A houseboat. Finegan Fine
Page 9
in a bun. Her dress is tattered and hanging on her body as though at
one time she were somewhat overweight. She looks immensely weary, and
walks as though she might not make the next step. She stops to take her
breath and looks up at the visitors. Seeing them non-threatening, she
raises a hand weakly, as though saying a “hello”, and then walks
forward toward the dining area. She takes a seat on the picnic table,
sighing as though relieved to be off her feet. Taking a deep breath to
gain her strength, she lifts her face to smile at the visitors and
waves them forward to join her. She directs her charges.
Stir that fire and put on a pot. We’ll serve
some tea.
Finegan introduces himself.
Morning mam. Finegan Fine here and my partner
Joey. I’m a trader, moving up and down these
parts. Got my houseboat out there at the end of
your field. Pretty impressive plots you have
there. You plant and harvest that all by
yourself?
The orphan mistress smiles and winks at the absurdity of this idea.
Fortunately, I’ve got plenty of help.
She leans back, having caught her breath, and continues to direct her
young charges.
Honey, use that other pot. It has a spout.
That’s it.
Finegan says,
These aren’t all yours . .
The startles orphan mistress responds,
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Oh Heaven’s no. I’d surely be in the ground if
that was the case! Picked them up in Montgomery
when the troubles hit. I was down there
visiting, checking on some friends of mine that
can’t move around so good no more. After I
buried them . . heart attack and such . . I was
heading back home and found these kids just
lost. . . Been weeks, and no one came to
collect them. . . Well, what could I do? . . We
came home together. Been a blessing, these
darlin’s have been. A blessing.
Finegan’s mouth drops open at this unexpected description of a dozen or
more orphans, some obviously only toddlers when she collected them,
being described by this exhausted woman as a “blessing”. He catches
himself as he realizes they are watching his reactions.
Oh, indeed. My Joey here’s the same. Got
separated from his parents and we joined up.
He’s a blessing, no doubt about it.
The older children are arranging the cups and spooning some sort of tea
from a tin into each cup, then pouring hot water from a pot of water
taken from the stove. They bring the first cup to Finegan. Finegan
says,
Oh, no, give the first cup to, ah, your
mistress here. . .
The orphan mistress smiles at his chivalry, and accept the cup, sipping
from it with half closed eyes as though it were something magical, a
source of rejuvenation. Finegan accepts the next cup.
I can’t help but wonder at your fields. I been
up and down this coast. Found some folks that
planted pumpkin, but most do vegetable gardens
in rows, and they work at that day and night.
You’ve got fields . .
The orphan mistress looks up from her cup of tea, suddenly realizing
what he’s missing from the picture.
I been at this business for some years. Planted
corn and amaranth, being vegetarian and all.
Don’t need meat if you got those. Made a mix
for the local organic outlets. Amaranth greens
are a good salad too. Made my living at that.
No need to plow if you keep the weeds down
regular. Just re-seed.
The orphan mistress waves in the direction of the wall of young
children clustered behind her, each clutching a cup of tea.
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These are the best little weed pickers I ever
seen. You pull a weed up, the grubs and beetles
fall out, and the chickens clean them up. You
go down the rows and knock the bugs off the
plants, and the chickens foller along and clean
them up. What’s left is our produce, bug free.
. . and eggs. We got lots of eggs.
There are some chickens at the side of the old house, scratching and
pecking at the dirt. One hen has a cluster of young chicks around her.
Suddenly Joey is interested.
And chicken noodle soup, right?
The orphan mistress looks aghast.
Oh, we don’t eat anything that had a face! . .
They get picked off often enough. They’re prey
to many a creature. . . But we eat the eggs.
Finegans asks,
Is there anything you need?
The orphan mistress responds.
I got no money . .
Finegans clarifies his offer.
I’m looking to help here. Anything you need?
______________________________
Finegan is approaching the barn lean-to, the sleeping quarters for the
kids, pulling the rusty wagon behind him. Joey is behind the wagon,
keeping a hand on the top of the pile of blankets, to keep it from
tipping over. The woolen blanket given to him by the seamstress is on
top of the pile.
The orphan mistress is tucking the kids into bed. They lay one beside
the other, side-by-side to share body heat during the night, as there
are few covers and not enough to go around. Small children are between
older children, so the older children can raise their knees up, lying
on their sides, if they wish. After they are stacked into place the
orphan mistress throws one of her few blankets over them, tucking in
the edges. The orphan mistress has suddenly noticed Finegan’s approach.
