The Work Of The Dead: A Post Apocalyptic Prepper Fiction Series (Aftermath Survival Book 1)

by Ron Foster

  The only part of it half way painted right was the wheelhouse, all done up in glorious John Deere Green with some yellow trim. I am telling you that it was a sight to behold. Part of the reason it was so many colors was that the old converted casino barge had lots of residents owning or leasing cabins on it and like a group of old condos at the beach in Florida, the owners each had their own idea about how and what color they wanted their houses to be.

  Now in this case, paint was in short supply as well as color choices so things could get rather confused. They had enough paint around to fix up the fronts of the old sharecropper cabins that a bunch of bugged out stranded preppers had moved into. That the overseers of the formerly mostly abandoned old sharecropping plantations had used their own backwoods sense of style and colors to make them look fancy in their eyes was obvious.

  Now this unique way of painting and decorating carried on and this was particularly true when it came to the unoccupied or leased portions of the former casino barge turned riverboat where the owners also decided that they would pick their own color schemes and have great long debates about just how to use what color of what paint where when they had a little bit of one left. That they were born and bred in the Deep South, in a place where sushi is still called bait, might have had something to do with how some of it turned out. That they were backwoods country as a tater sack was an understatement. Why they lived so far out in the country that the sun set between their house and town.

  See, old Clem, who was the overall wearing white overseer of these stuck in time 1200 acres and was somewhat color blind and he had him some toy Lego building blocks when he was growing up. His black childhood friend named Bertha who lived on the colored section of the farm and did maid duty and such with her mamma at the big house was his friend and she would help him pick out what she called pretty designs with his blocks when he made something. Her describing what a color was and making up her own names for colors or patterns she didn’t know the name of kind of warped that poor color blind boy’s perspective and influenced his sense of taste on things in this colorful world.

  Clem could best be described as Bertha put it in her often heard eloquent country description of the man. She said he was his own “chamber-of-commerce” when it came to trading and was more slippery than a pocketful of pudding and slicker than a boiled onion. So with Bertha helping him decorate and complimenting him on his color choices, you got some pretty whacky paint jobs they thought looked just right.

  (Clem and Bertha’s idea of Lego Painting a house)

  The technical legal owners of this haphazardly redneck restored piece of wooden floating junk were an unlikely trio of sharecroppers turned plantation owners and a punch drunk old fighter that were trying their hand at river boat trading. Clem used to complain that his investor and part owner PD was “so confused he doesn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his ass” but he had a healthy respect for the man and his “Whoop ass” capabilities as a retired boxer.

  They started the paint job with this paint- peeling decrepit old Casino barge.

  And actually tried to come out with something looking like this to be now trying to make their living on the river.

  The river boat was supposed to be a stern wheeler it appeared but it was usually being pulled along by tug boat, as ancient as it was.

  The old rust bucket was about as hard to maneuver as trying to steer a herd of cats. It was even worse when several people wanted to play ship’s captain at the same time and fought over the steering wheel. Clem heard a commotion in the wheel house and went as quick as he could to investigate after hearing an argument between PD and Bertha confirmed his worse suspicions.

  “Now Bertha don't get yer bowels in an uproar, yer kidneys in a downpour or yer liver in a jar. Calm down now and tell me what’s going on!” Clem said studying the pair.

  “It ain`t me that’s actin’ crazier than a sprayed roach, it’s that damn PD! He won’t give me my turn steering the boat.” Bertha said, huffily snatching on the ships’ steering wheel.

  “Now, Bertha, we done plowed that furrow clean down to the bedrock! Time to rest that mule (Translation: We've already discussed this - let's move on...).

  ”You sure it’s your time to drive?” Clem asked, knowing Bertha wasn’t big on clocks and had to be told what time it was.

  “She can’t drive worth a durn! You know that, Clem, not worth a darn! We always end up Katty-wampus and woogedy when she tries steering around a bend.” PD complained loudly, trying to block her from the ships’ wheel.

  Author note: Catawampus adj: askew, awry, cater-cornered.

  Lexicographers don't really know how the word evolved, though. They speculate it's a colloquial perversion of “cater-corner.” Variations include: catawampous, cattywampus, catty wonkus. The South isn't really all that big on details when saying something is crooked.

  “I can too steer this here boat and you’s all knows it! Boy, I'm about to cloud up and rain all over you if you don’t give up that ships wheel and let me have me my turn driving for a spell. Don’t you be looking at me like that! I ain`t a scared of you none, PD! Why, I'll beat you so bad with my pokey stick that you'll feel like you were ate by wolves and shit over a cliff.” The old feisty bodacious black woman named Bertha said warningly.

  “Now, PD, I have done told you already about you getting that old woman all riled up like you do. You should have better sense; you know she is meaner than a skillet full of rattlesnakes about getting her turn at the wheel. And Bertha You can't get rid of 'em. He's like a booger you can't thump off.” Clem said trying to arbitrate their disagreement and not take sides.

