The River Boat ~ Capter 2 ~ part2 ~

Chapter 2
Part 2

the cops that night to have him removed. I thought that would be the end of it but I bet he's the one that came back to get the mother and I doubt she went willingly," George said aloud to the voice in his head.

"Listen to me now, I'm starting to talk to myself." He
slammed the map down that he had been looking at and climbed back above deck. Turning on the transistor radio, George busied himself pulling up anchor and setting sail northward. “Too much idle time can addle a person's mind”, he muttered under his breath.

That evening he relaxed and enjoyed the cool wind on his cheeks and the lights on the shore line that had begun to come on twinkled on the wavelets of the river. That night the stars were in competition with the lights on shore. The water was like a sheet of glass that reflected sky and earth so that from a distance, with the ground mist, one couldn't make the distinction from land, sky, and water. This is what he had longed for all these years. The wind, the water, and the sky. This one was a windless night and he had to use the motor to cruise up river.

It was a calm, peaceful night with hardly any other traffic
on the waterway. He felt lifted as though entering a new world of existence in time and space.

A loud bang brought George out of his fantasy with a start. His foot stepped on some thing round. With arms flailing at empty air he fell over board backwards, into the water. Swimming as hard as he might, the boat continued to draw away from him farther and farther. George screamed and
yelled half choking on the none-too-clean Mississippi water.

He heard a crunching sound and saw his boat cant at an odd angle and stop. For a brief moment the motor whined then went silent. He swam the two dozen feet to his boat. It was lodged on a sand bar. With relief he found that there was no damage to the starboard hull where it had struck the sand bar. He tried to push it off but it would not budge. Trying to lever it off the sand bar with a pole proved futile also. He would need a pull to get off this sand bar.

All he could think about was the time that would be wasted trying to find someone to help him on the almost deserted river. As if in answer to his mental plea some one
shouted, "Aye, ya need some halp thare, baye!" That was all he needed, help from a drunken Irishman, George thought despairingly, sitting on the sand bar.

He waved resignedly to the drunken Irishman to come forth.

-29-

The Irishman tied his dilapidated forty-two foot chug-a-lug tug boat to the back of George's sleek catamaran and yelled, “Saye when, baye, I'll give this old gal aver thang shas gat.”

"I just hope he doesn't pull the stern end right off of
her," George mumbled to himself, waving for the Irishman to go ahead. The sudden jerk almost sent George into the river for a second time.

"That's it, I'm erecting some railing around the helm area
after this," he determined.

"Yas sea wothy agan lad? Want a little nip of ye old Irish,
lad? Wam ya bones bafow ya go out ta sea."

"No thanks but I really do appreciate your helping me. how
much do you want for your services?"

"Nah, keep yo monay lad, yal need it fow mo than me."

George gave the Irishman a description of the river boat and
the children.

"I'll keep an eye out fow ha," he said, and winked with his
right eye then turned and departed with a roar trailing white foam behind him.

"Ya'll hafe ta bye mow alert din dat, baye!," he mimicked
the Irishman, if you intend to go another mile up this river, let alone seventy. You can day dream all you want when you're at anchor." George chastised himself. The rest of the night went without further mishap.

The sun came up in the east red and hazy-looking. If the old sailor sayings held any truth, a red sun in the morning supposedly meant sailor's warning.

George turned the transistor on to discover that the old sailor saying held true. They called for heavy rain in the afternoon and the temperature to drop to thirty-eight degrees, twenty degrees below seasonal.

He pulled into port in Chatham, Mississippi just before nightfall, weary and chilled. He had three cups of hot strong coffee in the marina's snack bar called The Galley, then ordered a side order that consisted of a quarter pounder stake, mashed potatoes, a salad, chicken broth soup and apple pie with ice cream, all for a king's ransom of $6.50. He figured he needed the energy and you don't get energy food at a Mc Donald's.

-30-

Aboard the Tamarack George closed the hatch to the hull that served as the sleeping quarters and crawled into the bunk fully clothed. He was asleep before he could even remove his hat. His dreams commenced almost immediately.

He was back standing on the sand bar and the Missy was no
where in sight. He was alone, nothing moved on the water around him. With visibility of about twenty feet all he could see was thick fog and inky black water. A light snow fell adding to his misery. He had already yelled for help until his throat hurt but there was no sign of any life on the river. His shouts sounded hollow like yelling inside a vault.

He saw something move In the distance, barely visible at first, then it slowly began to take shape as it drew closer. Someone has finally heard my pleas and are coming to my rescue, he thought hopefully at first. The closer it got he began to make out more clearly the details of
the vessel.

His heart sank when he realised that this ship had no lights and didn't appear to have any signs of activity on board. It looked like it was abandoned and drifting. It drifted very slowly towards him. Finally coming out of the fog bank he recognised the structure of the vessel. It had once been an old paddle wheeler. He thought he knew this vessel, but how could he? It had the appearance of having just been dredged out of the bottom of the river where it had rested for a very long time. Still there was something familiar about this vessel.

It continued to drift towards him until it came to rest on the sand bar. Slime, algae and mud hung from the bow in frays and tatters.

George approached the vessel warily. There was something here that was not right. His mind screamed at him to go back, to turn and run as fast and as far away from this place as he possibly could. Even though his mind screamed for him to retreat he found himself unable to do so, like his body was a separate entity from his mind.

George walked to the bow and began scraping off the name plate with his hands. An ominous feeling went through him
like an electrified wind. It read "Misty." George backed up a few feet, nearly stumbling to the ground. Of course! He had known all along what this vessel was. He had just been hoping he was wrong.

"It's the children's river boat, what had happened to it?
What happened to the children and Clare?" He found it

-31-

impossible to climb the slimy sides. He would climb up a foot or two just to slide back down to the ground. He could not find any place for his hands and feet to grip.

Dragging a piece of drift wood from the edge of the sand
bar he propped it up against the side of the river boat and 
climbed up the piece of driftwood unto the deck. The deck also was covered with the same slippery slime making it hard to keep footing.

The door to the cabin would not open. It was water-swelled.
Picking up a piece of slime covered drift wood that lay on the deck, he battered the door with it until it swung inward. The dark interior smelled of decay and some thing else he could not quite identify.

George tripped over something and fell on top of a slime covered mound. Looking down he discovered that the mound
had a human form. He reached up and wiped the sludge from the face. It was the horror stricken face of Clare.

George scrambled crab-like back against the wall. Something thumped against the wall behind him. Looking up he saw two more slime covered forms hanging there on meat hooks. Next to them, written on the wall in blood, were the words, YOU'RE NEXT.

George back pedaled and once again his back struck a wall. Something heavy fell in his lap. It was the algae covered mangled body of a baby. He screamed and once again tried to scramble away on all fours then slid and fell face first on the slime covered floor, breathless from the struggle.

