recite the words and discuss their meaning. Joey is sitting among the
children who range in age from 3 to 15. The schoolmarm has written
“sympathy” on the board. All the children say “sympathy” in unison. He
asks,
Who can tell me what this means?
The schoolmarm nods at one of the older children. The student says,
It means feeling what the other person feels.
The schoolmarm says,
Very good! Sympathy has a similar sound to
another word, which is . .
One of the younger children leaps up with the answer, hand in the air.
Empathy!
The schoolmarm writes the word “empathy” on the board and under this
the word “pathos”.
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Excellent! They both have the same root –
pathy, sympathy, empathy, or from the Greek
word pathos. Pathos is pity or suffering. See
how we can often figure out what a word means
by knowing a common root?
The patrol is marching off toward the kudzu forest, the sound of
singing insects drowning out the sounds of the classroom. The group of
men on patrol are walking along a well-worn path through the kudzu
forest. On either side are towering kudzu covered trees, which stand
like spires as the branches of the trees have rotted, only the trunk
remaining. They come to the area where the kudzu root and the greenery
the root system supports have been harvested. A large open area of
sandy red clay soil the size of a suburban back yard has holes and
piles of dirt where the digging recently occurred.
The Kudzu King cautiously approaches the side of this open area, ax in
hand. The rest of the group hangs back, but appears to be at the ready.
The Kudzu King grabs a vine where it comes out of the ground and hacks
at it, stepping backward toward the group, dragging the severed vine
with him. A bird flies out of the kudzu patch, startling some of the
men, who are tense. The man with the net spreads the net open while
those with knives slice off the green leaves, collected in the net. The
kudzu vine itself it cast to the side. The Kudzu King steps forward to
hack another vine, but quickly steps back. He says,
Whoa! Snake. Nemind, just a grass snake. Baby.
______________________________
The group now have their shirts removed, are sweaty and covered with
dust as the tubers have been dug up. Some are sitting around the edges
of a hole, catching their breath. The tubers have been heaved up and
onto the sling, also at the side. The Kudzu King is still pulling
vines, a separate operation from digging tubers. The vines are
interconnected so many are pulled down during any tug.
Finegan is standing close to him, ready for some sort of threat, club
in hand. As the Kudzu King leans into tugging he steps back and loses
his footing, falling on his butt. A family of frightened baby rabbits
scurry out from the burrow he has stepped into. One of the men grabs
the club Finegan is holding and clubs away at the baby rabbits which
are zigzagging in all directions, attempting to evade and escape. One
of the babies does not make it and lies dead and bleeding. Finegan is
trying to take this seriously, but has yet to see a threat and is
suppressing a grin.
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Guess he won’t hurt no one no more.
Finegan puts his hand out to help the Kudzu King up onto his feet.
You could use a break. Let me do that for a
spell.
Finegan picks up the machete and wades into the tangle of vines,
slashing at whatever is preventing the vine they are pulling down from
dropping. In the shadow of the kudzu forest just beyond Finegan’s feet
a copperhead is slithering away. There are salamanders scurrying away
as well, typical food for a copperhead. Finegan steps back.
Whoa!
Several men armed with the ax, machetes, and the club spring forward
but Finegan waves them away. Finegan says,
He’s well gone now. Copperhead. . . Damn.
Finegan returns to slashing vines but is more cautious now, poking the
vines aside before sliding his leg into a space.
______________________________
Finegan is sitting at one of the picnic benches with Joey at his side
and the schoolmarm on the other. He has several old National Geographic
magazines on his lap, one of them open. Joey is watching the
interchange intently, as this pertains to his future.
Guess in all this we forget the young’uns.
They’re growing up with no schooling, cain’t
read nor write most of ‘em. This ‘ere ‘ll perk
their interest, far away places and all. Some
nekked women in there too, just so’s you know.
Lots of big words in there too, with, ah, . .
Greek roots.
The schoolmarm is smiling as she accepts the pile from Finegan. She
asks,
Does Joey have a school?
Finegan says,
Not lately, but he’s goin to from now on.
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______________________________
Finegan has pedaled the houseboat away from the kudzu shore, into deep
water. They are heading for a small island nearby, a clump of flooded
trees, to moor for the night. Joey is at the rear of the houseboat,
talking to Finegan, as they are clear of flooded objects at the moment.
