A houseboat. Finegan Fine

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A houseboat. Finegan Fine Page 15

by Nancy Lieder


  Joey looks up at Finegan and nods. The shoeman notes their interest and

  comes up.

  There’s some nice boots you got on. Quality.

  Make you a trade for some these others here.

  The boots he is motioning to are not the same quality as the pair Joey

  wears. They are scuffed, have less tread, and have clearly seen more

  wear and tear. Joey is laying them alongside the boots he has on,

  measuring the size in this way. Joey sits on the chair the shoeman

  offers his clients and pulls off one of his boots, trying on the larger

  boot. He stomps on his foot and looks up at Finegan, smiling.

  On the perimeter of the flea market is a barbeque pit, which is

  smoking, the coals glowing, but the meat to be cooked is missing. A

  horse drawn wagon is approaching this spot, loaded with a large dead

  pig and cages holding young piglets. The dead pig has tusks, was a

  feral pig, and is covered with coarse hair rather than the soft pink

  skin of domestic pigs. It has been gutted and is ready to cook. Two men

  riding on the back of the wagon hop off and pick up the ends of the

  barbeque spit which has been driven through the dead pig from one end

  to the other. They heave the pig into the air and carry it over to the

  barbeque pit, placing it on the Y stands at either end of the pit. Now

  that the meat has been placed above the fire, they complete the

  skinning process, pulling the skin up over the pig’s head and over the

  tusks, which are attached to the head bones and resist breaking off.

  The wagon master is a young girl about 11 years of age. She is

  barefoot, wears bib jeans with a t-shirt underneath, and has her hair

  in braids on either side. She secures the reins and hops off the wagon

  seat, pulling a board nailed onto a stake from the wagon bed. On the

  board, in red paint, are the words “Wild Piglets”. She walks over to a

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  clear area near the barbeque pit, reserved for her display, and hammers

  the stake into the ground there, tossing the hammer into her wagon.

  One of her two men picks up a covered bucket of barbeque sauce from the

  wagon bed and returns to baste the now roasting pig. The other comes to

  help the girl unload the piglets in cages. The piglets are young, only

  about a foot long, and protesting, squealing. After they offload the

  piglet cages, she immediately turns on her heel and comes over to the

  shoeman, who says,

  Howdy Matilda.

  Matilda says,

  They ate another pair.

  The shoeman smiles and says,

  You gotta stop kicking at them beasts.

  Matilda walks into the shoe display area, scanning quickly, and leans

  over to pick up the pair of boots just added, the ones Joey had been

  wearing. She says,

  Don’t remember you having these.

  Matilda sits on the chair provided by the shoeman for clients and slips

  her bare foot into one of the boots, standing to measure the fit when

  her weight is pressing down. She smiles and glances up at the shoeman,

  who says,

  Consider it a donation to the campaign.

  Matilda protests.

  It’d only set them that can’t donate to

  worrying. Favors and all . . You take one a

  them squealers. I’ll tell John. . . Not that I

  don’t appreciate the thought, Clem.

  Joey is trying to get into the conversation as he meets few children

  his age. He points at her new boots.

  Those were my boots.

  Matilda drops her gaze briefly at the set Joey is wearing, quickly

  understanding that a trade had occurred, and just as quickly changing

  the subject. She asks,

  You folks new in the area? Pleased to meet you.

  Stay for the barbeque!

  Matilda extends her hand first to Joey and then quickly to a surprised

  Finegan, who is not expecting this from a girl.

  ______________________________

  Finegan is returning from the houseboat with a hammer and small box of

  nails in his hands as he has found a saw he wants and has worked out a

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  trade with the owner. He strides up to the hand tool display area and

  extends his offering in front of him.

  These.

  He places them into the toolman’s hands and points to the saw.

  For that.

  Joey is wandering after Matilda, fascinated by her confidence and

  social skills. Matilda is working the crowd, on occasion offering her

  hand for a shake, on occasion placing her hand on someone’s arm, but

  never lingering for more than a minute in any location. She comes up to

  a woman who looks like she is about to cry, talking to a man getting

  red in the face. The woman says,

  But you owe me a hen. You promised. We ain’t

  had meat ta home for a month.

  The man is fuming.

  They’re all sitting eggs, I tell you. Cain’t

  you wait a couple weeks?

  Matilda is looking from one to the other, saying nothing. Finally, she

  sees a break in the argument and says to the woman,

  How big did you say that old coop you got on

  your place is?

  The man and woman stare at each other for a moment, suddenly realizing

  a solution. Both talking at once almost on top of each other. He says,

  You got a coop? I’m outta space and with the

  new’uns coming. . . Ya know, chicks take to a

  new coop like its home after a day er so. . .