There was a rasping coming from the next room, like that of a file on metal. This solitary sound grew ominously closer with every passing second. He had to get out, he did not
care to see who the maker of the sound was.

He tried desperately to move but his body refused to respond to his panicked mind that continued to scream for him to flee from this place. The longer he sat motionless the deeper the slime thickened.

When motion finally came his feet felt like they were mired in the slime that had by now risen to his knees. It seemed to be oozing in from the outside like the river boat was slowly sinking in the stuff.

A dark shapeless form appeared in the doorway to the next room. It held a butcher's file in one hand and a meat hook in the other. The hook's curved end was sharpened to a shiny needle point.

-32-

George's movements through the slime were agonizingly slow as he tried desperately to get to the door. Behind him the rasping had resumed, coming closer and closer.

The door! it had begun to close. George knew that if he didn't get out before the door closed he would never leave this cursed vessel.

In a last bid for escape he threw himself at the door. He fell through the door into a bottomless black pit, his body flipping end over end.

He woke up thrashing on the floor next to the cot in his own vessel. Hugging himself with his arms, he sat up trembling uncontrollably. Taking the blanket off the cot he wrapped it around himself. He was not sure from which he shivered the most, the cold or fear.

It was indeed cold in the sleeping compartment as he could see his exhaled breath. He looked out through the porthole to see fat wet flakes of snow falling. Putting on a sweater and a rain slicker he went above deck and cast off. No sleep would come to him on this night. Too many ghosts afoot.

The morning brought a light wind and he set sail. The temperature was still low but not as cold as it had been
during the night. He realised the air would get cooler the further north he went at this time of year but this was unusually cold for the middle of April even for this area. He enjoyed the wind, the sails and the lapping of water on the hull. He was a little tired but he felt good, He felt like he was one with the elements.

Some thing new awaited around every bend in the river. When he saw an old tug with the name Irish Rover he wondered if it was his friend from the night before.

The sun came out mid-afternoon bringing with it some warmth. The warmer temperature made him drowsy and he feared the same thing as the night before would repeat 
itself, or worse, like hitting one of the rocky banks that lined the shore line dead on or get run over by a barge.

He put into port in a little cove at a place called Colten, near Winterville, and went below for some shut-eye.

A banging on the hatch brought him out of his sleep. Opening the hatch George was confronted by two burly police officers standing above deck.

-33-

“Can I help you?," George asked in an unintentionally squeaky voice. That was all he needed now, to catch a cold.

"Yes, my name is Officer McKinley, we are looking for a
fugitive from justice, a possible murderer. We are checking all out-of-state vessels. The burly cop handed him a picture. “Have you seen this man on your journey up-river?"

"Can't say I did officer, What's his name?" George asked on
a hunch.

"Dan Everett," The officer informed him. George's stomach
went cold.

"Do you know this man?," McKinley asked him.

"Indirectly," George responded.

"How indirectly?" the other officer asked.

"I know of him through a sergeant in Morganza, that is where
I'm from."

"Are you following this person?" McKinley asked.

"No sir, I'm on vacation." George responded.

"Kind of early for a vacation isn't it? Especially if you're
heading north," the other Officer asked.

"This is the only opportunity I had to go on this cruise.
Besides it'll warm up by the time I get to where I'm going."

"Oh I see, it's a long trip and a long holiday, huh? Wish I
could do that, preferably during warmer weather of course,"
Officer McKinley responded. "Well take care, I hope you have a good holiday. Remember! if you see this man, stay away from him, he is armed and dangerous. Contact us immediately if you see him."

"Just one more question, Officer McKinley: Why hasn't there 
been anything on the news and whom is he suspected of killing?

"He's a suspect in the murder of his wife and it has been
kept from the media with the hope of keeping him from going on the run and making the hunt more difficult," McKinley responded.

"Was the murder recent?" George asked.

-34-

"According to forensics the death of the woman is nearly four months old. What is your interest in this case?" McKinley asked.

George knew he had over stepped his bounds and had to back
pedal.

"None, Officer except that Morganza is not that big of a
community and something this big usually circulates fairly quick. Since I didn't hear anything I gather it didn't happen in the community, that the murder happened else- where. what I am trying to say is I heard some thing about this man but nothing of this scope.

"Just what kind of something have you heard?," The other
officer asked.

"Only that... what the hell, I may as well lay it on the
line. If I don't tell you the whole story you'll find out from the sergeant in Morganza any way. I'm looking for his three children and my girl friend, They left Morganza on a river boat. You didn't happen to see one on your travels have you?"

"Afraid not, we don't have any reports of missing children
or a river boat. But we will certainly look in to it. Do you
happen to know this sergeants name in Morganza?"

"Sergeant Duffy," George responded.

"We already have your credentials from your registry plate,
if some thing doesn't add up, we'll be looking for you, and one last word of warning, if you see this man, don't try to be a hero. Stay away from him, he's dangerous. Call the proper authorities to handle it." Officer McKinley advised.

"Yes sir," George responded.

He knew now that Dan may be somewhere on this section of the river, he had to find the children and Clare before Dan did.

George went above deck and set sail again northward. If there were no other delays he hoped he would rendezvous with the river boat before dusk of the next day.

Memories of the previous night's nightmare came back to him. George shivered. No amount of sweaters would rid him of this chill. "Was it a premonition?," he asked himself. It seemed so real.

-35-

The sun came out and again it was mild and a good wind blew. The wind caught his sails, drawing him northward at an ever increasing speed. George sat behind the helm thinking back about his river friends. How he had, from a distance, loved to listen to the girl sing to the baby; how he had enjoyed watching them play with the little one; how he had chuckled at the little one playing with the terrier. He would sit back in his fishing boat and fantasize that they were his children.

Now all this could be lost by the hand of one ruthless man. From a distance he had seen this man in action, heard the screams and the crying, felt the pain and fear he inflicted on those around him. He had been tempted to take action on several occasions but knew that if he did he was the one that would probably end up getting charged for trespassing and or assault.

There was nothing he could do unless someone's life was in danger. There were a couple of times where he thought there was a life-threatening situation but when he had drawn closer to the river boat things had quieted down. The night of the crashing sounds and screaming he had called the police on his cell phone that he carried with him wherever
he went.

They had removed Dan Everett and he had hoped that this would end the tyranny, but it hadn't. He had come back once and had stayed for nearly a month. Things had been rela- 
tively quiet. Probably going through a dry stretch, George had thought.

Then there was a fresh outbreak of his uncontrollable rages. George had feared that this time someone may end up dead. He worried especially for the baby. The row had ended with a crash and something being thrown overboard. The mother of the children screamed and had jumped on his back pounding him with her fists. He had thrown her to the side like she were a rag doll and had left the river boat.

George had feared that he may have thrown the baby overboard
in his blind rage. He had begun rowing his fishing dinghy toward the river boat. At this point he didn't care if he got charged for trespassing it was his duty as a citizen to investigate the possible drowning of a child.

