A houseboat. Finegan Fine

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The houseboat is approaching a rooftop sticking up above the water.

Over here. Over here!

An elderly woman is sitting on her rooftop, barefoot and clinging to

the roof peak with one trembling hand while waving at Finegan with the

other. She is wearing a summer dress, lightweight and slightly damp

around her thin frame.

Finegan lets the houseboat drift, closing the gap. He strides to the

front and grabs a large grappling hook on a rope and throws it onto the

rooftop on the extreme left. He jerks on the rope so the hooks catch on

the roof, then throws another to the extreme right, doing the same.

Disappearing into the house, Finegan comes out with a battered

stepladder. He steps up, grabs the knob at the end of the roof peak,

and heaves himself onto the rooftop.

Trust me now. I won’t drop you into the water.

In a tremulous voice, May relays her plight.

My son-in-law took the family to shore

yesterday. He was supposed to come back for me.