A houseboat. Finegan Fine

offers his clients and pulls off one of his boots, trying on the larger

boot. He stomps on his foot and looks up at Finegan, smiling.

On the perimeter of the flea market is a barbeque pit, which is

smoking, the coals glowing, but the meat to be cooked is missing. A

horse drawn wagon is approaching this spot, loaded with a large dead

pig and cages holding young piglets. The dead pig has tusks, was a

feral pig, and is covered with coarse hair rather than the soft pink

skin of domestic pigs. It has been gutted and is ready to cook. Two men

riding on the back of the wagon hop off and pick up the ends of the

barbeque spit which has been driven through the dead pig from one end

to the other. They heave the pig into the air and carry it over to the

barbeque pit, placing it on the Y stands at either end of the pit. Now

that the meat has been placed above the fire, they complete the

skinning process, pulling the skin up over the pig’s head and over the

tusks, which are attached to the head bones and resist breaking off.

The wagon master is a young girl about 11 years of age. She is

barefoot, wears bib jeans with a t-shirt underneath, and has her hair

in braids on either side. She secures the reins and hops off the wagon

seat, pulling a board nailed onto a stake from the wagon bed. On the

board, in red paint, are the words “Wild Piglets”. She walks over to a

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clear area near the barbeque pit, reserved for her display, and hammers

the stake into the ground there, tossing the hammer into her wagon.

One of her two men picks up a covered bucket of barbeque sauce from the

wagon bed and returns to baste the now roasting pig. The other comes to

help the girl unload the piglets in cages. The piglets are young, only

about a foot long, and protesting, squealing. After they offload the

piglet cages, she immediately turns on her heel and comes over to the

shoeman, who says,

Howdy Matilda.

Matilda says,

They ate another pair.

The shoeman smiles and says,

You gotta stop kicking at them beasts.

Matilda walks into the shoe display area, scanning quickly, and leans

over to pick up the pair of boots just added, the ones Joey had been

wearing. She says,

Don’t remember you having these.

Matilda sits on the chair provided by the shoeman for clients and slips

her bare foot into one of the boots, standing to measure the fit when

her weight is pressing down. She smiles and glances up at the shoeman,

who says,

Consider it a donation to the campaign.

Matilda protests.

It’d only set them that can’t donate to

worrying. Favors and all . . You take one a

them squealers. I’ll tell John. . . Not that I

don’t appreciate the thought, Clem.

Joey is trying to get into the conversation as he meets few children

his age. He points at her new boots.

Those were my boots.

Matilda drops her gaze briefly at the set Joey is wearing, quickly

understanding that a trade had occurred, and just as quickly changing

the subject. She asks,

You folks new in the area? Pleased to meet you.

Stay for the barbeque!

Matilda extends her hand first to Joey and then quickly to a surprised

Finegan, who is not expecting this from a girl.

______________________________

Finegan is returning from the houseboat with a hammer and small box of

nails in his hands as he has found a saw he wants and has worked out a

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trade with the owner. He strides up to the hand tool display area and

extends his offering in front of him.

These.

He places them into the toolman’s hands and points to the saw.

For that.

Joey is wandering after Matilda, fascinated by her confidence and

social skills. Matilda is working the crowd, on occasion offering her

hand for a shake, on occasion placing her hand on someone’s arm, but

never lingering for more than a minute in any location. She comes up to

a woman who looks like she is about to cry, talking to a man getting

red in the face. The woman says,

But you owe me a hen. You promised. We ain’t

had meat ta home for a month.

The man is fuming.

They’re all sitting eggs, I tell you. Cain’t

you wait a couple weeks?

Matilda is looking from one to the other, saying nothing. Finally, she

sees a break in the argument and says to the woman,

How big did you say that old coop you got on

your place is?

The man and woman stare at each other for a moment, suddenly realizing

a solution. Both talking at once almost on top of each other. He says,

You got a coop? I’m outta space and with the

new’uns coming. . . Ya know, chicks take to a