Before he had rowed ten feet towards the river boat he heard a babble of voices, then the baby cried. George let the oars drop in the water and let out a breath of relief. He had come back once after that, the night he thought the mother had disappeared. He now feared that he may yet come back again for one last time, to complete unfinished
business.

-36-

The Riverboat Chapter 2

The Riverboat

Two

George had dropped by Clare's office with flowers and
chocolates only to be told she no longer worked there, that she had quit.

"When did this happened?" George asked.

"Five fifteen Monday after noon, to be exact I remember the
exact time because I was just about to leave for home when the phone rang and I debated if I should answer it or not," the moon-faced lady behind the desk informed him. “She phoned in and said she was quitting, to forward her papers to her address, that she would not be back in. She added that Clare was taking a long-deserved vacation and she had a better job with an adoption agency when she returned. “That's as near to her exact words as I can recall. Just what is your interest in her?," the lady asked.

"I thought I was a good friend of hers, I met her a few
times at coffee shops and this was going to be our first date. It just doesn't make sense, when I left her around three that afternoon she had agreed to meet me here today. Does that sound like some one that was going to quit her job?", George asked.
"Anything is possible. A lot of people do funny things on
impulse," the lady countered.

"OK, thank you for your time. Just one more thing: Did she
enter her last job report?"

"Come to think of it, no. Just a minute, yes, here it is. Her last job assignment was to check on the Everett kids. You're the fellow that was with her on that assignment, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," George replied.

Well this is all I have of that report, the job description but no conclusion to the job report. Didn't she leave with you?" the lady asked.

"No she had to return to the river boat, she said she had
left her purse there. I offered to go back with her but she
insisted it was OK. I left after that."

George got in his truck and headed for Highway 20, back to where he had left Clare. He parked the truck around the

-21-

same place he had on that day. “Something just doesn't set right here,” he said to himself.

Climbing out of the truck, George walked to the end of the trail. At the river's edge the only trace of the river boat he could find was the churned up muddy bottom of the river where it had once sat. The roiled mud and silt from its
passage still smudged the river bottom, indicating it had gone in a northerly direction. He had one more place to check out to confirm his already forming suspicions.

At the Morganza precinct George gave the description of Clare's car, a red '93 Mustang, Louisianna licence plate EC3 X24 to the officer in-charge.

When George was alone on the road he would play a mental game of how many licence plate numbers he could memorize and how many makes of cars he could identify to pass the time. He had become quite astute at playing this game and it had come in handy in assisting the police on a few occasions.

A sergeant came back out of his office with a clip board.

"I believe you'll find the vehicle in question at the North
End Impound. It was towed away just this morning, It had been sitting at the same location on the side of the highway for two days. Twenty-four hours is the statutory limit" the sergeant informed him.

"I would like to report a possible abduction," George
announced. He then proceeded to report to the sergeant every
thing that he knew.
"You say indications are that the river boat went north?,"
the sergeant asked.
"Yes I do sir," George answered
"Would you happen to know the name of the owner of the riverboat?”
"No sir. All I know is that there were three children and
their mother living aboard but I suspect the mother was no longer with the children."

"Why do you suspect the mother is no longer with the
children?," the sergeant inquired.
"Because when ever I would go by there on the river to go
fishing farther up stream, all I saw was the two older children and on occasion I think the baby was by herself.

-22-

I haven't seen any adults there since the drunken husband left about four months ago."

"That would be Dan Everett," the Sergeant said.
"You know him?" George asked.
"We certainly do, a nasty man when he's drunk. He spends
more time in lock up than on the street, a bar room brawler is what he is. We have a list of misdemeanors on him longer than this room, but nothing serious enough to send him to the big house, but I'd lay a bet that some day he'll end up there. Haven't seen him for a while though," the sergeant informed George.

"How long will it take before you take action on this
missing persons report? Possibly two missing persons." George added.

"It could take anywhere from two days to a week. We have to
look at every possibility before we go public with something like this. Furthermore they could turn up any time while the investigation is taking place. At any rate we usually give four days for adults and twenty four hours for children from the time of report. You did say she told her superiors that she was going on a vacation?"

"Yes sir, but what about the car?" George asked
despondently.
"It could have broke down and she just never bothered to
return for it. We find abandoned vehicles on the highway all the time where the owners never come back for them."

"Thank you for your time sergeant, just one thing more
before I go, I'm also taking a vacation." George informed the sergeant.

"If your going after the river boat, just one word of
caution, If you see Dan Everett around, stay away from him and call us."

"Thanks, sergeant, George looked at his badge and added,
Duffy." George drove home and loaded his twenty four foot
Catamaran. Next he drove to his service station and asked Jim, his attendant, to take over and manage things for him for a few days, that he had other business out-of-state to attend to.

Dan Everett was on the run. He had killed his wife, Melanie, and had left her body lying on the floor in a puddle of blood in his cabin nearly four months ago.

-23-

He could not remember clearly what had happened. All he could remember was going to the river boat with the intention of making amends to Mel. Some thing had gone wrong and he remembered hitting her, that was all he could remember.

The next day he had awakened and found her on the floor dead. In a panic he had stolen some ones boat and in a drunken haze he had gone north on the Mississippi. At one point on his journey the distraction of constantly looking behind him for flashing red lights had almost brought about a disastrous end to his flight.

Looking ahead once more after such an occasion, he was forced to swerve sharply to the right to avoid a canoe that had appeared out of nowhere before him. There was a loud thud, the bow of the boat shot straight up and he found himself airborne. He had hit one of the many grassy mounds of sand that dotted the river. When the bow came down again he could see a dock before him on which sat a couple who were enjoying the evening, looking at the stars. The hull of his boat sailed mere inches over their heads. Barely clearing the side of the dock he hit the water on the other side in a spray that drenched both him and the couple.
For three days he had continued northward, only stopping
for gas and a new supply of Scotch whisky. On the last night he had run out of gas and rowed the last two miles to Helena, Mississippi. Finding the closest bar, he had gone on a binge and had picked a fight with one of the patrons. Two of the town's rough necks who served as the bar's bouncers had beaten him unconscious and thrown him in a trash bin at the back of the bar.

The next day he felt like the trash he laid in, He needed a
drink, but more urgently he needed the money to buy it. Using a service station washroom he cleaned himself as best he could and walked down to the marina where he had left his boat. Luck had it that he was able to obtain a job as a gas jockey. That night in a secluded cove, he filled the stolen boat with rocks, pulled the plug and watched it sink slowly below the muddy waters of the Mississippi.

He had a plan. He figured if he stayed sober and did his job
job well he would gain their confidence sufficiently so he could run about the place at will, allowing him to case the business for a later heist.

For five nights he sweated and shook violently. Delirium tremens nearly drove him insane during those nights in the aluminum shed that served as his quarters.

