fLoOd--Part Nine

In the Ghetto

nInE

   Jones found it difficult raising himself to a standing position so, involuntarily, he almost immediately seated himself on Smith's chest. Fortunately, when Smith saw Jones' buttocks descending, he swiftly shifted his brick down to his stomach. This saved him from receiving a permanent impression of this brick in the skin of his chest.

   Now Jones and Smith were occupying one bench and Murphy and Brown were occupying the other. Davis was in the water hanging on to Brown's feet. Peterson lay in the bottom of the boat and Johnson had seated himself on his anvil. Davis climbed up Brown's legs, to the accompaniment of much grumbling from their owner, and insinuated himself into the boat. He stood over Peterson and, as he was so scantily clad, he started shivering and wrapped his arms around his skinny body. Peterson began struggling to take off his long coat. However, as Davis was standing on the tail of the coat when Peterson gave it a rather vigorous tug, Davis found himself once more gently precipitated into the water surrounding the boat.

   "Excuse me," Smith said, poking Jones in the leg, "would you be so kind as to elevate your carcass for a short period of time? I am rapidly losing my ability to breathe."

   Jones raised his posterior and, leaning forward, placed his arms on Brown's legs for support. This allowed Smith to raise his chest off the seat, bring his legs into the boat and assume a regular sitting position. When Jones released his legs and resumed his seat, Brown quickly brought his legs into the boat before Davis had opportunity to utilize then for ladder service once  again.

   By this time, Peterson had writhed himself out of his coat. He held it up and said, "Someone please give this to that poor shivering lad."

   Brown immediately seized the coat and threw it over the side. It landed on Davis, who took the opportunity to slip his arms into the sleeves. So that, when he was finally assisted into the boat, he was able to join the company in style, with a sopping wet coat to keep him warm.

   By now, it was starting to get dark. Five strangers were sharing their rowboat with Smith and Brown. And no one had anything to say to each other. There was nothing in sight but water for three hundred and sixty degrees. Abruptly, into the disquieting silence, came the sound of...

   Knocking! Knock! Knock!

   Everyone was listlessly looking around, wondering where, in the vast emptiness surrounding them, the sound might have originated. Then Peterson, still lying in the bottom of the boat, said,

   "I think there's someone under the boat."

   All eyes turned downward. There was nothing to see but Peterson and the boards beneath him. But, once directed that way, all ears did seem to locate the source of the knocking as coming from below.

   Smith quietly said, "It sounds like Morse code."

   Davis asked him if he could decipher it.

   "Hold on," said Smith. "I have to wait until it starts again." Smith stamped his feet and the knocking stopped momentarily.

   When it recommenced, Smith spoke haltingly.

   "Is - there - room - for - one - more - signed - W-i-l-k-e-r-s-o-n?"

   "Tell him no," Brown spat out.

   "I'm - coming - in - anyway - but - I - don't - want - to - sit - next - to - Brown."

   All eyes travelled over to Brown and Peterson convulsed himself out from under the seats. He was convinced that if he remained where he was and anyone else attempted to climb in, they'd be sure to land some part of their anatomy on to some part of his, probably in an uncomfortable manner. So he pressed himself into the front of the boat and made himself as small in area as possible.