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A houseboat. Finegan Fine

Page 13

by Nancy Lieder


  Another man has mounted antlers of a deer that he is holding in front

  of him. He is approaching first one and then another in the crowd, but

  they turn their backs on him.

  As Finegan and Joey are leaving the business district they pass a man

  carrying a large picture frame, devoid of a picture, toward the

  pawnshop, followed by a woman carrying a large iridescent vase.

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  ______________________________

  Finegan and Joey are returning to the houseboat, moored near the

  business district of the town. They are walking up the gangplank,

  greeted by a wagging Barney. Finegan, who is first on the plank, throws

  a comment over his shoulder to Joey.

  I like our stuff better.

  Joey grins and laughs in agreement.

  98

  Slave Labor

  The houseboat is approaching a rock outcropping and water fall. Finegan

  is on the roof, with Joey peddling. The water is deep, but because of

  the rock outcropping Finegan is being cautious. Suddenly he holds his

  hand out to stop Joey.

  Whoa!

  Finegan is in shock.

  Holy shit.

  Dozens of skeletons, picked clean by fish and crabs, are under the

  clear mountain water. Some are of children. Some pieces of clothing in

  tatters are here and there still on the bodies, but mostly the

  skeletons are white and quite visible. Joey comes bounding up the boxes

  from the rear of the houseboat to see. He and Finegan stand side by

  side, in silence.

  As the houseboat is moving along the rocky shoreline, in the

  background, in the woods, we see movement, a man crouching behind a

  rock. Finegan motions silently for Joey to stop peddling and to drift,

  and to stay where he is. Having seen the bodies and seeing the man’s

  caution, Finegan speaks quietly, not knowing what might be nearby.

  Yo. Is there danger nearby? We saw those

  bodies.

  The escapee looks over his shoulder and then steps forward to the

  water’s edge.

  Can you get me outta here? I’m too old to work

  anymore, scheduled for termination. . . Please.

  They’ve got dogs, they’re gonna be tracking me.

  Having seen children’s bones, Finegan does not assume this man to be a

  criminal, and hops down to get the canoe.

  ______________________________

  The houseboat is approaching a small wooded island. It is surrounded by

  deep water, at least a mile from the rocky coastline they just left.

  The houseboat is maneuvered to a bay at the back of the island, and all

  three aboard tie the houseboat to partially submerged trees there. Now

  that they are invisible, they can talk. The escapee is eating some cold

  potatoes and fish and a tomato, with gusto. Finegan says,

  I’d cook you a proper breakfast but if they

  have dogs, that’d give us away.

  Finegan looks around him to double-check their location.

  99

  As is, they can’t sight us, and if they weren’t

  looking this way when we left, they’re

  clueless.

  Joey says,

  I was watching, and I seen no activity. I think

  we’re clean away.

  The escapee starts to cry, not sobbing but just tears running down his

  face as he stuffs the food into his mouth and chews away. Barney comes

  up and sits by his feet, looking up - an attempt to comfort the

  escapee. Finally, Finegan can wait no longer and picks up the story

  line where they presumably left off earlier.

  So these guys chasing you, they’re guards?

  Guarding what?

  The escapee looks at him incredulously, as though everyone has guards

  and should understand what he has been through.

  The workers. Wait, I though you knew. Aren’t

  you both runaways too?

  The escapee glances at Joey.

  I should’a figured. The first thing they did

  was kill the kids . . and the sick . . and the

  old . . ah, anyone over 50 is considered past

  their prime. . . threw em off a cliff to let

  them rot.

  The escapee hands his empty platter to Finegan, who is looking aghast

  at this systematic extermination. Joey has become very quiet. The

  escapee continues with his story.

  We were told to come to a military base where

  some wealthy folks had set up with supplies. It

  was like they were gonna share their supplies,

  and like the military would protect us.

  The escapee lets out a guffaw at the absurdity of his expectations,

  compared to what happened afterwards.

  Soon as the phone lines went dead and the roads

  were ripped up, things changed. . . The

  commander was in thick with them rich folks,

  always going up to their bunker and all. . .

  Next thing you know they were herding us all

  into that yard, behind barbed wire. I thought

  that was gonna be for criminals, ya know, but

  we all got sent in there. . . Then they pulls

  out those from 15 to 50 years of age, healthy

  men and women not pregnant, and we got sent to

  put up new homes for them wealthy folk.

  100

  I was a plumber, so knew a thing or two about

  putting in plumbing. . . When we came back that

  first day, everyone else was gone.

  The escapee falls silent. Finally sighs and continues.