-24-

He needed a drink but he knew that if he did he would blow any chance of pulling off his planned caper.

When sleep finally did come it was filled with the night on the river boat. His fist came up hitting Mel squarely on
the right cheek. He would see her falling sideways and hitting her head on the corner of the counter with a dull wet smack, her limp body going to the floor and convulsing twice, then lying still - too still.

He knew even through his drunkenness that she was dead. He
had to get her out of there before the kids discovered it.

He picked her up and carried her, staggering all the way to the highway. Throwing her in the back of a pickup that he had borrowed, he slammed the tail gate shut then slid to the ground behind the truck, winded and crying. “Maybe she's not dead. I'll bring her home and she'll be alright in the morning. That's what I'll do.”

Dan dragged her into the cabin and dropped her on the floor not far from his cot where he would be able to keep an eye
on her. Going out again he drove the pick up down to the river's edge and cleaned all traces of any blood then returned it to the owner.

Back at the cabin he sat on the cot talking to Mel and
drinking until the bottle slid from his fingers and he fell over sideways in a dead weight and passed out.

In the morning he found her on the floor where he had left her. She hadn't moved. She was lying on her left side. All around her head was a pool of blood. Turning her over onto her back he discovered that she had a big gash on her left temple with blood and something else oozing out. He would wake up screaming, He could not get peace in sleep or
wakefulness.

Dan remained at the marina for four months. For four months he hadn't drank and felt much better, but the nightmares still haunted him. He thought that they would haunt him till the day he died. There had been no sign
of police investigations yet. Maybe they won't find her in that cabin up there in the woods. He had grown a beard just on the outside chance that someone might be looking for him. Every day he would go to Billy Cline's Bar not to have a drink, but to watch the news. Each day he came out of the bar a little more relieved.
“A week from tonight Danny, that will be the night for the
heist. With that festival in town the marina will close early and there won't be any one around except Ralph, the

-25-

night watchman." he assured himself aloud. “I'll slip him a mickey with a little added bonus and that will take care of that.”

He had watched Ralph on many a night taking his pleasure when he thought no one was watching, so Dan knew he liked his grog. He'd also have a pick of any boat he wanted for the getaway. “Where will I go? Maybe I'll go up to Minne- sota. The farther north the better.”

That night he dreamed the same dream except the end was different. In this dream he was still aboard the river boat when he discovered that Mel was dead. Ray, Sandy, and Natty stood staring at him.

"Get out of here you brats! You did this, not me. You killed
your mother!" He screamed at them, then lunged forward towards them. He stopped, something was happening, Hair grew on their faces and they grew in size like deformed apes. What used to be Ray, opened its mouth to reveal incisor teeth that could easily tear him apart. Ray walked slowly towards him saying, “I'm not afraid of you and you can't break my arm any more. You're not going to hurt any one ever again, father!" Dan backed into a wall. There was nowhere to go. He was cornered.
"Cornered like the rat you are, father," Ray Spoke as if he was reading his father's mind.

Sandy stood next to him saying, “I'll start with the torso you take the arms and legs.”

“Save the heart for me, I like heart!” Natty yelled. Dan sat up in bed in a cold sweat.

"Is it possible they may come after me for revenge?" Dan
asked himself. I wish I could leave now, this place gives me the creeps! It's still to close to home,” Dan said, shivering from the cold - or was it from his sickened conscience? “How could I have sank so low on the scale of life? I once had a loving wife and two beautiful children, a good job and good friends. How could this happen to me? Now I have nothing and I've killed my wife. Nothing matters any more except to survive at any cost and drink
myself into oblivion where there are no dreams. What kind of
monsters have I made of my children, that they have begun to
haunt my dreams?” Dan curled up in the fetal position and pulled the covers over him, wishing for the oblivion he knew alcohol would bring him.

George cruised into a marina at Vicksburg, Mississippi, as the light of dawn had just begun to creep over the trees

-26-

that lined the river. He was weary from the long journey through the night. He needed fuel and some thing to eat. Maybe he would stop for rest up-river a little further but for now he could not afford the luxury.

George gave the best description he could of Clare and the three children to the attendant at the pumps. The attendant shook his head, indicating ignorance of any knowledge
of the persons he described. George jumped onto the catamaran and pushed away from the dock, no further enlightened than when he had left Morganza, Louisiana. They apparently had not stopped any where along the way not even for fuel, he thought.

George tried to think of all the alternatives. There was always the possibility that they may have taken any one of the tributary rivers but he did not think so. If someone was running away from somewhere in the south on the Mississippi they would more likely go to the north as far and as directly as they could go, or from the north it would be straight to the south. He had one advantage over the riverboat: He could raise sail and go indefinitely
without fuel. They could not. Sooner or later they would have to put into port and refuel. He hoped it would be sooner. His only disadvantage is that he had to sleep. The two teens aboard the river boat could take alternate shifts.

On this day he had been lucky and had his catamaran towed up river by a passing barge while he caught up on a little sleep on the deck behind the helm.
"This is it mister! That's as far as I go," a voice from the
barge brought him out of his sleep. Sitting up he saw the captain of the barge throwing down his tow rope.

"Good luck mister, I hope you find those people."

"Thanks," George answered sleepily.

The barge turned into a tributary and disappeared around a peninsula. George stretched and looked around to see where he was. Coming around a wide bend in the river he discovered that he was at a place called Natchez, Mississippi, nearly a hundred miles from his departure.
He had covered a good forty miles while he slept.

"That should give me a bit of a jump, he thought, raising
the sails. There was a warm wind blowing and he sailed smoothly through the choppy river. For mid-April the air was warm, but he knew it wouldn't last. There would be cooler temperatures and rain ahead further north.

-27-

George erected a lean to of poles and canvas over the helm and controls of the catamaran to keep him dry when the rains came.

Anchoring offshore he went below deck in one of the hulls he used as the galley to eat and to study the assortment of maps he had kept for just such an occasion as this. He had always wanted to take a long voyage on his prized vessel.

It had taken him years to build his “cat boat” from scratch. Now that his dream had been completed he had never found the time or had procrastinated on his venture out with it. If they were covering around sixty miles a day and they had a two day jump over him, he roughly calculated that this would place them around Clarksdale, Mississippi. Seventy some miles up further than he was. If he sailed through the whole night he hoped he would gain on them. They would have to stop some time, he reasoned.

Being as far up the river as they were he hoped they would start to feel a little safer from pursuit and would start relaxing their steady flight northward. They would want to stop for food and maybe a little entertainment. “My immed- iate concern is, what have they done with Clare?”

He thought back to what he had learned of the children. What he had noted from a distance is that they didn't appear like the violent or druggy type. They were protect-ive of the baby and acted no different from other children their age. He had even seen them on several occasions playing with the baby, along the bank of the river, gay laughter drifting his way. The girl would sometimes sing to the baby; the baby would respond with giggles and much hand clapping. These children seemed closely knit if anything.

