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    A houseboat. Finegan Fine

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    me a lift?

      Finegan has left the pedals, letting the houseboat drift slowing toward

      the raft city for a gentle landing. He is also being cautious, wanting

      to be sure he wants to pick this man up before making a bridge with the

      gangplank. He climbs to the rooftop to engage in a dialog. Joey slips

      122

      into the pedal seat and back pedals when he sees the gap of water

      between the houseboat and raft city closing. Finegan asks,

      Where’s the others?

      The cannibal looks shocked at first, not the question he expected.

      Finally, he finds his voice.

      They died. . . We been out here awhile, no land

      in sight. . . No food. . . Catch a little

      rainwater now and then. . . I’m the last.

      Finegan is still highly suspicious.

      How did they die?

      The cannibal is realizing for the first time that he needs to concoct a

      story, as he has been taken by surprise by Finegan’s arrival and the

      tide bringing the floating raft city close to shore.

      Ah . . dysentery . . got a fever and the shits

      and just wasted away.

      Finegan is glancing at the bloody construction sign and items of

      clothing tossed around on most of the rafts and does not buy this

      story.

      All except you, eh? You look plenty well fed.

      The cannibal is getting shifty eye’d, feeling trapped, and is starting

      to worry that he won’t get a lift to shore. He is looking over the

      expanse of water and Finegan can see the mental wheels turning. Finegan

      looks over his shoulder toward the shore, then back to the cannibal. He

      says,

      The tide’s turning again now, pulling out.

      The cannibal says,

      Maybe I better start swimming then.

      With one last look at Finegan’s face to look for a change of heart, the

      cannibal grabs a corner of one of the insulation rafts and jerks it

      toward him, breaking a corner off. Holding onto this like a phalanx, he

      dives into the water and starts kicking his feet, paddling to shore

      using the insulation piece as floatation. Joey has turned the houseboat

      to follow the cannibal, keeping a distance to the side.

      After furiously kicking for a few minutes, the cannibal pauses to catch

      his breath, gasping furiously. The houseboat is about 50 feet away,

      moving in parallel to the swimmer as they head toward shore. The

      cannibal has his upper body heaved up onto the insulation board, his

      feet dangling in the water. He looks over at Finegan.

      Not gonna give me a lift, eh?

      Finegan says,

      Not until you tell me straight.

      The cannibal begins to relay his story.

      123

      We were losing all land. Had to do somethin.

      This was couple months back. We had no clue

      about direction. . . Just floated.

      The picture he paints if of twenty people of all ages, including a

      little girl clutching a rag doll, climbing onto the floating raft city

      from the roof of a truck cab parked at a construction site. The rafts

      are turning in the swirling water, bringing empty rafts toward the

      truck cab, so each person or person with a child or couple can step

      onto their own raft. Those waiting to board a raft are standing back on

      the bed of the truck, waist deep in water. Cardboard boxes have been

      thrown atop some of the floating insulation boards.

      The cannibal has now caught his breath. He starts kicking his legs

      again in ernest, moving in the direction of shore. Finegan is standing

      with his arms folded over his chest now, openly showing his suspicions.

      Joey pedals a bit to stay alongside the cannibal. The cannibal once

      again stops, out of breath, and glances up at Finegan.

      So after a couple weeks some that were thin to

      begin with went blank, ya know. . . in a coma.

      . . The rest of us were starving, cramps. . .

      There was a guy who used to be a butcher. . .

      The picture he paints if of the raft city at night, a man slithering

      across a raft to slip onto another raft where a thin man is lying on

      his back.

      One night we heard him go over there, and in

      the morning we saw what he was about. That guy

      in a coma had his throat slit, blood

      everywhere. . . Pieces were missing.

      The cannibal is still trying to catch his breath.

      He had a knife. Said anyone wants a piece is

      welcome, but if they try to take him down he’d

      eat them too.

      At this the cannibal starts kicking for another few minutes. Finegan

      turns his back on the cannibalL to speak quietly to Joey during the

      splashing.

      We’re not taking him aboard, just so’s you

      know.

      The cannibal is again out of breath.

      Long story short, that butcher fed well while

      the rest of us got faint. Next we knew another

      and another went into a coma, no food and

      little water. It’d get dark, and by dawn, he’d

      be on another raft, fresh meat. . . After

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      awhile I saw that I’d be among ‘em, if I didn’t

      get something to eat, some blood to drink.

      He paints a picture of a decimated raft city, down to a half dozen

      people.

      I ain’t proud of it, but I ain’t the one slit

      anyone’s throat.

      Finegan asks,

      So why are you here, the butcher gone?

      The cannibal turns to splash away again, kicking furiously. He is

      trying to maximize his progress, while still hoping to get a lift in

      the houseboat. He’s also trying to buy time to concoct his story.