He has an open book on his lap with a copperhead snake skin being used
as a bookmark. Finegan says,
That school marm, she was thinking past the
troubles. We’re all so caught up in what’s to
eat, what we lost an all. Kids get lost in the
shuffle.
Joey says,
I promise. I’ll read a book every day. Out
loud, even.
Finegan sighs and looks momentarily distressed.
You know that lady did your set of clothes? She
and I, we . . well, what we done could’a made a
baby. Not saying it did, just could’a. . . What
kind a life would a kid have, trying to learn
to talk and all, where none do any talking? . .
I keep thinking, mehbe, mehbe we should go back
there and check, ya know?
Joey nods.
And no copperhead snakes there either.
Both Finegan and Joey laugh and grin at each other. Joey picks up his
book and starts reading “Moby Dick”, chapter one.
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Homecoming
Finegan is sitting cross-legged atop the roof of his houseboat, a map
spread out on his lap. He is pondering. Joey’s head pops up on one
side. Finegan says,
Seems to me it was about here . .
Finegan waves his hand in the direction of the open water where the
dawn is breaking.
But the land ashore looks different.
Joey climbs up on the rooftop and turns 360° around. He says,
The water rose since we been here last. . . I
think we were a bit more this direction.
Joey is pointing down along the shoreline, to his right as he faces the
shoreline. He says,
Mehbe so. . . I’ll go out to deep water and you
look afar out there. .
Finegan is pointing out into deep water, wh
ere they expect to find the
seamstress’s island.
______________________________
Finegan is peddling away, almost out of sight of the shoreline, but
moving parallel to the shoreline. Joey is atop the houseboat roof, hand
shielding his eyes from the Sun, which is rising over the open water,
peering out into deep water for any sighting of the island. Suddenly
Joey is animated, pointing with one arm and calling back over his
shoulder to Finegan.
I see it! I think I do. Ahead and to the right.
______________________________
The houseboat is approaching the island where the seamstress and the
other deaf/mutes lived, working with sheep and wool and gardening at
the Institute for the Deaf. The island looks smaller than when visited
last, over a year ago. The water level has risen. But the buildings,
which were atop the hill, are still above water. No sheep can be seen
grazing on what is now a limited grass area around the remnants of the
main Institute buildings.
The seamstress, carrying a bundle in her arms, can be seen running down
the slope toward the spot where the houseboat will be mooring. There is
a rowboat with oars pulled onto the shoreline there also. Finegan is
walking across the gangplank toward the seamstress, who is standing on
the shore. The seamstress is smiling broadly, very happy, with tears in
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her eyes. She holds the bundle forward slightly, with both hands. A
four-month-old baby girl is in the bundle, looking up at her mother and
waving her free arm a bit. Finegan is choked up.
Oh my . .
The baby suddenly jerks its head in Finegan’s direction, looking
startled. Finegan smiles and looks at the seamstress.
It can hear! . . Ah, not an it . . a boy or a
girl?
The seamstress is placing the baby girl into Finegan’s arms. She points
to the baby and then to herself, meaning, a girl. Finegan is all
smiles, goggling and cooing to the baby, who is cooing and blowing
bubbles in kind.
A deaf man is walking down the path, carrying a suitcase and a bundle
of cloth diapers. He has a smile on his face also. He begins telling
Finegan the story, in sign language. He puts the suitcase and bundle of
diapers down, and motions in a sweep from the hilltop to land,
indicating that everyone moved to the mainland. He points to the water
then raises his hand slowly, indicating that the water kept rising.
The deaf seamstress, seeing that Finegan is looking over her shoulder
steadily, only now becomes aware that the deaf man has arrived. She
turns to watch his story too. The deaf man points to the seamstress,
then frowns and crosses his arms, shaking his head in the negative,
meaning that she had refused to go. He points to Finegan, then to the
seamstress again, holding his hand over his eyes and scanning the
horizon, indicating that she was waiting for Finegan to return. Finegan
says,
Well, we’re here now, and not leaving until she
comes along.
Joey has come round behind Finegan, a big smile on his face too, and
picks up the suitcase and bundle of diapers, taking them onboard. The
deaf man points to the rowboat nearby, then points to himself, then a
sweeping gesture from the mainland to the seamstress, then opening his
arms to encompass her and himself swooshing back toward the mainland.
