FlOoD--Part Four

Hound Dog

FoUr

   At last the boat, which had been grounded for a time by Peterson's inheritance, lifted off and started to float away.

   "Last chance, me boyo," said Murphy, as the water was climbing Peterson's thighs.

   Peterson threw his bible into the boat, held his nose with two fingers and ducked under the water where he stood. Murphy stood up to look at the spot where Peterson had disappeared. Brown told him to sit down before he tipped the boat over and Murphy sat, still craning his neck at the ever-widening ripples. Then Peterson stood up holding a handful of mud and small stones. He packed this into his pants pocket as deep as it would go. Then he put his fingers on his nose, preparatory to a second immersion.

   "By temperance, we'll be gone before ya get back up!"

   Peterson looked at the boat drifting away, looked down once more to his waterlogged inheritance, and then flung himself at the boat. He would have missed it if Smith and Jones hadn't each thrown him an arm, which Peterson grabbed, thereby pulling them both half out of the boat. Smith dropped his brick, which landed on  Murphy's foot, and Jones being dragged by his left arm, his right flung backward, passed over Smith stretched beside him and conked Murphy in the head with his gun. Murphy's body shot up straight, tripped over the lifesavers taking up space at his feet and then collapsed on top of Brown who fell backwards off his seat, throwing the urn, only recently safely reensconced in his arms,  over his head.