  They free range, just let ‘em out in the

  morning and call ‘em back at night.

  She says,

  Big as the house, but the hen’s er all gone now

  since Earl passed. He did the chickens en all.

  . . We got no feed, used corn during Earl’s

  day.

  Matilda is walking away, smiling to herself. Finegan is again standing

  in amazement that a young girl is apparently in the running in a

  campaign, and taken seriously. He says, under his breath,

  But she’s a girl!

  The toolman looks up, surprised at Finegan’s reaction,

  Matilda? She’s the only one gets folks to work

  together. You otta see ‘er move a crowd from

  somethin plain stupid to summit that’ll work.

  My Mary says she’s the jell that makes the

  jelly set.

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  He glances over and sees that Finegan is still agape with shock.

  Put a bag over your head then so’s you don’t

  notice that she’s a girl, and a young’un at

  that. . . We got too many a problem to be stuck

  in the old ways.

  ______________________________

  The crowd of about 100 people is coming up to the barbeque to be

  served. Each has a plate in hand, with some sliced tomatoes and a piece

  of homemade bread, ready for a slab of barbecued pig. One of the men

  who arrived with Matilda is slicing pork on a board next to the

  roasting pig, which is now missing parts of its belly and hindquarters.

  A semi-circle of various chairs or overturned boxes has been assembled

  at the side of the barbeque, with the wagon Matilda brought stationed

  in the center of the semi-circle as a platform.

  A man with a clipboard is wandering through the crowd, checking off

  names
and handing out small paper ballots. The official approaches

  Finegan and Joey, who are in line for barbeque. He scans his list, then

  looks up at Finegan.

  New to the area? Where you staying?

  Finegan points over the hill and says,

  We’re just passing through. On that houseboat

  over yonder.

  Joey asks,

  Does that mean we can’t get something to eat?

  The official smiles and winks at Joey.

  I recon you’re future voters, if you decide to

  stay, and that there is for everyone. That’s

  Matilda’s stand. Them that has plenty, shares.

  Helping hand and all.

  The official wanders off down the line. Joey looks up at Finegan.

  One guess who he’s gonna vote for.

  ______________________________

  A tall, muscular man is standing on the wagon addressing the crowd. He

  is wearing suit pants and a vest, with a long sleeved white shirt on

  under the vest, rolled up at the sleeves. He is wearing a tie, but this

  has been loosened at the neck, his shirt collar open a bit as the day

  has gotten warm. He is showing a 5 o’clock shadow. From a distance one

  can hear his pitch.

  . . build roads . .

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  The crowd seems lukewarm, only a half dozen furiously applauding. The

  first candidate nods and takes a slight bow, and then steps off the

  wagon.

  The second candidate is a stocky woman in a voluminous dress. Her hair

  has been piled on top of her head and she is bedecked with costume

  jewelry. Rings are stuffed over her plump fingers. She is helped up

  onto the wagon by a couple backers who stand under her ample buttocks

  as she heaves herself up the step. She straightens up and clears her

  throat.

  The rule of law must be our first concern.

  There are simply no guidelines. I’ve taken the

  initiative of drawing up statutes that give

  clear guidelines.

  A handful of people in the crowd stomp their feet and whistle loudly at

  this point, as she unfurls a roll of paper she has brought with her and

  proceeds to read off her proposed statues.

  Finegan and Joey are sitting side by side in the back of the crowd.

  Finegan is still trying to get his head around the idea that a little

  girl could be in the competition.

  Her father ran a pig farm, and they all escaped

  when the troubles hit. Ran off into the swamp.

  . . Well they go wild after a time. But she got

  ‘em back, is breeding ‘em tame again. . . OK,

  so she’s got guts, I’ll give her that. . .

  Finegan is shaking his head, muttering to himself. Joey says,

  I watched her. . . It’s not what she says. It’s

  what she gets other people to do. . . I dunno.

  . . I dunno, but they’re fretting and fussing.

  Then comes Matilda. Then when she leaves

  they’re set to go off to do somethin. But I

  never hear her tell them what to do. . . She

  points to this or that one and asks a question.

  That’s it. . . Huh.

  Now Matilda is jumping up on the wagon, to thunderous applause.

  Clem says I’m the jell in the jello, and my dad

  always said I brung his mind to a focus, but to

  my way of thinking it ain’t me. It’s you. It’s

  you come up with what to do, and it’s you who

  do it. But we rounded up the pigs now and I’ve

  got more time. If this is what you want me to

  do, then I’m happy to help.

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  With that, Matilda hops off the wagon and continues to work the crowd

  on the edge of the seating area. Finegan is still dumbfounded.