  We learned what happened when the guards

  bragged about it. Who shot how many and all.

  They liked it, the murders.

  The escapee sits up straight, looking Finegan in the eye, as now the

  story is getting personal.

  They were drawing straws for who was gonna do

  me, last night. The long straw gets to do it.

  So, ya know, what’d I have to lose? . . I went

  over the top and ran like hell.

  Finegan asks,

  The whole base is like that? Wanting to shoot

  civilians, kids?

  The escapee realizes he has left out part of his story. He waves his

  hands in the air, as though to say “wait, wait, I missed a part”.

  Oh no, no. Most ran off to see about their

  families. Went AWOL long before the troubles

  hit. They saw what was coming. We’d see ‘em

  walking by, through the woods, every day,

  sometimes in bunches. Those that was left

  became the guards, and if they objected to the

  plan, then they got put in the work camp too. .

  . New rules. . . I think it was the plan all

  along.

  Finegan asks,

  So how many people left in that camp, and how

  many guards, you recon?

  ______________________________

  Finegan and the escapee are preparing to take the canoe to shore. The

  canoe has been loaded with a couple backpacks and the rifle. Finegan

  says,

  Joey, you know what to do. I expect I’ll be

  back in a day or so, but if five days pass and

  you ain’t seeing me, you head off back down the

  coast the way we came. Stay to deep water, and

  only at night, and keep Barney muzzled. . .

  Look up that woman taking care of the old

  folks.

  101

  And hey, they do eat rats,
and there’s nothing

  wrong with it. . . Them folks in Memphis

  weren’t too bad either.

  Joey says,

  Yes sir.

  Finegan and the escapee have pull the canoe up on shore on the rocky

  coastline. They both put on a backpack, Finegan carrying the rifle.

  They set off through the woods, picking their way carefully, the

  escapee in the lead.

  ______________________________

  Finegan and the escapee peer out from the woods at the edge of the

  internment camp. The wood frames of the new homes for the wealthy can

  be see in the background. There are no lights, but dogs are guarding

  the edges of the barbed wire internment camp, staked to the ground. Two

  guards are sitting around a fire at one corner of the yard. Finegan

  says,

  Here’s the plan. I’m setting this dynamite off

  under the guardhouse. That takes out most of

  ‘em. When that happens, those two are going to

  be looking in that direction. You shoot good?

  The escapee nods his head.

  Never missed, hunting.

  Finegan continues,

  OK. You take this rifle and shoot them dogs

  right off. Those guards ain't gonna be looking

  your way, they’re gonna be running to the

  guardhouse. If they’re looking your way, stop

  shooting, so’s they can’t place you. If it

  comes to you or them, shoot them guards too,

  because that’s what I’m gonna do. Send ‘em to

  hell. We sure can’t leave them roving loose on

  the landscape, and I ain’t inclined to run a

  prison. . . Here’s a wire cutter. When the dogs

  are dead and the guards are gone, you open that

  yard. Use these if you have to. Let everyone

  out.

  ______________________________

  The guard house explodes. Dogs are barking, rifle shots, dogs are

  yelping, then more shouting, then more shots. The work camp prisoners

  are streaming out of a cut in the barbed wire, running in all

  102

  directions. Some of the prisoners are looking over their shoulders back

  at the melee. They pause, then turn around, seeing they are not being

  chased, the dogs are dead, and the guards are all on the ground,

  wounded or dead. They call to each other and come back. The prisoners

  are now making angry murmuring noises. Finegan points to the rifle in

  the escapee’s hand.

  You keep that, you folks might need it going up

  against them.

  Finegan is now pointing to the new housing for the wealthy. He pulls

  some more dynamite out of his backpack, handing this to one of the men.

  You know how to use this?

  Another prisoner says,

  I do. Worked in demolition.

  Finegan continues his instructions.

  They got any supplies, they should be yours,

  for back pay, eh? Send them off without

  anything. No food. No weapons. That’s better’n

  they did to you. They may not have been in

  charge of this ‘er camp, but they didn’t rescue

  you either.

  More and more prisoners are coming back to the group, realizing they

  are freed and the war has been won. The escapee is crying again, tears

  running down his face, a wordless, sobless weeping. Finegan says his

  goodbye, to the escapee, and with a wave to the rest of the prison

  population.

  I gotta go talk to a boy now.