Well lord sake. . .
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The rest of the children lay down on the straw while the orphan
mistress wafts the now ample blanket supply over them. There is one
blanket left. Finegan, smiling, hands it to her.
And one for the mistress!
______________________________
Finegan and Joey are arriving back at their houseboat, at sundown,
pulling the now empty creaking wagon behind them. Before they cross the
gangplank, Joey throws his arms around Finegan’s waist. Joey has a wet
face, and takes one of his hands to wipe tears from his eyes. Finegan,
wordless, grips Joey’s shoulder with a one-handed hug, looking a little
teary himself.
68
Continuity of Government
The houseboat is approaching a series of islands, a flooded city.
Buildings and streets are on the islands, with the approach to any of
the islands blocked by flooded buildings, which can be seen under the
water. The scene looks almost magical from a distance. Some tall
buildings stick up out of the water despite their foundations being
flooded. In the distance are suburban islands, with only the occasional
house above water. All the buildings have been damaged by earthquake
and high winds, though some walls of the metal framed high rises are
intact. Most of the buildings are sloping in one direction or another,
the result of a collapse. There is no sign of life anywhere.
Joey is pacing back and forth on the roof of the house, pointing now
and then to warn Finegan of a su
bmerged danger. Barney is at the alert
at the front of the houseboat, tail up and tense, sensing the tension
in his crewmates. They hear a shotgun blast. Finegan and Joey dash into
the house and peek out the doorway, Barney in hand beneath them.
Finegan says,
I didn’t see where it came from, did you?
Joey points and says,
Close to shore somewhere, over there.
Finegan says,
Full moon out again tonight too. . . Gonna be
hard to make a getaway.
Finegan is looking concerned, frowning and blinking, processing and
rejecting multiple getaway plans.
Worst case, we may have to slip into the water
at night and go find whoever is doing this. . .
I don’t think we can go underwater and pull the
boat to safety. . . Might . . But those are our
two options, I think.
A rowboat is seen approaching with two men, one rowing, one with a
shotgun across his knees. Neither wears a hat, but both have long
sleeve shirts on with a band of red cloth tied around their upper right
arms. The rowboat pulls up to the houseboat, the man rowing attempting
to latch a rope around one of the posts on the houseboat corners. The
sentry has his rifle pointed toward the door of the houseboat, where
Finegan and Joey were last seen.
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But Finegan has moved behind some boxes near the front of the
houseboat. Finegan has his rifle resting on a box, pointing at the
guard.
You’re not boarding, and you’re not leaving
either. Toss that rifle into the water. . .
Now!
The sentry hesitates, and is fondling his gun like he is debating his
options. Finegan shoots into the water near them, showing them he too
is armed. The sentry says,
Look, I’ll put it down. If I lose this there’ll
be hell to pay.
The Sentry puts his rifle down on the floor of the rowboat. Both men in
the rowboat are now standing, hands up. Finegan says,
You shot at us!
The sentry replies,
Well you just shot at us!
To which Finegan asserts,
Well, you shot first!
But the sentry protests,
That was a warning shot!
But Finegan counters once again,
So was mine!
Finegan is grumbling under his breath, not wanting to create alienation
but not wanting to be taken advantage of.
Arrrrhh.
Joey is positioned on the other side of the houseboat, also behind some
boxes, with the pistol aimed at the pair in the rowboat. Finegan says,
OK, both you men step onto the deck but move no
further.
The men finish tying the rope around the corner post and pull the
rowboat close, putting one leg each onto the deck and heaving up.
Finegans directs,
You, oarsman, take that tie off your arm and
tie your partner’s hands behind him.
Both men from the rowboat look at each other hesitantly. Then the
sentry shrugs and puts his hands behind his back to be tied. Finegan
says,
OK, both you men sit down on the deck and face
out toward the water. And you, oarsman, put
your hands behind your back. . . Joey, check
the tie on the first man and tie the second.
Tie ‘em tight.
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As Joey is coming forward with some pieces of rope in his hands,
Finegan steps out from behind the boxes, to be close at hand in case a
scuffle results. The sentry says,
Can we come with you? If I go back with you
holding the gun, there’ll be hell to pay.