  “Now, Bertha, you know that you are about as useful as buttons on a dishrag when it comes to you steering around a river bend when Jimmy’s towing us instead of him pushing us from the back. No need to get all jacked up at PD if he is just trying to keep the boat safe. Where is that little crumb snatcher girl, Rossy Ross, at anyway? She was supposed to come get me when it was your turn to drive so we wouldn’t be having this argument. Let PD steer a bit longer so you don’t get the lines all wonky and have us wash up on a shoal or something.” Clem declared, delivering what he hoped was the final judgment.

  “This here argument started long before we even got up here, Clem Bowman. Hell, you both are about as lost to our whereabouts as last year's Easter egg. Neither one of you knew a bend in the river was coming up. Hell, for that matter on a good day PD couldn’t find his rear with his hands in his back pockets.” Bertha squawked still trying to wrestle the wooden spoke ships’ wheel from PD. Now, Bertha was a big boned woman, fat some would say, but Rossy Ross her adopted white wild- child redneck granddaughter said lovingly about her the following: “She’s warm in winter and shady in summer. Clem just said too many square meals make too many round people and tried not to make too many fat jokes within ear shot of her.”

  “Now Bertha you might need to remember a few things about sharing and that pigs get fat; but hogs get slaughtered.” Clem began before an outraged Bertha took him to task also.

  “Nothing is gained by having one donkey call another "Long Ears”, Clem! If you are feeling froggy, you can come on and jump too! (means If you want to fight . . . make a move!)” Bertha declared.

  Clem remembered his grandfather saying once that “Even a fish wouldn't get caught if he kept his mouth shut”. So he decided to abide by that sage advice for the time being. Besides, he was a trader and as such he knew, “A diplomat is one who thinks twice before saying nothing”, could win a lot of arguments.

  If Clem had decided that shutting up for the moment around one of Bertha’s hissy fits was the best course of action for some reason, well then, PD had learned a long time ago that it was probably best that he follow along and do the same, so he reluctantly let her have the helm but he stayed close by in case she got into any trouble.

  “Now, PD, you is acting right finally. I knew you had some good sense about you somewhere but I think it’s hid in your poc
ket. Clem, how is I supposed to learn something if I ain`t seeing myself doing it? You just stay close by Bertha, PD, in case it takes both our hands to turn this here big ships’ wheel but you let me do it all by myself you hear, unless I tells you different!” Bertha said taking charge of the main double sided manual wheel. This ship had some crazy steering and there were actually three ships wheels that could get grabbed at any one moment in the wheel house. This caused lots of problems when you had more than three or four people all waiting or wanting their turn to drive the ship. Didn’t matter that they were being towed or pushed, somebody was always manning a wheel. ‘A singular wheel with hands off the others’ rule, in effect. This could cause quite a few problems and lots of confusion as the tug captain steered one way and you had folks squabbling and steering the casino boat in different directions in the back. Bertha finally relented from her tirade and went back to her normal amenable self.

  “Besides PD I heard you telling one of them boys you was teaching boxing or something to one day a bit of wisdom. It was as a right smart thing to say as I ever heard of before that it was. You says to that boy you did, I mean that is, if’n I remember right how it all went, something about not worrying so much about making mistakes and just trying. You says to that boy “Don't worry when you stumble. Remember, a worm is the only thing that can't fall down.” That saying applies here to us right now I reckon, in a way. I always tell the youngins ”Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fail.” Bertha said smugly and wisely and went back to getting her hands-on experience no matter what the consequences.

  .

  The Casino barge had both “steam power steering” and manual steering.

  The side-wheeler Ticonderoga (1906) has both “steam power steering” and manual steering. This is set up so that if the steam steering engine fails for any reason, the big manual steering wheels can be used to steer the ship. The first picture shows the big manual steering wheels, locked in position, with just a partial view of the smaller wheel that is connected to the power steering unit.

  They had a model of the cable arrangement for this, if the manual steering wheels are locked in position, the steam steering engine works the rudder. If the steam steering engine is stopped, its worm drive essentially locks the cable drum into position, so the large manual wheels are then unlocked and used to steer the ship. Clever arrangement.

  The steam steering engine is really just a small hoisting engine: no hydraulics here, just steam.

  Unfortunately, for the boats crew and passengers, the steam engine part of their steering system rarely worked and they just kind of man- handled the beast of a boat around with the manual ships’ wheels and rudder.

  Clem was in charge of getting it fixed with a lot of input from everybody else but they hadn’t come up with the magic solution of making the old engine work all the time as of yet. Some of that was from the contraptions’ age, lack of parts and a better working knowledge of steam engines and some of that was from Clem saying improvise and get the sucker done and “If I tell you a duck can pull a truck, then shut up and hook the sucker up.” (A saying some southerners used when you're sure you know what you're talking about, even if someone else believes to the contrary.)