  Huh.

  ______________________________

  Finegan and Joey are walking up over the hill between the flea market

  and the houseboat, going home. They are silhouetted against the setting

  sun. Sounds of cheering and whooping are in the background. Matilda is

  being carried about on the shoulders of her backers, clearly having

  won. Finegan and Joey look back over their shoulders at the uproar,

  turning around to look back on the flea market for a moment. Finegan is

  shaking his head.

  I still can’t figure it . .

  Joey is still trying to explain what he observed when Finegan was off

  trading and he was trailing along behind Matilda. He puts both hands

  first on one side and then the other, trying to indicate first

  confusion and then resolve.

  You should’a seed her. First folks were looking

  worried. One lady looked like she was gonna

  cry. Some guy red in the face. Then Matilda’d

  come up and ask a bunch of questions. Then

  everyone’d be smiling and Matilda’d walk away.

  Joey looks up at Finegan to see if he’d gotten his point across.

  I swear.

  Finegan is pondering, but finally says,

  . . or it’s the barbeque.

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  Canibals

  The tide is coming in, waves slapping against the shore. Finegan and

  Joey are pulling in the fishing net and sorting out the catch, putting

  flapping fish and snapping crabs into a bucket and sweeping any twigs,

  seaweed, or coke cans that got swept up into the net back into the

  water. Gradually the incoming tide starts carrying more and more

  floating debris. A partially empty soda bottle, tightly capped, comes

  by. Splintered boards, a woven sewing basket, a child’s rag doll with a

  smiling face, and finally a bloated dead body. The body has been

  partially eaten by fish, but the belly, covered by shirt and pants, is

  still intact and full of bloat. Finegan says,

  I think I just lost my appetite.

  ______________________________

  Finegan is at the rear of the houseboat, peddling to get some distance

  from shore. Joey, who is sitting on a box at the rear, is looking back

  toward shore. Joey says,

  I think we’re clear. . . Was that gross or

  what.

  Finegan rolls off his bike seat and climbs up onto the houseboat roof

  to get some perspective, shielding his eyes with his hand. He looks

  back toward shore at first, then turns to look out toward deep water.

  Oh Lord. . . Gets worse.

  Joey jumps up to join Finegan, to see what he is looking at. They both

  stand side-by-side, hands shielding their eyes.

  In the distance is a conglomeration of rafts, made from pastel

  insulation boards, pink and baby blue. The raft city seems to almost

  fill the horizon, spreading from one side to the next, and is floating

  closer to them on the incoming tide. Some of the rafts have soggy

  cardboard boxes on them, half melted flat by repeated rainstorms. Some

  items of clothing are thrown on the insulation boards here and there,

  as though someone stripped and didn’t bother to pick up afterwards. An

  empty pie tin, partially filled with rainwater, stands on one raft, the

  sole item that raft contains.

  Except for items of clothing, the rafts seem empty, and devoid of

  people. The rafts are looped together by construction netting used to

  keep the public from construction sites. This netting holds a half

  dozen insulation rafts together in a neat rectangle, w
ith each

  rectangle then tied to the others with rope. The raft city was

  constructed, in desperation, as flood waters were overtaking an island.

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  One of the rafts has a sign laid flat, which says “Ellis Construction”

  in red lettering against a white background. What looks like rusty

  reddish/brown paint smears are amid the red lettering and on the pastel

  pink of the insulation board raft. An open pocketknife is laid on the

  construction sign.

  One of the soggy cardboard boxes begins to bump around, and a leg

  sticks out. The foot is bare, no shoes, and the pants frayed and

  tattered. The box bumps around some more and the cannibal’s head comes

  out over the leg and knee, hands to his head, rubbing his eyes. His

  hair is long, down to his shoulders. A young man, he is thin and

  without a shirt over his tan shoulders and hairless chest. The cannibal

  is not making any attempt to get up, as there is no activity that would

  be fruitful. He is adrift without oars. He has no expression on his

  face, no motive, and no agenda.

  Finegan and Joey are standing, silently staring in his direction.

  Seems to be someone there.

  Finegan turns to return to his bike seat and pedal closer.

  ______________________________

  The houseboat is approaching the side of the raft city where the

  construction sign is located. The cannibal has now noticed the

  approaching houseboat and is moving from raft to raft. He is springing

  with a jump from the edge of one raft into the center of another, then

  gaining his balance, and then repeating this process. The rafts sway

  back and forth during this process, a bit of water temporarily

  splashing over the side used as the jump-off.

  The cannibal speaks in a husky voice, as though his throat is dry.

  Boy am I glad to see you! Been too far from

  shore to swim. We’d seen sharks. Can you give

 

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