Finegan asks,
From who?
And the sentry responds,
President Collins.
______________________________
Both prisoners are now seated on the floor of the house. Their feet are
now tied together as well. Joey is perched on top of some boxes, his
feet under him and in a crouch, holding his pistol loosely in his hand,
dropped wrist, pointing the gun downward. He is at ease. Barney is
tense, sensing the tension in the air, and growling now and then,
circling the seated men on stiff legs, sniffing them. Finegan is seated
on a stool by the table where he has rested his rifle and the rifle
retrieved from the rowboat.
Now explain . . President Collins.
Both the sentry and the oarsman start talking at once. The sentry says,
Former Senator from our parts, Mississippi, but
when it hit and he figured every place else was
wiped out, he said he had to be the new
president, considering the US government had to
be represented and all . .
While the oarsman says,
The guy’s nuts, I think. Holds these cabinet
meetings with his family and claims he has
executive authority because we must be at war
or something. Commandeered all the supplies in
the area too . .
They both stop and look at each other, then both start talking again,
each expecting the other to shut up. The sentry says,
No radio response so everyone else must be dead
While the oarsman says,
Now he’s starting to raid the neighbors . .
They both stop and look at each other again, then at Finegan, falling
silent. Finegan says,
Well, I’m taking you up along the shore a ways,
if its safe, and dropping you off. I’m a trader
but this is no place . . I’d be trading my
freedom . .
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Finegan looks at Joey.
You stand guard here so’s they don’t move.
Finegan motions out toward the front of the boat, pointing toward the
island city.
Any more like you, snipers?
The sentry says,
This was my post. The rest are inland with
President Collins on raids.
______________________________
Finegan has moored the houseboat at an open spot along the shoreline,
gangplank in place. He is marching the men across the plank ahead of
him. He has untied their feet but their hands are still tied. Joey is
on the roof, standing guard with the pistol in one of his hands,
pointing down at his side. There hear shouting and argument from over
the hill. The sentry and oarsman turn and try to bolt back onto the
houseboat, but Finegan, who is still carrying the rifle, blocks their
way with the rifle across his chest like a board.
I have a better idea. Get up behind those
bushes over there.
Finegan motions for Joey to duck into the house and follows the men
into the bushes. The three men are peeking out of the bushes.
What is that, a raid?
Both the sentry and oarsman start talking at once, again. The sentry
says,
Senator Collins goes out with them, ‘cause
they’d know his face and all . .
And the oarsman says,
They call it taxes, like money ain’t no good no
more so it’s gotta be food.
Both men stop and look at each other again, falling silent. Finally
Finegan says,
I got the picture. So you want out of this, eh?
What do yo
u propose we do with Mr. Collins?
The two prisoners look at each other, then back at Finegan.
______________________________
Finegan has untied his two prisoners and armed the sentry with his
rifle, now trusting them. The oarsman holds a club. Finegan
nevertheless stays behind his two prisoners, just in case they get a
sudden change of heart. They are creeping along the bushes, out of
sight, toward the arguments.
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What they see is a confrontation between Collins and a local survival
community. Collins is pot bellied and short, somewhat red in the face
and balding. He is standing with two other men who have guns. All three
of them have red cloth tied around their upper right arms, their
insignia. Finegan asks,
You know those men?
The sentry and oarsman look at each other, not wanting to speak at the
same time. The oarsman says,
You first.
The sentry says,
They only act loyal. Everyone is afraid to
stand up to Mr. Collins. Everyone is afraid of
being first, ya know, and thrown in the brig.
Finegans says,
Well, you’re going to be first.
The sentry gulps, then takes a deep breath, cups his hands around his
mouth and yells.
Collins! You’re not in charge anymore! No more
robbing people. You’re a fraud! You’re not the
government, never were!
The sentry is finally venting. Finegan and the oarsman look at him, a
little aghast, their mouths open.
You’re not in power, ass hole! You fat pig! Who
put you in charge, eh? You did. And you don’t
get to say, you piece of crap.
Finegan puts his hand over the man’s mouth, seeing that the rant will
never stop. Finegan says,
Tell him you’re disarming his guards and that
they should give up. They’re facing an armed
rebellion. Tell him that.
The sentry is breathing hard, but is trying to calm himself.
Here’s the deal, you piece of shit. We’re an
armed rebellion. Lay down on the ground and eat