The creek felt hot. He sat there soaking his feet and gibbering, a sound not quite crying that echoed from the walls of the grotto like the mutterings of a band of sympathetic apes. THE HIGH SHERIFF OF SEVIER County came down the courthouse steps as far as the last stone above the flooded lawn and gazed out over the water where it lay flat and gray and choked with debris, stretching in quiet canals up the streets and alleys, the tops of the parking meters just visible and off to the left the faintest suggestion of movement, a dull sluggish wrinkling where the mainstream of the Little Pigeon river tugged at the standing water in the flats. When the deputy came rowing across the lawn in the skiff the sheriff watched him with slowly shaking head. The deputy swung the rear of the skiff about and back oared until the transom banged against the stone landing. Cotton, you a hell of a oarsman. You goddamn right. Where the hell you been? The oarsman stayed the oars, the boat dipped heavily. You goin to ride standin up like Napoleon? Reason I'm late I had to give Bill Scruggs a ticket. A ticket? Yeah. I caught him goin up Bruce Street speedin in a motorboat. Horseshit. The deputy grinned and dipped the oars. Ain't this the goddamnedest thing ever you seen? he said. Rain drizzled lightly. The sheriff peered out at the flooded town from under his dripping hat brim. You ain't seen a old man with a long beard buildin a great big boat anywheres have ye? he said. They rowed up the main street of the town past flooded shops and small cafes. Two men came from a store with a rowboat piled with stained boxes and loose mounds of clothing. One oared the boat, one waded behind. Mornin Sheriff, called out the man in the water, raising his hand. Mornin Ed, said the sheriff. The man in the boat gestured with his chin. Did Mr Parker see you? said the man in the water. We're just goin up there now. Seems like trouble ought to make people closer stead of some tryin to rob others. Some people you cain't do nothin with, the sheriff said. Ain't that the truth. They rowed on. Take care, said the sheriff. Right, said the man in the water. They rowed into the hardware store entranceway and the deputy shipped the oars. Inside by lamplight people were moving about sloshing heavily through the water. A man climbed into the showcase window and peered out at the sheriff through the broken glass. Howdy Fate, he said. Howdy Eustis. Biggest thing they took was guns. That's what they take. I don't even know how many. I expect we'll find stuff missin for a year. Can you get the numbers on em? Not till the waters recede. If they ever do. The inventory sheets are in the basement. Well.
It's supposed to clear tomorrow. Although at this point I really don't give a shit. Do you? It's the worst I ever saw in my time, the sheriff said. It was supposed to of flooded in 1885 they said the whole town was under water. Is that right? So I've heard, said the deputy. I know it's burned down about a half a dozen times, said the storekeeper. You reckon there are just some places the good lord didn't intend folks to live in? Could be, said the sheriff. He's got a bullheaded bunch to deal with here if it's so though, ain't he? Damned if he don't. Anything I can help ye with?. Naw, hell. We're tryin to salvage some of this stuff. I don't know. It sure is a hell of a mess. Well. When you get those numbers let me have em. They'll most likely show up over in Knoxville. I'd rather have the sons of bitches that stole em as have the guns back. I know what you mean. We'll do our best. Well. Well. let me get my inboard cranked up here and we'll go pick up the mail. . The deputy grinned and dipped the oars into the gray water among the bottles and boards and floating fruit. I'll talk to you later, Fate, said the storekeeper. Okay Eustis. I hate it about your bein broke into. Well. They rowed on up the street and beached the skiff on the front steps of the post office and went m. Mornin Sheriff Turner, said a pleasant woman from behind the barred window. Mornin Mrs Walker, how you? Wet. What about you? Ain't this somethin? She eased a bundle of mail beneath the bars. This it? That's it. He leafed through the mail. You ever find any of them people missin from them cars? When we find one we'll find em all. Well when are ye goin to find the one? We'll find em. I never knew such a place for meanness, the woman said. The sheriff smiled. It used to be worse, he said. Rowing back down Bruce Street they were hailed from an upper window. The sheriff leaned back to see who'd spoke, eyes squinted against the fine rain. You goin to the courthouse, Fate? Sure am. How about a ride? Come on. Just let me get my coat I'll be right down. An old man appeared at the top of a flight of stairs that ascended the side of a brick store building. He shut the door behind him and adjusted his hat and came down the steps with care. The deputy backed until the rear of the skiff came up against the stairs and. the old man, taking a vicious grip on the sheriff's shoulder, stepped in and sat down.