Free States

5. MUCHOS GRACIAS, MON AMOUR

THE IDEA OF being trapped on a raft which would put the Texas Waters between him and New Orleans was immensely attractive to Mr Oakenhurst just then. There was no way of stopping the spot, only of slowing it down with metal lures floated out from the shore on lines. As soon as the goods had been thrown aboard, he jumped from the jetty to the slow-moving deck, shook hands with Captain Roy Ornate, master of The Whole Hog, and thanked him for the opportunity to take passage with him. He did not bother to announce his trade.

He had been allowed to carry no arms aboard The Whole Hog, no razor, no metal of any kind except alumite, and so glad was he to be on his way that he had accepted the terms, leaving his gold, his piles noires, his slender Nissan 404 and all other metal goods with Precious Mary. She had loaded the raft with so much collateral in the form of fresh provisions that she had put him in excellent credit with Captain Ornate. The bandy-legged pig-faced upriver rafter had lost his original trade to the Colorado Gap. ‘Took the river and half the State with it. You can still see the spray fifty kays away.’ He was a cheerful man who apologized for his rules. His methods were the only practical ones for the service he offered, which was, he admitted, not much. ‘Still, chances are this spot’ll carry us round to Waco and you’re halfway to Phoenix, or wherever it is you’re heading, mister. You won’t be old when you get there, but I can’t guarantee how long it will take ...

‘You won’t be bored, either, mister. There’s a couple of jugaderos in the main saloon glad to make room for another. This is an easy vessel, Mr Oakenhurst, and 1 hope you’ll find her comfortable. She’s rough and ready, I’ll grant, but we have no power weapons aboard and hardly any violence, for I don’t tolerate trouble. Those who make it I punish harshly.’

‘A man of my own principles, captain,’ said Sam Oakenhurst, conscious of the loss of his fancy links. His shirt was heavier on the wrists, the cuffs now decorated with antique Mickey and Minnie Mouse figures his daughter had given him for his twenty-fifth birthday, almost exactly forty-four seasons ago, and which he had never expected to wear in public. Now that the need had arisen he welcomed it. Wearing the links felt like some sort of confirmation. Serdia and Ona had died together on the Hattiesburg Roar, trying to escape an army of half-wild blankeys released by a shiver from the nearby pens. He had been in Memphis, running a powered game for Peabody and his fellow barons who could command all the necessary colour. He had been unable to resist.

Mr Oakenhurst had never known the detailed circumstances of his wife’s and daughter’s deaths and time had put that particular pain behind him. He sensed some link between his grief and his taste for machinoix torments. He had never, after all, thought to blame himself for the deaths. They had wanted to remain in Hattiesburg where everyone agreed it felt pretty stable. For a while he had wished he could die, too, that was all. Maybe he felt guilty for not following them.

He let Roy Ornate’s little kiddikin lead him up the rickety outside staircase to his room. The urge to live was very strong in Sam Oakenhurst and not quite equalled by an urge for pain which he only barely governed these days. With relief he watched the jetty and the Ambry House slip away behind, but the look he turned on the kiddikin, even as the skinny white kid glowingly accepted a whole guinea bill for his trouble, was one of vicious and unjust hatred.

Sam Oakenhurst came out of his room and looked down at the smoking stoves and basket fires of a floating slum. Roy Ornate was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Why do these people live in such squalor, captain, when, on land, they have a better chance of dignity?’ Were they all power addicts?

Captain Ornate cleared his throat. ‘If you’re trying to fathom the pilgrims, Mr Oakenhurst, you’ll have poor luck. If you’re dining this evening, I’d welcome your company.’ He spoke with no great enthusiasm. Sam Oakenhurst guessed that Roy Ornate was not really his own man and that there was another power aboard The Whole Hog greater than the master.