  Today the little brass and iron steam engine pump was down for more patching and bailing wire like repairs and there was no power steering as it were to assist in navigation.

  They had a rather odd system of hanging an out of order or do not use signs on little brass chains from the ships wheels not in use on this boat, mostly for Bertha’s sake. See, Bertha said the old casino barge was haunted and possibly bewitched.

  “They had found this here very boat that they were riding on washed up on the shore almost in the woods and covered with Kudzu and it hadn’t rotted much over the years.” She reminded them and then wondered out loud while looking around at lantern shadows if the original captain had died in this very wheelhouse room when it had gotten blown adrift and floated down river about a half century or so ago.

  See, Bertha believed in haints and witches. A 'haint' is a ghost, or a haunt. One thing Bertha remembered about the people who were really old when she was a kid, was that if you put a colander under the bed, the haint would get confused. It would have to stop and count all the holes in it before it could mess with you. (Her momma said that it was the same with witches and voodoo practitioners. . . People used to would often put something with a lot of holes for the witch to ponder over and count by keyholes in doors and in chimneys.)

  Thus a pair of strainers or colanders was kept in the wheel house and because that double ships’ wheel couldn’t have one of those things hanging off one side when it was in use, she would swear a ghosty or something had grabbed the other side of the wheel when she made a mistake. They assured her that the rivers currents or maybe hitting some floating debris could cause the rudder to jerk but she was still skeptical about that and never took a turn steering the boat at night. Mostly she used the boogers and haints bewitching her steering as an excuse for not being able to swing the big lumbering boat in union with the small tug boat when they were going around a bend or changing direction.

  She also had some problems occasionally with the paying guests they had taken on board. Just like some people would tell you it takes only one rotten apple to spoil a barrel, she had her own saying on that. Her and Rossy Ross picked up extra money by doing a little maid service for those rich enough to be staying in what passed for staterooms on the boat. Bertha didn’t need the money, she just liked to snoop and gossip with Rossy about the guests

  She had a saying that was kind of hard to wrap your head around what she was exactly saying when you first heard it. She would say “A bad broom leaves a dirty room.”

  This was Clem’s clue that he needed to go have his own look around and maybe hang a Horseshoe, with points upwards to stop the luck from running out on that particular person’s door if they were good or add some iron nails into the threshold if they were deemed bad in someway.

  Hanging a horseshoe above the door to any home will bring good luck to all who live there. Iron under the doorstep supposedly kept witches or evil spirits from entering.

  “Get ready to start swinging her nose around Bertha, Jimmy is signaling he’s going to give us some slack.” Clem said as they heard two short blasts on the tugs whistle.

  “I thought two blasts meant he was taking up slack? I swear you men folk change the rules sometimes like Clem does playing cards or board games. Ok, so I go hard a left to make the back of the boat go hard right PD, is that it?” Bertha asked getting ready to try to start spinning the wheel.

  “That’s right, just don’t get ahead of Jimmy letting out line and you will be ok.” PD said itching to just put his hand on the wheel and be ready to jump in and help if need be.

  “I got this; you just stay over there and watch PD with your hands in your pockets. Clem, you reminds him if necessary, I am driving this here boat solo unless I ask for me some help in the harder spots.” Bertha declared jubilantly pushing the wheel this way and that just ‘cause she could.

  “You know, Bertha, when you get our age, joints are more accurate meteorologists than the national weather service. I think we got rain in the future.” Clem declared trying to take her mind off playing with the wheel.

  “Could be Clem, spring is almost here and we be getting lots of showers hopefully.” Bertha replied looking up at the sky.

  “It's still colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra at night. I’ll be glad when it warms up some.” Clem declared mentally willing the boat around the bend in the river they were all watching intently...

  “You watch your mouth, Clem, before I slap you nekkid (not naked) and hide your clothes.” Bertha scolded while turning the heavy ships wheel as fast as she could.

  “We shouldn’t have much farther to go to get to Fort Toulouse if Purvis was right about his directions.” PD said.

  “He's as windy as a sack full of
farts. (Used for someone who is a blowhard/known liar.) I don’t put no trust whatsoever in what that man says.” Bertha huffed.

  “You got that right, when I asked him for specific landmarks he didn't know whether to sh-- or go blind so he winked his right eye and farted. (Used for someone who is easily confused, or otherwise dim-witted.) Clem said relaxing a bit as the boat started to slide around the narrow bend in the river.

  “Well, it ain`t like we can really get ourselves very lost. We just got to follow the current and the map until we come to where three rivers converge and that will be the fort where the big rendezvous is being held.” Bertha said looking at a road map tacked to the wall that they used to try to guesstimate where they were at as a nautical map.

  “The President on the radio said Congress is going to be reformed and meet next month on the currency situation.” PD said fiddling with the radio to see if they could finally pick up a signal.

  “That so-called President thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.” Clem said disgustedly.