“No I don't think that Clare is in any immediate danger,” George thought. “What worries me is what the sergeant said.” the words came back to him loud and clear: “If you see Dan Everett stay away from him! He is dangerous.”

What if Dan decided to come looking for the children? That would place Clare in danger. He had this gut feeling and so had the sergeant, that Everett would cross trails with them. He had to get to them before Everett did.

"Why are you fretting yourself over this woman you hardly
know?," a little voice inside his head seemed to ask him. “Maybe I'm not just doing it for the woman anymore. After watching those children from a distance for the last two years, I've come to know them in some ways and I come to think of them as my river friends. I don't particularly want to see that drunken animal catch up to them. I called

-28-

The River Boat part 3

"Your mothers room, her clothes haven't been disturbed for a
while."

"How do you dare invade our home!” Ray got up and knocked his chair on the floor in anger. “Maybe I should feed you to the fish after all!", he threatened angrily.

"Please I'm not that kind of social worker, I work to keep
mothers and children together, not to separate them. If you would just tell me where your mother is, maybe I can help you."

"Lady you can't help us, Our dad came and took her away four
months ago, we haven't seen her since. I guess she doesn't care about us either!" Ray said vehemently.

"How did he take her away? She didn't go willingly did she?"
Clare asked.

"No she didn't, he was drunk, he came in with a bottle in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He was making all kinds of promises to her but she just kept shaking her head and saying 'no.' They had a fight, then he beat her up and carried her over his shoulder towards the highway. That's the last we seen of either of them."

"I don't think your mother left because she didn't love you and I think she didn't come back because she was unable to. Look if you let me go I'll do every thing I can to keep all three of you together. I can get a court order to keep you under my roof until they can find some one that will take all three of you," Clare pleaded.
"Look, lady, maybe you mean what you say but we have no
guarantee that the system will go along with you and we'll do anything to stay together. I'm sorry lady but you are taking a trip to Canada with us."

"What? Did you really mean that about Canada?" Sandy asked.

"Yes I did and we're leaving tonight before we get some more
social workers or worse, cops, come to pay us a visit. We're going to find Uncle Sal in Ontario."

"But you're not even sure where he lives," Sandy pointed
out.

-9-

"We'll find him," he said walking to a trap door at the
center of the kitchen floor. Ray lifted the trap door and
disappeared below deck.

"Were really going to Canada!" Sandy said excitedly to Natty
who was slapping her hands in here plate and letting out little yelps of excitement.

Ray turned on the flashlight and went to the engine compartment. A few years ago, when things had been better, their dad had installed a 440 V8 Ford engine to power the old paddle wheel river boat.

On one of those happier occasions their dad had taken them on trips on the old paddle wheeler. Their Uncle Sal with the rust-colored beard had been with them on one of those trips. Uncle Sal reminded Ray of a pirate. He was a writer and could tell some really good whoppers. He was jolly and enjoyed playing games with them. Before he had left he had told them to come to Canada if they ran into any problems. He said that he would be more then happy to have them come to visit.

All that Ray could recall about where their uncle lived was that it was a place near an Indian Reservation called Cape Croaker. It was on a part of a big lake called the Georgian Bay.

The engine looked rusty and unused. Ray prayed that it would start. He had tried to start it the previous week but the battery was dead. He had the battery on charge for the last couple of days. If the battery was any good it should be fully charged by now he thought. He connected the cables and pushed the starter button. Nothing happened. He pushed the button again and the motor made a moaning sound then died. The cylinders must have went dry of oil from sitting unused, he thought.

Ray took the cover off the motor and poured gasoline on
the top of the engine hoping that it would lubricate it enough it up a bit. He replaced the cover and poured a liberal amount of gas in the carburettor as well. Then he pushed the starter button. The motor turned-over once, then flames shot out of the carburettor three feet long. This was followed by such a roar that the concussion knocked him backwards into the bilge water at the bottom of the hull.

-10-

The motor was revving so high he thought that it would melt down to a blob of molten metal. Suddenly it idled down to a smooth rhythm. Ray got to his feet and jumped up and down yelling “Yes!" At least their old man had left them some thing that worked.

Ray had been squirreling away gas and oil for several months, even before their mom had disappeared, in the event that it would come to something like this. He wished it had been sooner and preferably with their mother. He hoped there
would be enough fuel to get to Canada, or as close as the river boat would allow them to get to this lake called Georgian Bay.

Above deck Ray, with Sandy's help, untied the mooring ropes and pulled in the ramp. In the kitchen Ray lifted a panel that had served as a counter, revealing a control panel and wheel behind it. the control panel consisted of a throttle lever and a big red kill button to shut off the motor. Next to the red button was a smaller blue button for the starter. Ray revved the motor and the ancient river boat creaked and groaned, moving away from the shore grudgingly.

Suddenly there was a jerk and the river boat stopped its forward progress.

"What's wrong?", Sandy asked.

"I don't know, did we get all the mooring ropes?"

"I'm sure we did,” Sandy answered.

"We must be snagged on some thing on the bottom." Ray gave
it full throttle. There was a loud snap and the lights went out. This was followed by a whining, then there was the sound of smashing glass and the whole cabin shuddered. The river boat lurched forward knocking Ray off his feet. Sandy had managed to stay on her feet and reached over and pulled the throttle down, stopping within a few feet of the opposite shore. Ray was red faced, he now knew what the problem had been.

"I think I forgot to cut the power line," he informed Sandy.
The power line had snapped off at the utility pole and had
whiplashed back through a side window leaving a deep gouge in the wall just above Clare's head.

-11-

Clare had fainted dead away when she realized how close she had come to being decapitated.

"Sandy, take 'er straight down the channel half throttle. I'm going to go down to switch the power over to the generator." A few minutes later the power was back on and Ray came up and closed the trap door. Clearing a spot on the table he set down some road maps he had collected from various gas stations in the past months.

"We're lucky that most road maps also show the waterways,"
Ray informed Sandy.

"What are we going to do with her? We can't keep her tied up
all the way to Canada," Sandy indicated to the slumped form of Clare.

"I don't know. Maybe we can leave her tied up some place
where some one will find her after we are long gone." Ray
suggested.

"What if no one finds her?," Sandy asked worriedly.

"Good point, we don't need a murder rap on us. There would
be cops looking for us everywhere then. We'll keep her with us for the time being until we think of some thing," Ray decided.

"How long do you think before they find her missing?." Sandy
asked.

"Probably not for a couple of days. Tomorrow, at her office,
they'll probably just dismiss it as her staying home because she isn't feeling well or some thing," Ray speculated.

"What if they try calling her at home?," Sandy asked.
I think were going to have to make a stop. Ms. Social worker has to make a phone call," Ray announced.

