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.
66
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. . .
67
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 submerged 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.
69
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,