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residents have some seed they want to share

with you. They don’t see much family these

days. In fact, not in over a year.

Then realizing what he must be expecting for supper, she whispers.

Tonight, it’ll just be vegetable soup!

Finegan whispers back.

No, no, have your usual! I’m fine with that!

Then, turning to the residents grouped around her, the manager says,

We may not have TV any longer, but now, during

these beautiful sunsets, we can do some

fishing! Does anyone remember what we used for

bait? John, do you remember? Worms. Yes, it was

worms from the garden!

______________________________

Finegan and Joey are coming through the fog, approaching the houseboat

where it is moored below the nursing home complex. Finegan has a clear

plastic bag filled with little zip lock bags of various seeds, hand

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labeled and dated. All is taped watertight. Barney is barking in

greeting, his tail wagging. Finegan says,

Better tuck this high and dry.

Joey reaches down to pet Barney, appreciating the fact that he is not

evasive as the cats were. Joey tells Barney,

You wouldn’t have wanted any of that soup

anyway, buddy. Just yucky vegetables. . .

Joey stands up and looks around for some leftovers from breakfast to

give Barney, taking them from a covered frying pan atop a box. Barney

snatches the fried potatoes from his hand and gobbles them down. Joey

says,

Just old people food. They didn’t have much.

Just dead rats.

Finegan smiles as he puts away the package of seeds, and

says,

Yeah, who’d eat a rat!

93

The Pawn Shop

Finegan and Joey are walking through a business district of a small

flooded city. The business district is above the water line, though

most of the small city and its suburbs have been flooded. The area

appears deserted and has as usual been devastated by quakes and high

winds. Shingles have been ripped off roofs, masonry buildings have

collapsed, frame buildings have been thrown sideways, and any signs not

painted on the buildings themselves have been blown about and are in

the street. Portions of the signs can be read, saying things like

“Insurance” or “Municipal” or “Handy Mart”.

It is drizzling, so Finegan and Joey are steadily becoming damp, their

clothing starting to stick to them. They arrive at a former pawnshop,

the fading sign painted on the wall above the door. The door open, and

they hear noises of someone bustling around inside. Finegan says,

Ya spose they’d have an umbrella?

The pawnshopman is rearranging shelves, moving items off a shelf,

dusting the shelf, then returning the items. For all the clutter, the

place is immaculate, all except for the pawnshopman himself. He is

short, has an extremely dirty white shirt on, rolled up at the sleeves.

He wears a gray-stripped vest, also covered with dust in places. His

gray striped pants are bagging and stretched out over the knees from

too much kneeling. His black leather shoes are scuffed, the shoelaces

flapping under foot.

The pawnshop is filled with items, so every shelf is crowded and every

corner piled high. Items line the front of the counter and are piled on

the counter top. These are all items formerly of value, when a monetary

system was in place and people were not starving. Jewelry lays in

piles, though some is placed under the counter for safekeeping.

Electronic equipment is stuffed into the shelves behind the counter,

with some speakers placed along the front of the counters. Fine

ballroom dresses and tuxedos are hanging on a rack toward the back of

the shop. Dish sets, fine pottery, glassware and crystal are displayed

on one shelf, the boxes containing the full place settings behind these

display items. Leather cowboy boots and matching belts are on another

shelf, along with accompanying items such as cowboy hats. Under the

counter in one spot are displayed metals of honor from past wars or

with a presidential seal, given in appreciation.

Finegan and Joey are gawking, looking around in amazement as they

slowly walk down the middle of the shop, between the counters. They

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look high and low, not saying a word, taking it all in. The pawnshopman

says,

What can I do you fer?

Finegan says,

Got any umbrellas?

The pawnshopman says,

None of those, but got a sale on over here . .

He walks over to a counter top piled high with video games.

Half price, today only.

Finegan says,

But we got no electricity!

To which the pawnshipman replies,

It’s coming back.

Both Finegan and the pawnshopman stop the conversation and just stare

at each other at this point, as Finegan is stunned at this delusion and

the pawnshopman does not want to get into details. Finegan leans an

elbow on the counter, leaning toward the short pawnshopman who is

standing proudly behind his wares, fingertips resting on the counter

edge and back ramrod straight.

How do you figure? You must know something I

don’t.

To which the pawnshopman replies,

Yez sireee, it’s coming back. When they come

through here laying new lines and roads, we’ll

all be back in business again. Yez a matter of

time.

Just then a man wearing his Sunday best, suit and bow tie and shined

shoes and hat walks into the pawnshop. He is carrying a small wooden

box, which he sets on the counter. He opens it carefully and music

plays. He almost visibly breathes a sigh of relief, as though he had

expected it might not work right. He looks at the pawnshopman, who

says,

Not much call for these, but it is a beauty.

What you looking for?

The man in his Sunday best looks a bit worried as he is going to try

for food instead of the usual – cash.

I’d trade for a sack of flour for the mizzus.

The pawnshopman replies,

None of that, but I do have a sale on over

here.

He gestures at the pile of video games.

______________________________

95

Finegan and Joey are walking away from the pawnshop, followed closely

by the man in his Sunday best who has several video games in his hands.

Finegan turns on his heel to address the man, still fascinated by the