      Finegan again uses the opportunity to speak to Joey over his shoulder,

      in a quiet voice.

      I’ll bet he’s the damn butcher!

      Suddenly the splashing stops, the cannibal gasping for breath again.

      Then all is silent. Finegan turns to look again to the side of the

      houseboat in the direction of the cannibal. He sees the cannibal no

      longer clinging to the floating insulation piece, but swimming in long

      strokes toward the houseboat, closing the 50-foot gap. Finegan motions

      for Joey to turn the houseboat away from the swimmer. He jumps down to

      grab a long pole.

      The houseboat is now churning away from the swimming cannibal, who is

      only a foot or so from grabbing the paddles on the water wheel at the

      back. This distance is increased to several feet. The cannibal sees

      that he has lost this gamble and treads water now. Finegan says,

      The butcher ate and you starved, yet you’re

      here and he’s not?

      The cannibal defends himself, saying,

      We were running out of people to eat! It was

      gonna be me, next. He had to sleep sometime.

      There was a leg bone from the last carcass. . .

      Jumping rafts makes a lot of noise, slapping

      the water, so I slipped into the water and went

      under him, tipped his raft so he slid. Then I

      was up top, and had the leg bone. Every time he

      popped his head up, I’d club him again.

      Finegan glances toward the floating insulation piece, seeing it still

      nearby.

      You made good progress toward land. You keep it

      up, you’ll make it. We’re no
    t taking you

      aboard.

      125

      The cannibal goes into a backstroke toward his floatation piece,

      glowering at Finegan as he does so, clearly enraged. As the distance

      between the cannibal and the houseboat increases, Finegan motions to

      Joey to get out of the bike seat and let him pedal.

      Let’s put some distance between us. I wanna be

      waaaaay down the coast. . . Watch my back,

      will ya?

      Finegan shakes his head, pondering the story as he vigorously pedals

      away from the swimming cannibal.

      126

      Kudzu Canyons

      The houseboat is peddling along a coastline where kudzu vines, covering

      everything in sight, are cascading into the shoreline. Mist is rising

      from the water, so the scene is seen through the mist, a magical view.

      The kudzu has covered several trees, which form spires, and has covered

      the remains of some houses in an abandoned subdivision, the shape of

      the rooftops barely discernable. Finegan and Joey are in awe, drifting

      past the sight silently, with Joey on his usual place on the houseboat

      roof and Finegan at the pedals.

      As they round a curve in the shoreline, they see an even more amazing

      sight – the remains of a car recycling junkyard where cars have been

      piled high after being crushed. Atop the piles are cars, which are not

      yet crushed. Kudzu vines have climbed up almost to the tops of the car

      piles, so the roads between the crushed car piles have become kudzu

      canyons.

      People are living in the cars atop the piles, using the broken down

      cars as a type of rainproof shelter. The trunks have been popped from

      some of the cars, propped open as bedrooms for children. Some children

      are leaning out of one trunk, waving at the houseboat as it drifts

      past. Most of the cars have at least one door open, with an adult

      sitting inside. The front seats of some cars have been pushed all the

      way back to be used for sleeping, and have pillows and blankets tossed

      about, an unmade bed. In others, the front seat has been removed but

      the back seat is being used as a bed.

      127

      A Confederate flag is hoisted on a car radio antenna, but there are

      other flags indicating independence. These flags look almost like tie-

      dye, the paint and lettering faded, and are a variety of colors and

      faded lettering. one flag that has “Kudzu Nation” painted in green

      lettering. This flag lettering is fresh, not faded.

      As the houseboat drifts toward the end of the car recycling plant,

      there is a cleared area where a campfire is burning, a large pot hung

      over the fire, burbling away. Several picnic benches are placed here

      and there on a level spot nearby, with residents of the Kudzu Nation

      lounging. Some wear baseball caps, cutoff jeans or pants, and t-shirts

      with the sleeves torn off or rolled high. This is redneck country. The

      men have beards. Several of the lounging residents wave and tip their

      baseball caps toward the houseboat drifting by. Finegan says,

      . . Seem friendly enough . .

      Finegan pedals toward shore, then backpedals to slow the houseboat,

      then comes forward to help Joey moor the boat. Joey is already swinging

      one of the grappling hooks. Children and adults are climbing down the

      vines, hand over hand and putting their feet against the rusting

      crushed cars underneath the vine cover. Some adults are climbing just

      below their young children, so if the child falters they can catch the

      child, blocking its fall. An old man is climbing down with his cane

      slung over his back.

      The piles of crushed cars, topped with cars as living quarters, and the

      kudzu cascading down the sides of the piles, all now covered with

      creeping and hobbling residents, look a bit like an anthill under an

      evacuation. Finegan comes across the gangplank, followed by Joey.

