicking a ball around.

  The Russian points in the direction of the houseboat.

  You no have light?

  Finegan is reaching for the Russian’s radio and unscrews one side to

  inspect how the crank device works. He looks up at the Russian.

  No, but they can be rigged. You’ve got lots of

  fresh vegetables, how about a trade?

  Finegan is grinning at the Russian, as the crank motion has set him to

  thinking.

  ______________________________

  Several of the men are bringing forward car batteries and headlights

  taken from hulks nearby. These cars had been driven to the migrant camp

  when the migrants were ejected from other communities, and then parked.

  They are old trucks and battered older cars, but ran as long as the

  gasoline in their tanks lasted and where they were able to work their

  way over fields to bypass breaks in the roads. The batteries are being

  placed in a series, side by side and row after row, and wired together.

  Finegan is working with the back of an old farmstead windmill, which

  has had several of its blades repaired with pieces of wood screwed onto

  the broken blades.

  Got that alternator?

  Finegan indicates the Russian should hold the windmill in the air,

  holding it from the hub at the backside, while Finegan holds onto two

  wires coming out from the hub backside. Finegan looks up, noting there

  is no breeze at the moment, then turns the blades by hand. The two

  wires he has in his hand spark, causing Finegan to jump.

  58

  Hey! Success.

  Finegan then bends over a metal box between the battery series and

  windmill, connecting wires. He motions to one of the men, a Hispanic,

  to turn the blades of the windmill while he, Finegan, bends over with a

  flow meter to check on the batteries.

  ______________________________

  The windmill is now standing up where it can catch the breeze, on a

  narrow triangle of boards nailed with cross-struts, crude but sturdy.

  The blades are lazily turning in the evening breeze coming off the

  broad river. The series of batteries has been covered with a tarp roof,

  to keep the rain off. At the far end of the battery block is a rack of

  headlights, glowing. The migrants are all milling around, contemplating

  this new setup. Finegan is off to one side, being handed an armful of

  Bok Choy cabbage.

  ______________________________

  Finegan and Joey emerge from the darkness, coming down from the hill

  toward the houseboat, pulling the rusty wagon. Atop the hill is a blaze

  of light from several headlights, pointing in various directions. Frogs

  are thrumming along the shore. Finegan says,

  Time for a good night’s sleep . . if the

  neighbor’s lights don’t keep us up.

  59

  Shark in the Water

  A tall building, the second story sticking out of the water and topped

  by a lookout tower. The houseboat is peddling toward these buildings,

  with Joey as usual pacing on the roof, looking for underwater objects.

  Joey points to the right, directing Finegan to go right.

  Some sort of roof tops to the left, in rows.

  Finegan stops peddling to joins Joey to have a look.

  Those are barracks.

  They see the top of a barbed wire fence, where the outgoing tide is

  ruffling over the barbed wire. Finegan has just noticed this ruffling

  along the fence tops, showing the square outline of the compound.

  Oh shit.

  Finegan spins on his feet to look back where the houseboat entered the

  compound, and sees this now exposed barbed wire too.

  We’ll have to wait here until the tide rises

  again. . . I might do some diving while we

  wait, check out those barracks.

  Finegan glances in the direction of the tower.

  . . Or check out that tower.

  A guard can be seen in the shadows, seemingly wrestling with himself.

  Then it becomes apparent that he is taking off his clothes, and

  suddenly dives, nude, into the water and swims in the direction of the

  houseboat. Seeing that he is not a threat, being without a weapon,

  Finegan and Joey hop down and prepare to help him onto the deck.

  The guard is African American and very fit. He swims with a strong

  stoke to the front of the houseboat and heaves himself up, twists

  sideways to sit on the edge, and pulls his feet out of the water and to

  one side, sitting alongside the edge. Joey and Finegan move to boxes in

  front of the guard, to talk.

  Don’t want toes in the water for too long . . I

  saw a young shark in here once, the other day.

  The guard notes the fishing net hung up to dry on the line just to the

  side of where Joey and Finegan are seated and points to it.

  Shark makes good eating. Maybe we could troll

  for it! . . If he’s still in here I expect I

  stirred him up. Got any bait aboard?