Clare was dreaming that she was again in the home of the drunken father with the Coke bottle. He had raised the Coke bottle to strike her across the face.

She woke up screaming. Some one was shaking her. She tried to fight back but her arms were tied to her side.

-12-

A voice was yelling, "Ms. Social worker please come out of what ever it is you're in. It's just us, me, Sandy, and Natty. Remember?"

Clare had struggled so violently that the ropes worked loose. She settled down but she was far from feeling relieved. She worried that if the kids didn't kill her out- right they would do it indirectly by blowing up the boat with her in it.

Ray spoke to her. "Ms. Social worker this is the deal, you're going to make a phone call to your boss and tell them that you won't be making it into work for a few days, that you don't feel good. Either that or we leave you tied up in the middle of the woods somewhere. Maybe some one will find you and maybe they won't and if you're really lucky, maybe a hungry bear will eat you before you starve to death. Which way do you want it?"
"My name is Clare and you can forget the social worker part,
I've just resigned. What would you say if I told you I'm going to go along with your little scheme and I'll help you find your uncle," Clare offered.

"I'd say your full of it." Ray replied.

"OK then, take me to the phone and I'll prove it to you.
My offer still holds, I will do every thing to keep you under my roof if we can't find your uncle."

The boat made slow headway against the current of the river. It was just a few miles up the river when darkness fell and Ray tied-up for the night to a piling near a public boat launch.

At first light Ray scouted the area and found a telephone booth at the side of the road leading to the boat launch.

Ray blindfolded Clare and and walked her through knee-deep water, up the boar launch ramp, to the roadside phone booth with one hand on her arm and the other pointing the stick at her ribs. When they got to the booth he took the blind fold off and told her to keep looking straight ahead at the phone. Clare dialed the number to her supervisor.

Hello! "Hello this is Clare Lacombe, I'm calling to tell

-13-

you that effective immediately I am resigning my position and you can mail my severance pay, holiday pay and pension plan proceeds too my home address.” There was a pause, then she said, “That's right I won't be back in to work. I'm going away on a long-deserved holiday. Thank you for every thing but I should have done this long ago."

"But Ms. Lacombe, what has brought all this on," the supervisor inquired.

"Let's say I don't care for being part of separating
children from one another and I have no desire for being beat up by drunken husbands any more. I've been offered a position with an adoption agency with far better pay and this organization works at keeping children together."

"If that is your wish you are as of now terminated and we
will forward every thing as you requested to your home address." (click.) Clare stared at the phone thinking, “Just like that.”

"I guess I just discovered that you are just a number," she
informed Ray, then said, “You can put the stick away. You won't need it any more.” She turned to look at Ray's surprised face.

"You would be wise to close your mouth there are a lot of
flies out here. If you were wondering how I knew, I saw the reflection of the stick in the glass sides of the phone booth. If you are ready, I believe we have one hell of an adventure ahead of us. Ever since I was a kid I dreamed of going on an adventure. I guess you are providing me with that opportunity, maybe the last one in my lifetime. You're going to need an adult to pose as a custodian or you'll draw attention at the ports if they see three children traveling alone. I just hope you don't blow up the boat before we get there." Clare concluded.
"Sandy meet our new crew member," Ray pointed to Clare
with his right hand.

"Are you sure? She could turn us in as soon as we have our
backs turned, I don't trust her. A social worker is always a
social worker" Sandy asserted.

"Sandy I vote we give her a chance, she's right you know,

-14-

It would look suspicious just the three of us traveling without adult supervision."

"Sandy, I know you have all the reasons to not trust me.
You're both right, for the last ten years I have seen children separated from each other, which is some thing I've always been at odds about with the system. I have also seen children repeatedly beaten to within an inch of their lives by drunken parents. Even though I don't agree with separation, in those cases I thought it was better than for these children to suffer or die at the hands of irres-ponsible and brutal parents. See this scar just under the hair line above my right ear? That was from a Coke bottle- wielding drunken father of two abused children. The mother had been beaten so severely that it was doubtful she would pull through the night. What would you do in a case like that? Leave the children in his charge? Suppose you three would have stayed where you were and your father would have come back in a raging drunken condition. What would you do? Ray and Sandy remained silent. As of now, to any one that comes snooping, you are in my custody and I am bringing you to your uncle in Alton, Illinois. Don't even mention Canada to any one. That will arouse suspicion."

"Are you on the level, lady? You are going to jeopardize your job to help us get to Canada," Sandy asked incredulously.

"My job is already history. I've had my fill with misery and
abuse to last me a life time. I should have quit long ago. I want to see the brighter side of life. I want to make sure you kids get there safely. At any rate I was telling the truth about having a good shot at working for an adoption agency when I get back. If you can't find your uncle you are welcome to come live with me if you wish to."

"Lady, we are going to find our uncle", Sandy said angrily,
pounding her fist on the helm. Ray was leaning in the door- way, staying out of the conversation. He was looking back down river the way they had come. “So long Morganza, Louisiana and as for you, (their father and mother) the hell with you both!”, he added vehemently and spat out the straw he had been chewing on. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.

He turned his back to the others and wiped at the tears

-15-

then said, "You can take a break, Sandy, once we get into Natchez, Mississippi. We'll take 5-hour alternate shifts until we get a good distance between us and...." Ray left it unsaid but Sandy knew what he meant.

When Sandy came off her shift she went to Clare who was lying on the sofa in the living room. “If you really care about us I'm going to tell you something I've never told any one before. This all started six years ago, at first it was just drunken arguments when my dad was on weekend benders. Then it progressed to breaking furniture. It
just seemed to escalate overnight to beating mom after that.”

“Mother was not a drinker until the beatings started. Her drinking just made matters worse. She tried to fight back but our dad always won out. This kept on until someone had reported what was going on to the police. Our dad had been removed from the river boat forcefully by the police that night. He was issued a warrant not to come within a hundred yards of the river boat. A lot of good that did. It only made him more violent, Claiming that no one was going to keep him from the river boat, that it belonged to him and he could come and go as he pleased. He continued to beat mom until her pregnancy. During those nine months he seemed
to have enough sense to not beat her any more but what he couldn't do physically he made up verbally.”

“Once, when Natty was only six months old, he threw her against the wall because she was crying too much.
From then on we always hid Natty when ever he was around. Once Ray tried to protect mom, he got a broken arm for his effort. He threatened to kill Ray the next time he butted in. From then on we all hid in the woods until he
would tire of beating mom or run out of booze; then he would
leave.”

Sandy continued, “There was a long stretch where he didn't come around. Maybe he's in jail, we thought, and we would pray if that were so that they would keep him there till hell froze over.”

