Many Rivers to Cross

30

30 P woke to the sounds of a man drowning. In his struggle to untie the lamp cords, Maceo had tipped over sideways with a loud splash, still bound securely, and now thrashed about under three feet of water, choking and fIghting to raise his head above the surface. PJ thought alxmt letting him drown. One less hassle to deal with. He thought about it for several seconds while Maceo bubbled underwater. Nter careful deliberation, he pulled the sleeping Edgar onto his shoulder, slid off the kitchen counter, and waded over to drag Maceo upright. Vertical again, the pimp gagged and spit rust-colored water and labored to catch his breath. The cords had come loose across his chest and PJ figured the odds were fifty-fifty he would've worked his hands free before he drowned. "Going for a swim, Maceo?" He could understand why the man had tried to break loose. The floodwater had risen nearly to his shoulders. "Bust a cap in my head and get it over with," Maceo said, water dripping from his nose and chin. PJ turned and looked for the .44 magnum. It was still resting on the counter next to the sink full of dirty dishes. "I'm hungry, Mistah Man," Edgar said with his face nuzzled against PJ's neck. Baby Darius had begun to cry. Jasmine was awake now, too, rocking the child to shush him. She stared at PJ through dark eyes hooded with sleep. "They all hungry," Maceo said, chuckling and shaking his head. "What you gone do now, hero? Take us all to IHOP for pancakes?" With Edgar's skinny anns clinging to his neck, PJ waded over to the sink and stared out the grimy window. The first signs of morning light had appeared at last, and he could see that the flood had deepened in the backyard. There was movement to the water, a slow toiling current, more river than lake. Garbage cans were floating among the broken tree limbs and sections of fence and clumps ofdebris. Was that a dead body out near the fence line? "What you go by?" Jasmine asked him. She was rocking Baby Darius and staring out the kitchen window at all the water. PJ hesitated. "Mistah Man," he said. Edgar giggled. "He name Mistah Man," he said. ''All right, Mistah Man," Jasmine said without a trace of humor, "what you planning to do?" She sounded like a grown woman again, demanding and impatient, her attitude masking fear. He knew what she was thinking. Now that it's a new day, what's going to happen to me and my little brothers? "That's what I'm talking about," Maceo said with a brutal laugh. "You got something in mind, hero? 'Cause my side feels like I got shanked where you hit me and I'd like to get the fuck on out of here while I can still walk." PJ knew there was only one smart thing to do now that it was daylight. He should leave all this behind before the hacks came hunting for him again in their motorboat. If he could keep his head above water, he would make his wayan down to his old girlfriend's neighborhood below the Garden District, in what they called the Irish Channel, and hotwire a ride somebody had left in their driveway . That ride was going to be his ticket out of this fucking town. "I'm hungry, Mistah Man," Edgar said for maybe the fifth time since he'd opened his eyes. Darius was still squalling, despite his sister 's attention, and she kept one eye on PJ, expecting an answer. But he didn't have an answet: He didn't know what to do with these little shit turds. Leave them up on the roof and hope a helicopter would spot them? He imagined that his sister had evacuated with her two children 225 226 and they were all sleeping safely under dry sheets this morning at Pops's farm outside Opelousas. She'd always been the responsible one, too sharp to get caught up in a nightmare like this. He wondered what Dee would do if she was standing in his shoes right now, gazing out a window at the flood rising up over everything he could see. He watched a broken section of white fence bobbing in the slow current. Ifhe had a...