  Finegan has gone into the house and returned with a pair of shorts, and

  tosses them to the guard, who rises to step into them. Finegan is

  grinning at the situation, their nude guest.

  60

  Only the three of us. But if we fish awhile we

  might catch something and then we can put blood

  in the water.

  The guard says,

  Fishing sounds good. I haven’t had anything to

  eat since the last of the dried food ran out.

  ______________________________

  Finegan is throwing the net out over the water, waiting until the open

  mouth of the net sinks, and then pulling the net along with ropes

  attached to the
four corners. One side of the net has floatation corks

  and is the side that traps fish. The other sides are being pulled up

  and toward the houseboat. Finegan pulls hand over hand along the ropes

  that close the mouth of the net, pulling the catch onto the front deck.

  Twigs, weeds, seaweed, small flopping fish, and a crab or two are among

  the catch. The guard grabs the fish and crabs and puts them in a

  bucket, brushing the trash back into the water. Finegan is curious.

  So you’re the last here?

  The guard says,

  We were told to hold our posts, so that’s what

  I did. . . Everyone else gave up and left.

  Going home, ya know. I got no home. . . Was

  foster raised and all and left that for the

  Army.

  The guard sits back, looking at Finegan, and sighs.

  We couldn’t raise anyone after it hit. You seen

  anything of a command post?

  Suddenly the net starts jerking around in Finegan’s hands, and the

  guard jumps up to help him haul it in. A small hammerhead sharp is in

  the net, attracted by all the commotion in the water. Joey brings a

  wooden bludgeon and starts whacking it in the head and the shark stops

  thrashing. Barney is going crazy with barking, remembering the day he

  lost his leg to a hammerhead shark.

  ______________________________

  The camp grill is out and slabs of shark meat are sizzling. Finegan is

  putting pieces in a pan at the side, for supper. The guard has been

  stuffing his face, famished, and delighted at the houseboat setup.

  This is great! You eat like this all the time?

  (swallow) How’d you come by this setup?

  61

  Finegan says,

  Mostly, I built it. I saw what was coming, the

  coastline eating away and all.

  Finegan is dumping the coals into the waterway and Joey is taking the

  pans and dishes to be washed at the other side. The guard raises to go

  wash his plate beside Joey.

  Can you take me to land later? I got some

  things back in the tower. I could swim it, but

  everything would get wet . .

  ______________________________

  The houseboat is pulled alongside the tower, tied to a post at the

  corner of the lookout tower. The guard is lowering bundles down to

  Finegan, who stashes them at the side. Finegan asks,

  You got any booze?

  The guard answers,

  That was the first thing that went.

  The guard heaves himself over the side of the lookout tower and drops

  down to the deck of the houseboat. Finegan has his back turned,

  stashing the last of the guard’s bundles, while the guard pulls a

  pistol out of his jacket pocket. When Finegan turns, he looks started

  and puts his hands in the air. The guard says,

  The water’s up now, we can get outta here.

  Finegan moves to the back of the houseboat and starts peddling away.

  The guard is facing him, seating on some boxes at the back. Joey is

  pacing back and forth on the roof, watching for objects under the water

  and the best spot to cross over the barbed wire fence. The barbed wire

  is just under the surface of the water now, with the tide in. Seeing

  they are leaving the compound, the guard says,

  All right! . . Boy, you come down here now

  where I can see you.

  The guard does not move from his spot, fearing Finegan more than Joey,

  and keeps his eyes on Finegan. Joey appears overhead on the roof, just

  behind the guard, with the wooden bludgeon used earlier to kill the

  shark. He clubs the guard over the head. Finegan leaps to his feet,

  rushing forward to disarm the guard.

  ______________________________

  The houseboat has moored to the shoreline, temporarily, and the guard

  is walking the plank toward shore. He is dressed, but has only a couple

  of his bundles with him. He is protesting loudly.

  62

  Look, I just wanted to be sure you weren’t goin

  to rob me or somethin.

  Suddenly some men dressed in various Army garb emerge from the bushes

  nearby. They are a mixture of African American, Hispanic, and white.