Then a new problem came up: Mom became a recluse, she wouldn't venture outside for fear that he would come out from behind some tree or bushes and kill her. She went into deep depressions and would cower in fear in a dark corner

-16-

in her bed room all day while we were at school. She cried a lot and would rock her self to sleep in the same corner. We knew she needed help but if they took her away they would take us away, too. We did our best to look after her but she was lost in another world. A world that she would not let any one in.”

“Then he showed up drunk four months ago with flowers and promises. Our mother came out of her little world just long enough to tell him to go to hell, In response to this she got beat up till she was unconscious or dead I'm not sure which. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder and left. That's the last we seen of them." Sandy covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

Clare sat up and held her in her arms. "Go ahead and cry sweetheart, it helps to cleanse the soul."

Natty climbed down from her crib and ventured forth for
another day's adventure. Entering the kitchen Natty stopped. The strange lady was standing behind the funny wheel that made the floor move. Natty sat in the doorway silently studying the lady.

Doc, noticing Natty in the doorway, yapped happily and ran to her. Jumping on her he licked her face vigorously, knocking her on her backside, setting her to giggling.

“I see some one is up on this boat,” Clare said. Natty crawled out of sight as fast as her legs and hands could move. “It's OK honey I won't hurt you,” Clare said sweetly.

Natty poked her little head around the door way. The lady
still stood behind the funny wheel. The lady just stood staring straight ahead. Natty ventured out tentatively a little farther into the kitchen. The lady didn't move.

She made her way warily to the refrigerator. Sitting down she grasped the bottom of the door firmly with both hands and pulled on it. The door swung open and, holding unto the door, she pulled herself up and walked around the door to the front of the fridge and looked inside. She
pulled an apple pie out and placed it on the floor.

After eating her fill she replaced the pie and closed the refrigerator door and toddled off to the living room.

-17-

She climbed on the sofa where Doc joined her for a trampoline act. Throwing the two cushions on the floor she jumped on them and proceeded to wrestle with Doc, giggling loudly.

Tiring of this she toddled over to Ray and Sandy's room. It was occupied, “That's strange,” Natty thought, cocking her head to one side in contemplation. She knew that they
usually weren't home at this time of day but she was glad to see that she would have some one to play with now.She climbed on to Sandy's bed and jumped up and down yelling, “Gatap! Gatap! Gatap!”

Sandy threw a stuffed toy at Natty, and raised her head slightly and mumbled. A little later OK honey, I feel like I just closed my eyes." Her head dropped down to the pillow once more.

Natty picked up the stuffed toy and climbed down from Sandy's bed and made her way to Ray's bed where she beat on Ray's head with the stuffed toy yelling again, “Gatap! Gatap!” Ray groaned and rolled over. This only prompted Natty to beat him harder with the stuffed toy. The stuffed toy ripped open sending stuffing flying every where.

Ray choked and coughed on the stuffing and sat up rubbing his eyes. “OK, Sprite, I'm up now!” Ray got up and looked at
his watch. Hurriedly, still in a sleep induced daze, he got up and made his way toward the washroom which was just off from the kitchen. All that was on his mind was that he was late for school.

"Good morning Ray," Clare said smiling. Ray nearly melted
through the floor boards. He had not ever even let his mother see him in his under wear let alone a stranger and a woman at that.

Ray quickly disappeared through the living room door way, coming back a short time later fully clothed and his face two shades of red.

"I forgot we were, that is I forgot that, well, I, er."

"I know, you thought you were still in Morganza and forgot
about me. That's OK I've seen a few men's underwear in my time, with the men in them.”

-18-

Changing subjects Clare said, “I think you'll be glad to know that we just went past Vicksburg Mississippi." "How old are you Ray?"

"I'm sixteen and Sandy is fifteen. Natty's in her twos. She's very smart for her age." Ray said proudly.

"Did you know she helps herself to the refrigerator and
then she puts stuff back in after," Clare informed him.

"Let's say we've suspected it for a while," Ray answered,
smiling.

“You look good with a smile, Clare informed him."

Ray cleared his throat and busied himself with the maps.

"Turn on the tunes Ray, let's make this a pleasant trip."
Clare suggested. Ray was beginning to like this lady.

Turning the radio on he found a rock station whose music he let blast as loud as the speakers could manage as he began pantomiming a rock star playing the air guitar. Clare behind the wheel swayed to the music while Natty jumped up and down in the middle of the kitchen floor yelling, “Ya! Ya! Ya!”

Sandy went into the washroom and nearly slammed the door off it's hinges.

"Come on Sandy loosen up it's a great day on the Mississippi
and were going home to Uncle Sal. What more could you ask for, no more drunken fights, no more sick mother. We won't have to do all of the grown up stuff any more."

The washroom door banged open and Sandy stamped over to the radio and threw it across the room, crashing into the wall.

"Don't ever say any thing like that about mom. It was that
creep of a father of ours that made her that way." Sandy slumped down to the floor letting her hair cover her face while she cried.

"Ray please take over the wheel," Clare asked. just as Clare
was leaving he turned to her and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't

-19-

mean to hurt her but it was just too much in the end, feed-ing her, bathing her, clothing her, making sure all the bills were paid and intercepting phone calls for her. Just simply covering up every thing so no one would suspect. Some times I'd sit in bed wondering if it was all worth
it, then I'd hate myself for being so selfish."

"It's OK, it's all over now, look for the future," Clare sat beside Sandy and stroked her hair gently and talked softly to her. "It's OK honey, It's all over now. I know that was a rotten deal that you three were given but it's over. You can't dwell on the past, you have to look for the future. I've seen many children go through similar situ- ations as you have and come out winners in the end. You're a beautiful girl, you are just starting your life and you have the whole world at your feet to choose from. Don't throw it away, don't sour up to the world, please don't do that to yourself,” Clare crooned, rocking her in her arms. “You deserve more than that. Don't end up like your mother."

Immediately Clare wished she had bitten her tongue. Natty toddled to Sandy and put her two little arms around her neck saying, “Lav San, lav San.”

"Sandy pushed her hair back and embraced Natty saying, “I
love you, too, Sprite. Thanks Clare, I know what you meant, I don't want to end up like our mother. I just feel deep sorrow for her. Death would have been better than the life she lived for the last six years. I just hope you're right and this is going to be a turn-around for the better for us."

"You can't change the past, you and Ray both did all you
were capable of doing," Clare said, putting her hand on Sandy's shoulder. It was a beautiful morning. The rising sun reflected off the wavelets on the river like glittery diamonds. A few spring birds sang gaily from the budding trees on the shoreline.

Sandy busied herself preparing breakfast while Ray gathered
the pieces of the broken radio off the floor and set them on the table. The radio was an important item, it kept them tuned to the outside world and they needed to know more than ever what was going on out there. If he couldn't put it back together they would have to get another one some place, he thought.
-20-
"What are you so deep in thought about?," Clare asked Ray.

