Chapter 9: Thirty Hands

Zuza's POV

The tow captains' union hall on Neville Island smelled of fried perch and floor wax.

A hundred and forty people sat at paper-covered tables under a banner that said MERRY CHRISTMAS, RIVER CAPTAINS.

I had picked the table by the stage.

Tomo sat on my right, with the folded route sheet in his coat.

My father sat on my left in his good brown suit.

The guest of honor sat by the door.

The man in the tan overcoat had taken the chair marked for him with his coat still on.

In front of him on the white paper sat a wicker bread basket.

It was the Friday basket. It was full of envelopes, and every one of them had a boat name written on the front in pencil.

Thirty captains had brought their envelopes with them to the supper, because he had asked them to.

That was the part I had not believed until I saw it.

He wanted them to hand it over at a party, so that he could stand in front of them like a kind uncle.

After the fish, a captain's wife stood up and thanked everyone for coming.

She introduced the guest of honor, and the room clapped politely.

The man in the tan coat rose, with a smile and a toothpick in his hand.

"Captains," he said. "Ladies. It is my honor on behalf of the Pellegrino family to wish you a happy Christmas."

"The family looks out for the river," he went on. "It always has."

"When the water is high, when the bank is low, when a man needs a friend on the lock."

"A small thing, Friday by Friday, and nobody ever worries," he said.

He gestured at the basket, generous and proud.

He was good at it. I saw several men nod.

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