A houseboat. Finegan Fine

A friend of May’s toward the back of the crowd recognizes her.

We were so worried about you.

Looking past May to the houseboat and not seeing any others, she looks

puzzled.

Where’s the family?

May is walking cautiously along the plank, stepping gingerly onto shore

and up to greet her friend.

They left in a boat yesterday. Something must

have happened because they were supposed to

come back for me.

May is looking a little consternated, but her friend has hardened her

face. They both turn to go up the hill, the friend’s arm around May’s

frail frame. May’s friend says grimly

I never did like that man.

Finegan is bargaining with the farm matron. She complains that the

group staying with her

7

Ate everything.

Ready to barter, Finegan says

I’ve got some fine fish here, fresh from last

night, and if you let me stay for dinner I’d be

obliged.

Finegan reaches behind him to pull a rusty child’s wagon out and heaves

the wooden box of fish into it. They set out up the hill, side by side,

chatting.

How’d you catch all that? We don’t get but an

occasional with the line.

The sky is beginning to turn orange, signaling eventide.

______________________________

Fish are sizzling in a pan placed over a campfire. Finegan is milling

around in the background, talking to several people over a pile of junk

that has been assembled. There are children in the group, curious as

always.

A man jogs up holding what looks like a radio setup, including a long

stiff wire that has been used as an antenna. Finegan takes this in his

hands and looks it over, talking to the man at the same time, and

glancing up at the rooftop.

Can’t get anything from there?

The man shakes his head.

Not lately. I think the base tower went down.

The group is drifting away, moving toward the picnic table in

anticipation of supper. The farm matron comes up from behind Finegan

and begins talking behind him, so the group won’t be alerted to their

conversation. She has a bag of onions hanging from one hand, her barter

for the fish, to explain why she is approaching him. Finegan looks up,

but does not yet turn around to face her, sensing the agenda.

The farm matron speaks quietly.

I have a favor to ask. We’ve got little Joey

here, was trapped here with his grandad when

the waters started to rise. Grandpa died

yesterday, and the boy wants to go home. Take

the boy up aways and give his folks the body.

I’m afraid if you don’t do this, someone here

will eat him.

8

Finegan nods, then turns for their official conversation about the

onions.

Fine mess you have there! Keep well too. You

grow these here?

As the farm matron backs away, Finegan moves to the side to address an

old timer at the fringe.

Finegan is desperate for a drink, the burning issue on his alcohol

sopped mind. Of all the casualties in the flood, the disappearance of

readily available booze has been the worst, to his way of thinking.

Where you folks keep the still?

The old timer laughs and points.

Out yonder in the flood.

9

Chapter 2: Burial at Sea

The following morning Finegan has a couple passengers on the houseboat.

Joey is sleeping at the side of his dead grandpa, who has been wrapped

in a sheet. Joey has one arm over the chest of the corpse, his head

resting on grandpa’s shoulder despite the flies beginning to buzz

about. Finegan is standing in the doorway of the house, arms folded,

looking at the scene and pondering.

Barney had been sleeping next to Joey, but looks up at Finegan

expectantly. Feeling Barney move, Joey wakens. He points across the

water.

We lived over there, but yonder, behind that

hill.

Seeing the cloud of buzzing flies, Finegan is seeking a quick solution.

You ever heard of burial at sea?