by Nancy Lieder
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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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‘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