He is relaying that he came for her. Finegan smiles affectionately one
last time at his baby girl, then hands her back to her mother, stepping
toward the rowboat.
We’ll take this along.
Finegan points to the deaf man, indicating with a wave of his arm that
he should get onto the houseboat.
______________________________
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As the houseboat approaches a narrow inland bay, the dark, dead trunks
of trees can be seen sticking up here and there at the entrance. Waves
are slapping the pontoons of the houseboat, the wind is starting to
whistle. The sky is darkening. Joey is standing on the roof in his
usual position, his clothes starting to whip now and then in the wind.
He is signaling Finegan, pointing to the water to the side and
motioning with his hand to move in the other direction when he sights a
flooded tree that could snag the houseboat.
The seamstress and the man who vacated the island had been sitting in
the rear, facing Finegan, but now go into the house on the boat. The
seamstress covers the baby’s face with the blanket edge. The baby can
be heard starting to cry due to the wind in its face.
The houseboat is now moored well into the inland bay, where the
waterway is so narrow the houseboat barely made it between the flooded
trees. Finegan is tying the houseboat as well as mooring via the
grappling hooks, anticipating a hurricane. The gangplank has been
lowered.
The seamstress and baby are hustling up the hill toward a farmstead in
the shelter of the hills. Joey is carrying her bundle of diapers and
the deaf man from the island is at the lead, carrying the suitcase.
Their clothes can be seen blowing in the wind now and then, but not to
the extreme as out on the open water. Finegan is pulling the gangplank
back onto the houseboat and jumping down into shallow water, wading
ashore, hustling to catch up to the group going up the hill.
______________________________
Twenty or so people are huddled under the shelter of a barn roof, which
has been hoisted up by posts to form a large lean-to. The group
includes children of all ages. The straw that had been in the upper
floor of the barn has spilled out onto the ground, so forms a soft
seating area. Twenty or so sheep are also huddled under the roof, to
one side, a section of fence pulled around them. This fence had been
pulled from a field, is made of posts and wire fencing between the
posts, and has been rolled up to make it portable.
The sheep are lying down, almost on top of one another, and include
spring lambs. Blankets have been thrown on top of the straw in the
seating area for people. The people are likewise very crowded, trying
to stay out what is becoming hurricane force winds and torrential
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rains. The wind can be heard whistling and moaning amid the thunder of
raindrops on the roof.
The seamstress is in the middle of the group, which includes normal
folk as well as the deaf that came from the island. Several women are
crowding around her, admiring the baby and cooing at the baby. There is
a particularly strong gust of wind and the seamstress pulls the blanket
up over the baby’s head, moving her body to shield the infant. Finegan
is to the open edge of the lean-to, trying to pull some planks up to
create a windshield. He finally gives up as the planks keep blowing
down, and comes to join the group huddled further in under the roof.
______________________________
The storm has blown over and sunlight can be seen beyond the shade
inside the homestead barn. Birds are singing again. The seamstr
ess is
sitting alone on a blanket in the middle of the straw, nursing her
baby. The afternoon sunlight is shinning into the barn, so mother and
child are in a beam of sunlight. The sheep have been released to return
to grazing, and no one else is around. It is a madonna and child
moment.
______________________________
Finegan and Joey are being given a tour of a community of survivors,
numbering around 300 folks. This is a rural area, so the makeshift
homes are of various materials and styles. One has stacks of used tires
for walls, with a piece of plywood over the top as a roof. Over the
plywood is a tarp, to keep it all waterproof. The doorway is simply
open, with a cloth tied up at top to be dropped at night for privacy or
for warmth. This is true of a couple window openings on either side,
where the top tires are missing but a cloth can be dropped as a
curtain.
Several homes are bermed into a hillside, a former pasture. The earth
that has been dug out is used to form walls on the open side of the
houses, hobbit style. The walls are braced by various boards taken from
the sides of collapsed barns or farm buildings. Doors and window frames
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from these buildings are in place, packed with dirt all around. The
roofs are sections of tin roofs, likewise scavenged from collapsed
farmhouses. One of the bermed homes has a complete corner taken from a
farmhouse, moved to form this corner.
Yet another house has been formed by parking several cars and vans into
a rectangle, with an open communal area inside these cars. The communal
area is covered by planks taken from a collapsed barn, rough wood with
a piece of straw here and there stuck to the boards. The car doors are