A houseboat. Finegan Fine

models. He is using his hands to measure Joey’s body and then squeezing

or pulling apart the model sections accordingly.

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A seamstress comes up with a tape measure and takes some measures of

Joey - across his shoulders, around his chest, from neck to waist, and

from waist to crotch. She brings up a swath of fine woolen cloth and

holds it up to Finegan and Joey for approval.

______________________________

Finegan is loading a couple tarps onto the rusty child’s wagon he uses

to cart goods. The gangplank is now level with the shore, the tide

having risen. He sets out toward the hilltop, toward the mill complex.

As Finegan is coming up over the top of the hill he pauses to catch his breath and looks out over the hills. The deafmute is coming to meet

him.

There is smoke rising from the mainland here and there. The deafmute

glances at Finegan, slicing his hand under his chin indicating much

danger there. The deafmute points at the water, then pats his hand

down, indicating the time when the water was low, then pulls his hand

under his chin again.

He motions to Finegan to follow him, and goes to a cleft in the rock

nearby, showing Finegan a hidden bunker with a metal door. The door is

in the shadows so blends in with the rock. Pulling this door open, the

deafmute steps in, Finegan following.

Finegan nods, indicating he understands what the man is saying. The

group hid here if any danger from looters was a threat. They emerge

from the bunker and return to the hilltop where they stare at the fires

on the mainland. Finegan suddenly remembers he has a pair of binoculars

at the houseboat, and raises his hand to the deafmute, pushing against

him, indicating “wait here”, then takes off running toward the

houseboat.

Moments later, Finegan is returning with the binoculars, puffing up the

hill. He holds them high so the deafmute can see what he was after.

Finegan stands at the crest of the hill, holding the binoculars to his

eyes, scanning. There are fires in the background, people dashing back

and forth, throwing rocks at each other.

Finegan hands the binoculars to the deafmute who takes a look. When the

deafmute tries to return them to Finegan he pushes his palm in the

direction of the deafmute, indicating he should keep them. The deafmute

looks at Finegan’s face for a moment, then nods and returns to using

them, not arguing and accepting the gift. They need to know when danger

is approaching.

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______________________________

Finegan has brought Joey to the fitting room of the Mill complex, where

the models and sewing machine are housed. They are standing in the

dimming light. Joey has the new pants and shirt on, and they fit

perfectly. The pants are of heavier material than the shirt, and a

lighter color of brown.

The seamstress has squatted down while she checks her work. She tugs at

the shoulder and waist, and is satisfied with the fit. She has her

yellow cloth tape measure around her neck. She rises and faces Finegan,

then pulling her tape measure from around her neck moves as though to

measure Finegan’s shoulders. Pressing against him, and taking his face

in her hands, she suddenly gives him a long, lingering kiss.

Finegan stands shock still, not expecting this. As she pulls back,

looking into his eyes, he raises an eyebrow, indicating something else

has arisen. Giving up the booze has its benefits. Then with a smile, he

folds her in his arms, leans her backwards, and gives her a long

passionate kiss.

______________________________

Joey is sitting forlornly in the door of the house on the houseboat

with Barney. Both are missing Finegan, who has not yet returned. Joey

takes the picture of his parents from his pocket and looks at it in the

dim light, then tucks the photo back into his pocket. He puts his arm

around Barney, who is leaning against him, and sighs. Finegan comes

into view in the dim light, dragging his rusty wagon.

Joey has scrambled to his feet, trying to act nonchalant by fussing

with some rope at the side, as though Finegan’s whereabouts had been

the last thing on his mind.

What did they trade for the binoculars?

Finegan replies,

Honey. Something sweeter than honey, in fact. .

. You know, as good as that seamstress is, we

should try to bring her some business now and

then. . . Not sure how to arrange that, though.

Finegan is lively and smiling. He gazes up toward the mill complex

hill, reflecting.

Maybe I’ll need a new set of clothes.

______________________________

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