Finegan leans to the side, murmuring to Joey that he should get some
used plastic grocery store bags from the house. He is motioning to the
vegetable bins and the fish box on the deck, giving instructions.
The daughter of the yachtsman, the younger of the pair, slips into the
cabin and returns dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot. She has a
bottle of whiskey and a small bottle of pills in her hands. She tosses
the whiskey to Finegan and climbs down the metal ladder at the side of
the yacht to hand him the bottle of pills. Finegan examines the bottle
and nods to Joey. Finegan has not turned his back on the yacht the
whole time.
Joey is stuffing vegetables into the bags. He pulls out a large cabbage
from one bin, the outer leaves curling and turning brown on the edges.
He pulls out a few apples, wrinkled from dehydration. He bags several
potatoes and another bag of a half dozen onions. The fish likewise are
bagged, though some are set aside for the crew’s breakfast. The
daughter is handing the bags up to her mother, then climbs up herself.
Finegan walks backwards to the bike rig at the rear of the houseboat,
never turning his back to the yacht but trying not to look too obvious
about this, and easing into the seat starts a reverse paddle until
there is some distance between the boats. Finegan shouts his goodbye.
The daughter, who has been standing at the rail watching the houseboat
pull away, looks shocked and anguished. The man making the night raid
was obviously her husband.
17
Chapter 4: Peaches and Cream
The houseboat is approaching a large island created by the rising
water. It is a hill surrounded by valleys. On one slope is a pecan
orchard, and on another a peachtree orchard, but from a distance these
only appear as woodlands. This is land formerly in the state of
Georgia.
In between there are some trees and country roads, which dip down into
the water. The island is at least a mile wide, but is clearly
surrounded by water. The distance to the mainland appears to be about a
quarter mile, not far, but too far to swim for those not fit.
Joey is on the roof, looking out for hidden treetops that could cause
problems. Joey paces, shielding his eyes on occasion, and points in the
direction he thinks will be the best approach. They are looking for a
sharp slope, not a gradual slope, so they can use the gangplank and
don’t have to wade in the water.
The people on shore are running along the shoreline trying to line up
with the spot where the houseboat will land. Half the group are white,
half African American, all dressed in similar casual tattered clothes.
Finegan runs the houseboat close to shore and comes forward to anchor
with his grappling hooks.
The crowd of about a dozen people shrinks back a few feet.
The crowd turns and moves back a goodly way and Finegan heaves his
hooks onto the bank, then moves the plank into place and strides
across. Joey is at his heels, and as always Barney stays behind to
guard the houseboat.
A spokesperson for the group says,
Finegan ponders a moment
The spokesperson is eager.
Finegan barters back.
18
The spokesperson, the apparent leader of the stranded survivors, looks
from one side to the other among the others and sees that they all feel
they have no choice.
They all start clamoring for the gangplank. Finegan says,
The spokesman has his hand up, trying to stop the stamped. He turns,
directing the group to get their harvest and return to the boat. And
Finegan reassures them,
A legless man has been approaching during all of this, on crutches. He
is just arriving as they all are scampering off to collect the harvest,
and stops, dismayed. He raises one crutch to point at the disappearing
backs.
Finegan, delighted to have the company, welcomes him aboard.
