“Let’s get inside,” I say. “Maybe he’ll think the boat’s empty and move on about his business.” But who’d have business down this little backwater where there’s nothing around?
“Maybe it’s just somebody out squirrelin’,” Camellia says hopefully. “Maybe he’d give us one for dinner if we’re nice.” She knows how to be sweet when she wants to, when somebody’s got sugar candy to hand out or fry cakes to share around a campfire.
“Zede told us to keep quiet. And Briny’d tan us good if he found out.” Briny’s never tanned any one of us, but he threatens it sometimes. The idea worries Camellia enough that she hurries across the porch with me, and we go inside.
We bar the doors and climb up in the big bed and pull the curtain and wait and listen. I think I can hear the man walking onshore. Then I think he must’ve left. Maybe he was just a hunter or a hobo—
“Hallooo, the boat!”
“S-s-shhhh.” My voice trembles. Wide, worried eyes turn my way. You grow up on the river, you know to be mindful of strangers. The river’s a place men take to sometimes when they’re running from the bad things they done someplace else.
Camellia leans close. “That ain’t Zede.” Her whisper ruffles the fine hairs on my neck.
The hull rocks a little. Someone’s trying the plank.
Lark scoots close, and Fern crawls into my lap, her cheek pushing against my heart.
The Arcadia sways toward shore, tipped by the man’s full weight. He’s big. Whoever he is, Silas isn’t any match for him.
I push a finger to my lips. The five of us freeze the way fawns do when the doe leaves them behind so she can go feed.
The man is on the porch now.
“Halloo, the boat!” he says again.
Go away….There’s nobody here.
He tries the door, the handle turning slowly. “?’Loo, in the boat?” The door hits the bar and can’t go farther.
A shadow hovers in the square of window light on the shanty floor. A man’s head, the outline of a hat. There’s a stick or a bat in his hand. He taps it against the glass.
A policeman? I’m afraid it is. The police come after shantyboat folk when they feel like it. They raid the camps, rough up the river rats, take what they want, send us on our way. That’s one reason we always tie up by ourselves unless Briny’s got some particular need for other people.
“I help you, Officer?” Silas’s voice stops the stranger as he crosses to the other window to look in. Their shadows stretch along the floor together, one a head longer than the other.
“You live here, son?”
“Nope. I’z just out huntin’. My daddy’s over yander a ways.”
“Some children live here?” The voice isn’t hateful, but it means business. What if Silas gets himself arrested for lying?
“Don’t reckon I know. I just now seen the place.”
“That so, is it? Think you might be handing me a fib there, little river rat? I heard you talking to somebody on this boat.”
“No, sir.” Silas sounds sure as sunrise. “I seen these people go off in a skiff…oh…couple hours ago maybe. Must’ve been somebody down in the river camp you’z hearin’ just now. Sound goes a long ways on the river.”
The man takes a quick step toward Silas. “Don’t tell me about the river, sonny boy. This is my river, and I been hunting these kids half the mornin’ on it. You get them to come out, so I can take them into town to their mama and daddy.” When Silas doesn’t answer, the officer bends close, their shadows connecting at the face. “Sonny boy, I’d sure hate to see you land yourself in trouble with the law. How’d you get that shiner on your eye anyhow? You been into somethin’ you shouldn’t be? You got folks lookin’ after you, or you a stray?”
“My Uncle Zede. He looks after me.”
“I thought you said you came out here hunting with your daddy.”
“Him too.”
“You lie to a policeman, you’ll find yourself in jail, river rat.”
“I ain’t lyin’.”
I hear other voices nearby now. Men yelling in the woods and a dog barking.
“Tell the kids to come on out. Their mama and daddy sent us after them.”
“What’s their daddy’s name, then?”
Camellia and me look at each other. Her eyes are big as walnuts. She shakes her head. She’s thinking the same thing I am: Briny wouldn’t send the police here, and if he did send them, they would’ve known right where to find the boat.
What does this man want with us?
We stare out the gap in the curtain as the big shadow lifts the little one up by the shirt collar. Silas coughs and gags. “Don’t you sass-mouth me, boy. I didn’t come for you, but you gimme any more trouble, we’ll just take you with us. You’ll see where scrawny little guttersnipes like you wind up in this city.”
I’m out of the bed before Camellia can latch on and try to stop me. “No! Rill, no!” She grabs at my nighty, but it slips through her fingers.
When I open the door, the first thing I see is Silas’s feet dangling six inches off the deck. His face is purple. He tries a punch, and the officer just laughs. “You want at me, boy? How about we put you under that water a minute or two and cool you off.”
“Stop! Don’t!” I can hear other men coming. There’s some onshore, and off the starboard there’s a motorboat rumbling up. I don’t know what we’ve done wrong—other than being river gypsies—but we’re caught for sure. It won’t help for Silas to get himself killed or hauled off with us.
The officer drops Silas all at once so that he lands against the shanty wall, hitting his head hard. “Go on, Silas,” I say, but my voice shakes so bad the words are barely anything. “You go home now. You ain’t even supposed to be here. We want to go see Mama and Daddy.” I figure it’ll go better if we cooperate. By myself, I might be able to jump off the porch and get away to the woods before the men could catch me, but with my little sisters and Gabion, there’s no way it’d work. One thing I know about Briny is he’d want us to stick together, no matter what.
I straighten my back, look at the police officer, and try to be as grown up as I can.
He smiles. “That’s a good girl now.”
“Is my daddy okay?”
“Sure he is.”
“And my mama?”
“Real fine. She asked for you to come visit.”
I don’t even have to see in his eyes to know that’s a lie. It ain’t possible that Queenie’s real fine right now. Wherever she is, she’s heartbroke about the babies.
I swallow hard and feel it go all the way down, sharp like a piece of ice chipped fresh off the block. “I’ll get the other kids.”
The officer steps up, grabs my arm like he means to stop me. “Ain’t you a pretty little river rat?” His tongue slides across his teeth, and for the first time, he’s close enough that I can see his face under the shiny hat brim. His eyes are gray, and they’re mean, but they’re not cold like I thought they’d be. They’re interested, except I don’t know why. His look moves from my face down my neck toward the shoulder that’s hanging out of the nightgown right now. “Somebody oughta feed you up a little.”
Behind him, Silas wobbles to his feet, blinks, and staggers. He settles a hand on the axe that’s standing by the woodpile.
No, I try to say without saying it. Doesn’t he hear the men down shore and the motorboat coming closer?
From inside the shanty, there’s a soft, high squeak, just loud enough that I catch it. The outhouse door. Camellia’s trying to sneak away through the back.
Do something. “M-my little brother just got off the pot. I need to clean him up before we go, or there’ll be poop everywhere. Unless y-you wanna do it.” It’s the only thing I can think of. Men don’t like messy babies. Briny won’t touch one at all except to dunk it in the river if Queenie or Camellia or me aren’t there to do it.
The officer curls his lip, lets me go, and turns to listen over his shoulder. Silas jerks his hand away from the axe, stands with fists gripped at the ends of his skinny arms.
“Better hurry along.” The policeman’s lips spread into a smile, but there’s no kindness in it. “Your mama’s waitin’.”