  103

  Bear Market

  Finegan is continuing to peddle along the rocky shoreline, formerly a

  mountainous area such as eastern Kentucky or West Virginia. They are

  coming closer to the heavy population centers along the East Coast. The

  houseboat is approaching a mountain top resort area. The main buildings

  have partially collapsed roofs and a wall here and there collapsed

  also. The yards and bushes have not been mowed or trimmed. Sheep can be

  seen grazing on the former golf course. The houseboat approaches a

  grassy slope of land with a winding road leading down into the water.

  Finegan is preparing to moor the houseboat there, Joey getting ready to

  sling a grappling hook.

  Finegan and Joey approach the former resort. As usual Barney waits for

  them on the houseboat, standing guard. The resport appears to be

  deserted, but then the sound of muffled voices can be heard from the

  basement area. The collapsed roof of the resort is in pieces on the

  floor of the lobby, but the floor held so the basement is intact. The

  lobby had a lofting ceiling, unstable during the quakes. Finegan and

  Joey come down some winding stairs leading from the lobby of the resort

  to a basement recreation area.

  The basement has huge wooden beams and a stone floor, pool tables and a

  bar, stuffed animal heads mounted on the walls, and over-stuffed chairs

  in the corners around coffee tables and tables with lamps. A generator

  is sitting near the bar, with some lamps moved to the bar with

  extension cords, but it has long since run out of gasoline, useless.

  A portly man, a former billionaire, is arguing with another portly man,

  their hands gesturing in the air. The second man is backing away from

  the former billionaire during this conversation. Lounging in one

  corner, on some of the over-stuffed chairs, are several young women, a

  couple decades younger than the men. The former billionaire says,

  . . Need to hire some new men . .

  Both men suddenly realize that Finegan and Joey are quietly descending

  the stairs and jerk their heads around in that direction. They stare

  silently at the newcomers, as though expecting an apology or

  explanation. The former billionaire says,

  This is a private resort.

  Finegan says,

  Finegan Fine here, trader. I come to see what

  you might need, and what you have in trade.

  The two portly men look at each other for a minute, unspoken

  communications between them. The former billionaire says,

  104

  You have food? I’m looking to get the damn

  phone connected but the batteries are dead.

  His partner motions to the quiet generator and says,

  And that thing don’t work.

  Finegan says,

  Cell phones? You need towers for those, and the

  towers are down.

  The former billionaire says,

  Oh yeah? How would you know?

  Finegan says the obvious.

  How long you been trying to raise someone? . .

  Phones don’t work no more. Short wave is the

  only thing and that’s real spotty.

  The former billionaire and his buddy don’t look surprised. The former

  billionaire reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a checkbook, and

  slaps it on the bar.

  Yeah, well, I can write you a check. Bring the

  food supplies and gas for the generator in

  here.

  He points to the middle of the floor and proceeds to fill out the

  check. Finegan says,

  Paper’s no good.

  The former billionaire flushes with anger and looks sharply over at

  Finegan, his voice rising.

  Paper? This is backed. This isn’t paper, this

  is solid, negotiable anywhere.

&nbs
p; Finegan holds his ground.

  No one deals in paper anymore. It’s no good.

  You gotta barter goods and services.

  The former billionaire throws his pen down on the bar in disgust and

  turns his back. Finally he explodes in anger.

  We need something to eat! Damit. I don’t care

  what it takes, bring some food in here and on

  the double.

  Finegan is beginning to suspect that this group had been dislodged from

  the internment camp, and has headed to the only location nearby where

  they expected to get a warm welcome as former members of the resort.

  Finegan winks covertly at Joey to clue him in.

  Don’t you garden or tend sheep or something?

  Most survivors have to do that to survive. What

  you been eating?

  Finegan is pretending to look around the rec room for evidence of

  gardening or hunting or fishing. The former billionaire says,

  105

  Not that it’s any of your business, but our

  help quit. Ran off and left us.

  Finegan motions to the several young women lounging in the corner on

  over-stuffed chairs, looking blaze. They are well dressed though some

  weed seeds are entangled in hair or on clothing, and their panty hose

  ripped and shoes muddy. Finegan says,

  Doen’t take much to seed and weed a garden.

  They break a leg or something?

  The former billionaire is twitching slightly.

  We don’t garden. The help does that.

  The former billionaire is losing his temper again, looking around and

  up at the ceiling, calling out to the general area as though expecting

  the resort staff to suddenly appear out of thin air.

  I’m a paid member. Where the hell is the help!

  Joey is trying not to smile and trying to play dumb, almost biting his

  lip at times, in on the secret. Finegan says,

  So you had a garden but left it? Just because

  the help ran off? Didn’t you treat them right?

  The former billionaire is now sounding a bit desperate.

 

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