  The guard is horrified to see them. He is backing up the gangplank and

  encounters Finegan’s pistol in his back. The men in front of him are

  unarmed but seem to be bearing a grudge against the guard. Trapped, the

  guard addresses the crowd, edging forward.

  Common guys, no hard feelings, eh? You’d a done

  the same. . . What‘cha been eating? You look

  pretty fit. . . I done you a favor, actually.

  Finegan stands guard with his pistol, the only weapon in the vicinity.

  Joey dashes across the gangplank to toss the grappling hooks back on

  board, then pulls the gangplank onto the houseboat. The houseboat is

  slowly moving away from shore in the now outgoing tide. One of the

  soldiers on shore says,

  Yeah? We might eat you, ass hole. Get his gun.

  The group is frisking the guard, discovering that he is unarmed. When

  they are safely away from shore, Finegan goes to the back of the

  houseboat, tucking his pistol in his pant waist at the back, all the

  while keeping an eye on the men on shore. He back pedals to move the

  houseboat further out beyond any waves. The guard is in the middle of

  the group of men, who are pushing him around and occasionally giving

  him a punch. Finegan looks up at Joey, who is standing at his post on

  the rooftop. Finegan says,

  There was a shark in the water all right, but

  not the one we ate. . .

  63

  The Orphanage

  The houseboat is being pedaled up along a broad flooded ravine, in the

  midst of farming country, fields cleared of woods but not all fields

  planted so they have become overgrown in weeds. Trees can be seen

  lining the fields in places, or in ravines not yet flooded. One large

  field that has been planted is in Amaranth, a tall, leafy grain plant

  with plumes containing small seeds. Amaranth is known to be entirely

  edible, and is one of the rare plants that can equate to meat as it has

  lysine, a protein that meat contains. Another field nearby is planted

  in Corn, which when combined with Amaranth equal meat in protein

  nutrition.

  The houseboat stops, Finegan taking a break to view these planted

  fields, a rarity during his travels. While he watches, some small

  children emerge from among the tall Amaranth plants. They range in age

  from 2-3 years, toddlers, to pre-adolescents. Most are not dressed in

  clothing appropriate for their age. Most of the older children have

  adult shirts or t-shirt, which fall almost to their knees and are tied

  around the waist. All are barefoot. Only the younger children have

  clothing that fits, and this so well worn it is clear they are hand-me-

  downs. The children are solemn, staring at the houseboat, and not

  leaving the safety of their Amaranth forest.

  Finegan leaves his bike seat and comes to the front, standing side-by-

  side with Joey as they too solemnly view the scene before them. The

  houseboat is close to shore, next to where an idle field slopes down

  into the water. Finegan says,

&n
bsp; I’m not sure they’re used to company.

  Finegan decides to moor the boat and check out the situation, as there

  does not appear to be an adult in charge. As he slings the grappling

  hooks into the ground and slides his gangplank forward, the children

  slip back into their Amaranth forest silently, disappearing.

  ______________________________

  Finegan and Joey are walking along the edge of the Amaranth field where

  it abuts an old farmstead. The house has collapsed, and weeds and brush

  have grown up along its sides. The barn was knocked sideways by

  earthquakes but the roof is intact and has been propped up by lumber so

  it is, in essence, a lean-to. The hay in what was formerly the upper

  floor of the barn, the hayloft, is now the floor of the collapsed

  structure, and is covered in various blankets. This is where the

  children have been sleeping – out of the rain, but not out of the

  64

  chill. As Finegan and Joey approach, some small children are seen

  dashing into the collapsed barn and crawling under their blankets, or

  dashing into the woods. They are indeed shy, and not used to visitors.

  Joey glances at Finegan and says,

  I’m not the only one . . missing parents.

  A wood burning stove is in the yard, under a tree where a tarp has been

  tied to the lower branches to act as a roof. A broken picnic table is

  nearby, supported by pieces of firewood where a leg is broken. Some

  dishes are piled on the table, washed from the last meal. The sound of

  young children’s voices can be heard in the distance, unintelligible.

  An older woman with a limp appears, surrounded by a dozen children of

  various ages. They cluster around her, all talking at once, and

  gesturing toward Finegan and Joey.

  The orphan mistress has graying hair, barely pinned on top of her head

 

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