"I was just wondering how long it would be before they
discover us missing, Ray responded. “It will probably be two or three days before the school board starts inquiring, after that it will depend on how long it takes the police to investigate and find the river boat missing, let's say another two days. Add to this another day or two before they issue out a missing persons report on us. We have about a week to get as far north as we can,” Ray informed her.

"You had this scheme down pretty pat, except the part with
me in it," Clare responded.

"And that turned out to be a bonus," Ray answered smiling.

Clare hesitated for a minute then smiled back saying,
“Indeed it is.”

The River Boat part 2

at the age of eight and they weren't reunited again until seventy-some years of age."

"Do you really think that's what could happen to us?", Sandy
asked.

"Yes I do. The hardest part would be losing Natty. As mischievous as she is, she is a smart, lovable kid and I love her very much. I'd kill any one who would try to harm her.", Ray confirmed with emotion. "She's our little sister, we can't just let strangers take her away!", he said, clenching his fists.

"Look!” Sandy pointed to a blue '93 Mustang parked down a way from the trail.

"I think we have company," Ray observed.

"Maybe it's just someone that broke down," Sandy suggested.

"I don't think so, I smell social worker. You go through the
woods on the right of the trail and I'll take the left. Keep out of sight of the river boat until I signal you it's safe,” Ray instructed Sandy.

The riverboat was dark and silent. There was no sign of life anywhere around it. Natty should have been up by now, raising up a ruckus, anxiously awaiting their return from school but there was nothing, not a sound.

Ray's stomach began to knot up; something was wrong! Where was Natty? He slowly emerged from behind the bushes he had hidden in a dozen feet from the riverboat. Stooping down low to the ground, Indian style, he quickly peered through each of the windows. No one was on board. In a half panic he began shouting, "Natty! Natty, Where are you? Sandy! The coast is clear, help me look for Natty. She's not on board."

Doc came running out of the bushes yapping and jumped on Sandy wagging his tail, joyous at the return of one of his masters.

"Well where did you come from?", Sandy asked picking up the
terrier. Doc vigorously licked her face in response. Natty had been hiding behind a bush.

-5-

She had seen one of the bad people enter the river boat. The person went from room to room searching for something, then the person came out, walked down to the foot of the ramp and stopped to look around. The person had gone around the ramp then had dropped down on hands and knees and crawled under the ramp. Natty was too fearful to come out from behind the bush. She had decided to stay there until her big brother came home. He would know what to do. She played with Doc to entertain herself. Then she saw Sandy not far away, hiding behind some trees. At the sight of Sandy, Doc had jumped out of Natty's arms and ran to her. Sandy was yelling for her.

Natty stood up unsteadily and yelled back happily, “Ith he, ith he.”

Sandy turned and saw her standing by a big oak. She ran to her and picked her up, crying.

"I thought they had taken you away," she told Natty. Sandy held her tightly fearing that she would vanish if she let her go. Natty pointed to the river boat yelling, "Tha he, tha he." Sandy knew that she meant any strange person female or male. Some one was still in the vicinity of the river boat. “Ssh! OK! I understand,” Sandy said. At that Natty became silent.

Sandy waved at Ray to come to her and pressed her index finger cross ways to her lips, indicating for him to be quiet.

“What is it?,” Ray asked in a near whisper, on
approaching Sandy.

“There's someone here, very close to the riverboat,” Sandy informed him.

"OK, Natty, point for me where he is." Sandy asked Natty.

"Tha he, tha he." Natty said pointing with her tiny finger
at the side of the river boat that faced them.

“Inside the boat?.” Ray asked, looking at Natty's big brown eyes. Natty swung her head from left to right vigorously, indicating no. Ray studied the port side of the riverboat carefully, trying not to miss any of the details with which
-6-
he had become so familiar. “Where could a person hide outside near the riverboat?,” he thought, “There is only one place. Thanks sweetheart, I know where the person is.”

Ray kissed Natty on the cheek; Natty giggled. He turned toward the boat. “Whoever it is, he or she is under the ramp,” Ray informed Sandy.

It was starting to get dark. Ray picked up a piece of dry wood two feet in length and approximately one inch in diameter. He approached the ramp slowly and cautiously, holding the stick ahead of him. Stooping down he looked under the ramp. He was in luck, who ever it was had their back toward him. Ray stuck the stick in the persons back and said, "OK, whoever you are, don't make any sudden moves or I'll put a hole in your back."

Clare froze, not daring to move a muscle. She didn't want an extra hole in her body.

"OK, alright I'll do whatever you say, just don't shoot me."

"Move back very slowly and stand up," Ray ordered. Clare
crawled backwards as quickly as she could, feeling the gun
prodding her in the back at her every move. Once clear of the ramp she stood slowly and stuck here hands in the air.

"Please walk up the ramp and enter the kitchen. Sandy, get
some rope." Ray yelled over his shoulder.

"What are you going to do with her?", Sandy asked picking up
a coil of rope on the deck.

"I don't know yet, maybe I'll cut her up in little pieces
and feed her to the fish." Clare made a loud gulping sound.

"Your not serious are you?," Sandy asked nervously.

"Na! I heard it in a movie. I wondered how impressive it would sound if I said it for real. By the looks of her I guess it was," he laughed.

"Make sure all the knots are tight," he advised. Sandy gave
each knot an extra tug.

-7-

"All done. What do we do now?", Sandy asked. Natty sat on the floor staring at the strange lady.

"Well what do you think Natty? Maybe I'll let you put clothespins on her ears and toes just like you did to Doc. That would be fun wouldn't it?", Ray taunted. Natty bounced on the floor yelling, “Ya! Ya! Ya!”

"What kind of stuff are you teaching that baby?", Clare
asked in a huff.

Ray stuck the stick in her back and said, "We'll let you know when we want you to talk lady. Sandy would you make us something to eat, I think there's a dead mouse in the trap under the sink. You can fix it up for the lady social worker here." Clare felt her stomach heave at that thought.
"OK, lady I've seen enough social workers in my life. I can
smell them. do you know what they smell like?” Clare shook her head. “They smell like typewriter ink, musty paper and sweaty armpits. Were not going to let you separate us. That was a unanimous vote by all three of us. Show her your vote Natty."

Natty raised her arms and slapped her hands together above her head. Sandy set some sandwiches on the table. She then picked up Natty and sat her in her high chair. Natty cried and wouldn't eat.

"I know what's wrong," Ray said picking up the high chair and setting it in front of Clare. Immediately Natty started eating. “She wants to keep watch on the lady she had enough sense to stay away from when we were not here."

"Maybe it was the sweaty under arms that gave you away," Ray suggested to Clare.

"Hey, what do you know! Already our little sister can smell
out a social worker from regular people."

"Listen I'm only out here to try and help if there is a problem. I already know there is, your mother hasn't been around here for a long time. Clare informed them." The room went silent.
"How do you know?" Ray asked.

-8-