A houseboat. Finegan Fine

______________________________

The rowboat has been outfitted with a single sail, the supports nailed

to the side of the rowboat with bracing at the bottom of the rowboat.

The sail can swing from side to side to catch the breeze.

As Finegan and Joey stand on the deck of the houseboat, waving goodby,

the new sail has billowed out in the evening breeze, and the rowboat is

picking up speed as it moves toward the shoreline.

______________________________

Later that evening there are several popping noises on the shore, with

lights that look like firecrackers briefly going off. These are not

firecrackers, but gunshots. Finegan comes out to stand next to Joey and

Barney, who have been sleeping on the deck. Finegan places his hand on

Joey’s shoulder, shaking it gently, to waken him.

Grab Barney and hold his mutt shut. There’s

trouble.

Joey wraps both legs around Barney, holding his mouth shut with one

hand, while Barney looks up at Joey, his eyes big but trusting.

______________________________

When Finegan has put some distance between the houseboat and the

shoreline, he steps through the clutter, coming forward to see about

breakfast. Joey is still seated with Barney, but no longer holding him

so he can’t bark, the danger being past. But just as they are about to

relax, Finegan freezes, looking off into the open water.

Finegan points to a small yacht, seemingly adrift, not anchored. The

houseboat is slowly drifting toward the yacht, due to momentum from the

trip into open water. Finegan steps back and ducks into the house. He

pulls a pistol out of a drawer and stuffs it into the back of his pants

at the waistline.

Stepping back onto the deck to stand behind Joey and Barney, Finegan

places his hand on Joey’s shoulder.

Somethin’ doesn’t smell right about this.

As the houseboat drifts up to almost touch the side of the yacht, a man

stumbles out of the cabin, whiskey bottle in hand, staggering slightly.

He is wearing a sweaty white t-shirt and blue casual pants. Two women

emerge behind him, still in nightgowns. Finegan introduces himself.

15

Ahoy! Finegan Fine here, trader.

The yachtsman says,

We’re looking for food, fresh food. Sent a man

over to the mainland last night to look for

some and ain’t seen him since.

Finegan asks,

At night?

Aggravated at having been challenged, as it is obvious they didn’t

intend any but theft of someone else’s food cache, the yachtsman

replies,

Aaaaahhh. We didn’t want any trouble, ya know?

The yachtsman loses his balance and falls against the cabin, bouncing

back out onto the railing, which he grabs to right himself.

You got any food?

Finegan is playing along.

Plenty. Potatoes, onions, some cabbage, and

fish fresh from last night.

Finegan glances at the rear of the yacht, which doesn’t seem to have

any fishing apparatus. It’s a pleasure craft, not for fishing.

You don’t fish?

The yachtsman is surly.

We had supplies.

Where he bends over backwards for good folk, Finegan has a distinct

dislike of those who think the world owes them a living.

What have you got in exchange?

The yachtsman digs in his pocket and pulls out a roll, waving it in the

air.

Good hard cash.

The yachtsman’s wife, the older of the two women, looks horrified that

he is drunk and waving money around in front of a stranger. She puts

her hand on his arm, attempting to pull it down out of sight. He shakes

off her hand, annoyed. Finegans says,

Can’t use that.

The yachtsman gets belligerent.

It’s good hard cash!

Finegan shakes his head and points to the half-empty whiskey bottle the

yachtsman has been waving around.

I’ll take one of those, a full one, and some

antibiotics if you have any. I’ll toss in some

applies for the pills.

The yachtsman ponders the deal for a moment, then turns to the women

standing to the side in their nightdresses. They look at him

expectantly, obviously wanting the deal to go through.

16

The yachtsman waves his arm toward the deck between he and the women.

Bring the stuff on up here then.

Finegan is not putting himself in that position.