A houseboat. Finegan Fine

The main factory building has a slightly sloping flat metal roof, with

the walls coming up over the roof edge for a couple feet as a guardrail

around the edge of the rooftop. The rooftop is covered with greenery,

some kind of rooftop garden, with wines hanging down over the edges of

the roof. There is the sound of a metal door opening on the roof, the

access door to the rooftop from a stairwell.

A bent little man emerges from the stairwell door, letting the creaking

door close slowly by itself. He heads over to a row of what looks like

cabbage, bending over it to weed the row, not noticing the approaching

houseboat. The gardener is bent, a back curved from years of working in

this position and from malnutrition, though he is not that old. He has

black hair and pale skin, a gaunt look, and appears to be small boned.

All is still except for the sound of water splashing against the side

of the houseboat.

Finegan hops up to the houseboat rooftop, standing next to Joey, for a

better look. Finegan calls out a greeting.

Yo, the gardens! Good day to you. Finegan Fine

here, trader. . . How you manage that, on the

rooftop?

The gardener freezes at the sound of a voice so close, and so

unexpected. He straightens up, as much as his bent back will allow, and

looks in Finegan’s direction. Then he puts his handful of weeds plucked

from the row down, and shuffles over to the rooftop edge. The gardener

puts a hand up to shield his eyes against the morning sun, taking a

moment before he responds in a high nasal voice.

What kind’a contraption is that?

Finegan replies,

It’s a houseboat. Floats. I got a water wheel

in the back to push it along. Slow, but steady.

The gardener says,

A trader you say?

108

To which Finegan pitches his line.

What might you need?

______________________________

The houseboat is tied to a post at the corner of the factory rooftop. A

knotted rope ladder is hanging down onto the deck of the houseboat.

Finegan and Joey are being given a tour of the rooftop gardens by the

gardener.

. . We seen the water’s a’rising and dug some

good soil before it was covered. Those of us

ain’t never had no land in our name. Cain’t run

off with the house, but them landlords not

gonna miss some soil from a flooded yard. . .

We use rainwater here.

The gardener is motioning along the rows as they walk.

Tomatoes do well . . greens of many kinds . .

Potatoes if you keep ‘em wet . . can’t get

those carrots to grow unless they’s the stubby

kind . .

They come to the watering system where there are hoses with holes

running down the length of the soil troughs, in the center of each

trough. There is a water tank on the roof which had been used by the

factory, raised above the roof so there is water pressure.

This here’s how we water. Wears me out hauling

the rainwater up there every time, though.

Collects in the drains over there, which’n we

blocked.

The rooftop door opens again and the gardeners’s wife and 10 year old

daughter emerge. The wife has more meat on her bones than her husband,

though it is clear she has lost most of her fat in recent months. Her

long skirt is held up by cloth strips up over her shoulders like

suspenders, sewn onto the waist front and back. The daughter is scrawny

and wears a combination of her parent’s clothing, one of her father’s

shirts and a pair of her mother’s pantaloons, also held up by

suspenders. Her pantaloons are tied at the ankle, they are so

voluminous. They have dressed for company, and have brushed their hair

for the occasion too. The gardener turns toward them and to introduce

them to Finegan.

My wife and darlin daughter.

Finegan has been looking around, appraising the setup.

We might ought fix a pumping system to lift

that rainwater. Can you give me a tour to look

for parts?

109

The gardener says,

They took ‘bout everything. Common.

______________________________

The gardener is walking Finegan through their living quarters on the

floor below the gardens. He is walking just ahead of Finegan, gesturing

to the right and left, turning to walk backwards at times, pointing at

this and that.

We brung just the personals. Dragged a couple

mattress. Plain livin but we’re making do.

They return to the stairwell, as the gardener wants to show Finegan

that the lower floors are inaccessible. Finegan follows the gardener

down to the next landing where the water level is visible.