      128

      Finegan extends his hand to the apparently leader, the Kudzu King, who

      is approaching with an extended hand and broad grin. Finegan says,

      Finegan Fine here, trader.

      The Kudzu King says,

      Ain’t you the clever one! You got access to all

      what’s flooded. Be damned.

      The Kudzu King has a tanned face, a beard that has been crudely trimmed

      to be only a few inches long, hair that looks just as butchered by

      scissors, and is wearing well worn jeans, scuffed brown leather boots,

      and an undershirt with a short-sleeved plaid shirt on top. His shirts

      look grimy and sweaty, and are torn in several places. The Kudzu King

      adjusts his baseball cap, and can hardly stop grinning. He slaps

      Finegan on the shoulder, welcoming him, and walks alongside him as they

      walk to the campfire. He says,

      We’re just setting up breakfast. Yer welcome to

      share what we got. You like kudzu?

      ______________________________

      Finegan is seated at a picnic bench, talking to several adults either

      seated on the bench or on the ground in front of Finegan. They are all

      telling tales. Joey is kicking a ball around on the ground with some

      other boys his age in the background. In the foreground a woman is

      preparing a picnic table, clearing dishes that have been washed and

      dried from the last meal away and handing them to a girl to set them

      aside on a rack.

      Four men walk up with a kudzu tuber in a sling, one man on each corner

      of the sling. An immense 100-pound kudzu tuber conglomeration is in the

      middle of the sling, roots sticking out in every direction. The men

      heave it onto the empty picnic table, while the woman and girl bring

      buckets of water from the shore to slosh over the tuber mass, scrubbing

      any dirt away with brushes. A man comes with a machete knife and begins

      to hack at the tubers, breaking the mass into potato sized chunks.

      Periodically they step back and let the woman and girl collect the

      chunks in their hands and walk to the boiling pot, tossing the chunks

      in.

      The Kudzu King says,

      . . Been our salvation. Like taters. And the

      leaves too. That’s fer supper. Kind’a plain but

      steady. I still miss biscuits ‘n gravy. Dream

      on that.

      129

      A dairy cow is lead past on her way to being milked. The Kudzu King

      says,

      . . About ate all them cows. . . Ate everything

      in sight. But BillyBob took a stand when they

      came for his prize bull. Said they’d have ta

      take him first. Good thing too. We still got

      milk for the kids.

      The Kudzu King flashes Finegan a grin.

      BillyBob lived like a king on stud fees too,

      fer awhile. Had saved the last damn bull.

      Them cows pasture in the kudzu patch too.

      Finegan asks,

      No downside, eh?

      The Kudzu King responds.

      Um . . A patch of this stuff can be home to

      snakes and vermin. Can’t see ‘um. I’ll show you

      after breakfast. We’ll go on patrol.

      Joey comes up with a plate filled with what looks like mashed potatoes

      and a glass of milk for Finegan, while the girl helping with breakfast

      brings the same for the Kudzu King. While the Ku
    dzu King is stuffing

      his face, Finegan poses another burning curiosity question, waving his

      fork in the direction of the crushed car piles.

      How’d you come to be living up high. I mean . .

      you didn’t drive ‘em up there.

      The Kudzu King looks up through his eyebrows and swallows, pausing in

      his ravenous eating, waving his fork in that direction too as he

      explains.

      We saw the waters a’risin. An the kudzu eating

      the trees. Them cranes still had some gas in

      130

      ‘em, so we lifted the hulks waitin to be

      crushed.

      Returning to his mashed potatoes again, he gives a final wave of his

      fork and a glance toward the car piles.

      We got the air. And the snakes don’t bother us

      cause the vermin don’t live there. Nothing to

      eat.

      The Kudzu King swings his fork toward the woods behind them.

      They like the woods. The rats eat the bugs and

      the snakes eat the rats and bugs don’t live on

      metal.

      The Kudzu King shakes his head while he returns to stuffing his mouth.

      That’s where we’d be, if’en it twern’t for the

      car piles. Hell of a place. I’ll show you right

      after breakfast here.

      ______________________________

      The Kudzu King and several other men are ready for patrol. They are

      carrying knives, machetes, an ax, a boomerang, and a length of chain –

      any weapons they can find. One of the men has a large empty net thrown

      over his shoulder. Another carries a couple shovels. And yet another

      carries the sling used to bring the kudzu tubers to the breakfast

      table. Finegan walks up armed with the houseboat club. She asks,

      Are we going to war?

      The Kudzu King says,

      That about says it.

      An outdoor school is being conducted behind the men. The schoolmarm has

      a chalkboard to the side and is writing words down, having the children

     


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