speed as it moves toward the shoreline.
14
______________________________
The rowboat has been outfitted with a single sail, the supports nailed
to the side of the rowboat with bracing at the bottom of the rowboat.
The sail can swing from side to side to catch the breeze.
As Finegan and Joey stand on the deck of the houseboat, waving goodby,
the new sail has billowed out in the evening breeze, and the rowboat is
picking up speed as it moves toward the shoreline.
______________________________
Later that evening there are several popping noises on the shore, with
lights that look like firecrackers briefly going off. These are not
firecrackers, but gunshots. Finegan comes out to stand next to Joey and
Barney, who have been sleeping on the deck. Finegan places his hand on
Joey’s shoulder, shaking it gently, to waken him.
Grab Barney and hold his mutt shut. There’s
trouble.
Joey wraps both legs around Barney, holding his mouth shut with one
hand, while Barney looks up at Joey, his eyes big but trusting.
______________________________
When Finegan has put some distance between the houseboat and the
shoreline, he steps through the clutter, coming forward to see about
breakfast. Joey is still seated with Barney, but no longer holding him
so he can’t bark, the danger being past. But just as they are about to
relax, Finegan freezes, looking off into the open water.
Finegan points to a small yacht, seemingly adrift, not anchored. The
houseboat is slowly drifting toward the yacht, due to momentum from the
trip into open water. Finegan steps back and ducks into the house. He
pulls a pistol out of a drawer and stuffs it into the back of his pants
at the waistline.
Stepping back onto the deck to stand behind Joey and Barney, Finegan
places his hand on Joey’s shoulder.
Somethin’ doesn’t smell right about this.
As the houseboat drifts up to almost touch the side of the yacht, a man
stumbles out of the cabin, whiskey bottle in hand, staggering slightly.
He is wearing a sweaty white t-shirt and blue casual pants. Two women
emerge behind him, still in nightgowns. Finegan introduces himself.
15
Ahoy! Finegan Fine here, trader.
The yachtsman says,
We’re looking for food, fresh food. Sent a man
over to the mainland last night to look for
some and ain’t seen him since.
Finegan asks,
At night?
Aggravated at having been challenged, as it is obvious they didn’t
intend any but theft of someone else’s food cache, the yachtsman
replies,
Aaaaahhh. We didn’t want any trouble, ya know?
The yachtsman loses his balance and falls against the cabin, bouncing
back out onto the railing, which he grabs to right himself.
You got any food?
Finegan is playing along.
Plenty. Potatoes, onions, some cabbage, and
fish fresh from last night.
Finegan glances at the rear of the yacht, which doesn’t seem to have
any fishing apparatus. It’s a pleasure craft, not for fishing.
You don’t fish?
The yachtsman is surly.
We had supplies.
Where he bends over backwards for good folk, Finegan has a distinct
dislike of those who think the world owes them a living.
What have you got in exchange?
The yachtsman digs in his pocket and pulls out a roll, waving it in the
air.
Good hard cash.
The yachtsman’s wife, the older of the two women, looks horrified that
he is drunk and waving money around in front of a stranger. She puts
her hand on his arm, attempting to pull it down out of sight. He shakes
off her hand, annoyed. Finegans says,
Can’t use that.
The yachtsman gets belligerent.
It’s good hard cash!
Finegan shakes his head and points to the half-empty whiskey bottle the
yachtsman has been waving around.
I’ll take one of those, a full one, and some
antibiotics if you have any. I’ll toss in some
applies for the pills.
The yachtsman ponders the deal for a moment, then turns to the women
standing to the side in their nightdresses. They look at him
expectantly, obviously wanting the deal to go through.
16
The yachtsman waves his arm toward the deck between he and the women.
Bring the stuff on up here then.
Finegan is not putting himself in that position.
You have one of them come down here to pick it
up.
Finegan leans to the side, murmuring to Joey that he should get some
used plastic grocery store bags from the house. He is motioning to the
vegetable bins and the fish box on the deck, giving instructions.
The daughter of the yachtsman, the younger of the pair, slips into the
cabin and returns dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot. She has a
bottle of whiskey and a small bottle of pills in her hands. She tosses
the whiskey to Finegan and climbs down the metal ladder at the side of
the yacht to hand him the bottle of pills. Finegan examines the bottle
and nods to Joey. Finegan has not turned his back on the yacht the
whole time.
Joey is stuffing vegetables into the bags. He pulls out a large cabbage
from one bin, the outer leaves curling and turning brown on the edges.
He pulls out a few apples, wrinkled from dehydration. He bags several
potatoes and another bag of a half dozen onions. The fish likewise are
bagged, though some are set aside for the crew’s breakfast. The
daughter is handing the bags up to her mother, then climbs up herself.
Finegan walks backwards to the bike rig at the rear of the houseboat,
never turning his back to the yacht but trying not to look too obvious
about this, and easing into the seat starts a reverse paddle until
there is some distance between the boats. Finegan shouts his goodbye.
Your man got himself shot last night.
The daughter, who has been standing at the rail watching the houseboat
pull away, looks shocked and anguished. The man making the night raid
was obviously her husband.
17
Chapter 4: Peaches and Cream
The houseboat is approaching a large island created by the rising
water. It is a hill surrounded by valleys. On one slope is a pecan
orchard, and on another a peachtree orchard, but from a distance these
only appear as woodlands. This is land formerly in the state of
Georgia.
In between there are some trees and country roads, which dip down into