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the water. The island is at least a mile wide, but is clearly

surrounded by water. The distance to the mainland appears to be about a

quarter mile, not far, but too far to swim for those not fit.

Joey is on the roof, looking out for hidden treetops that could cause

problems. Joey paces, shielding his eyes on occasion, and points in the

direction he thinks will be the best approach. They are looking for a

sharp slope, not a gradual slope, so they can use the gangplank and

don’t have to wade in the water.

The people on shore are running along the shoreline trying to line up

with the spot where the houseboat will land. Half the group are white,

half African American, all dressed in similar casual tattered clothes.

Finegan runs the houseboat close to shore and comes forward to anchor

with his grappling hooks.

Stand back. Stand back!

The crowd of about a dozen people shrinks back a few feet.

Stand way back! Way back.

The crowd turns and moves back a goodly way and Finegan heaves his

hooks onto the bank, then moves the plank into place and strides

across. Joey is at his heels, and as always Barney stays behind to

guard the houseboat.

Finegan Fine here, trader. You folks seem eager

to do some trading.

A spokesperson for the group says,

We’re trapped! Can you give us a lift? We waded

over for peaches and pecans, due for harvest.

Stayed too long.

Finegan ponders a moment .

Got any left?

The spokesperson is eager.

Plenty. We planned to take it all back. Uh, we

could give you some.

Finegan barters back.

18

Tell you what. I’ll give you portage with all

you can carry, but the rest is mine.

The spokesperson, the apparent leader of the stranded survivors, looks

from one side to the other among the others and sees that they all feel

they have no choice.

Agreed.

They all start clamoring for the gangplank. Finegan says,

Whoa! Where’s the loot?

The spokesman has his hand up, trying to stop the stamped. He turns,

directing the group to get their harvest and return to the boat. And

Finegan reassures them,

I’m not going anywhere. Be right here.

A legless man has been approaching during all of this, on crutches. He

is just arriving as they all are scampering off to collect the harvest,

and stops, dismayed. He raises one crutch to point at the disappearing

backs.

Well I know I reek but they’re not even trying

to be polite.

Finegan, delighted to have the company, welcomes him aboard.

Common aboard. They just went to get the goods.

I’ll be taking you across.

______________________________

The legless man is seated on some boxes, his crutches beside him and

his one leg stretched out in front of him, bracing. His dark hair is

unkempt and his clothing dirty and tattered. He has a short beard, more

from the lack of shaving regularly than an attempt to have a beard.

Appearance is the least of his concerns.

Joey has come up to sit near him, Barney lying down at his feet. Joey

is curious and finally cannot contain his curiosity.

How’d you lose your leg?

The legless man replies ,

Accident, where I worked. Chain broke.

He has been glancing at Joey during this exchange, gauging his

reaction. Joey meets his eyes, not ashamed of his curiosity as he sees

the legless man is not touchy.

Does it hurt?

Joey jumps off his box and comes over to the leg, his nose a few inches

from the stump. He puts his finger out to poke the stump, then

hesitates, glancing at the legless man.

The legless man pats his stump, showing Joey it is sound.

19

Don’t hurt no more. Sometimes the leg itches

though.

Joey looks up at him and smiles, catching the joke, and then returns to

his seat on the box. He has grown serious, pondering the man’s

troubles.

I used to get a check every month, but don’t no

more.

Then, more a comment to himself than to Joey, he mutters under his

breath.

Wouldn’t do any good anyhow. Nobody wants

paper.

The legless man seems to notice for the first time that Barney is

missing a rear leg. He points at the dog.

How’d that happen?

Joey looks up and over his shoulder to the tall pile of boxes where

Finegan has stationed himself. The lookout post. Finegan tells the

tale.

Lost it to a shark. Small hammerhead. He

had ahold of part of my catch, pulled right up

on deck. I guess he thought Barney looked like

a better meal. I’ve never quite forgiven

myself.

The legless man, being a positive person, puts a positive spin on it

all.

Aw, hey, he looks like he’s doing fine! Me too.

Gets me out of emptying the crap pot, that’s

for sure.

He throws a grin up at Finegan.

The ladies feel sorry for me.

______________________________

The houseboat is making its final run from the island to the mainland,

with the last of the crowd. Only four people at a time were allowed due

to the weight. They are carrying as many peaches and pecans as they can

stuff into their clothing or hang over their shoulders.

Finegan has distributed these last four so that two each are on a side

of the houseboat. His booty from the island has been loaded into boxes

at the front. Joey is distributing the weight from front to back. He

hops over the roof of the house to do so, carrying the peaches and

pecans in a plastic bag which he empties into boxes at the rear.

Finegan says,

20

I’m still riding too high back here. You folks

move on toward the back, please.

While they’re waiting for the pedals to lower fully into the water, a

young woman has moved toward the rear of the boat and is flirting with

Finegan. She has one haunch on a box and has pulled her skirt up,

ostensibly to keep cool in the midday heat, exposing an attractive leg.

She is wearing a low-cut summer dress, but has heavy leather boots on

her feet. She keeps glancing at Finegan, smiling. She is young,

attractive, and buxom.