Steamboat Mississippi

Mr. Storyteller Sam cleans the lenses of his equipment as he readies for the next story session along the Mississippi.

Steamboat S.S. Pye chugs along the moontrail on the Mississippi river, Mr. Hermit M. Mandeleev at the wheel and Mr. Mendes D. Duks on the deck, doing his usual. As Sam just about finishes assembling his equipment, he calls out to Hermit without looking up from his device, still fiddling, "Hey hermit! how far ahead?" It is usual for answers from Mr. Mandeleev to not be quickly forthcoming. Some moments having passed without an answer and Sam mutters a few swear words under his breath as Duks looks on amused, drinking his favourite southern ale and smoking his usual southern smoke, resting in a chair thats a fine specimen of southern carpentry.

Sam finishes the prep on his equipment, gets up and calls out to the front again, "Hey hermit, how much more time?" This time, finished with his prep, he keeps looking out to the front waiting for an answer. Duks turns his head to look at him, then slowly towards the front and then fixed there, like a spectator at a slow motion lawn tennis training where a player has hit the ball into an abysmal wall that won't return the shot.

In due time, Hermit calls back, "next turn."

As the boat banks to the left, camplights appear at the riverbank, Duks steadies himself and his chair and rubs the end of a cigarette into a pile of dead cig butts in the mug he has for an ashtray. Sam moves to the front of the boat, looking out at the Confederate Camp ahead. The year's 1863 and its the height of the American Civil War. The Mississippi has been and still is, witness to many battles between the Union and the Confederates.

The S.S. Pye is in the storytelling business. Sam has a story for all age groups, and just about every one of every other kind of groups. S.S. Pye is well known among the soldiers of both sides of the Civil War- welcome relief from the weary thoughts, violent sights of battles. As the steamboat berths at the bank of the Mississippi, soldiers gather around and Sam sets up a makeshift screen on the boat. With his device, he will then project images onto the screen, blue light seemingly diverging from the device onto the screen. And about these images, he will enthusiastically weave an engaging story. Through all the action, Duks will be in his chair, amused but continuing with his drinks and fresh smoke after smoke.

A fortnight later, moving up the river, the S.S. Pye is due for arrival at Vicksburg soon. While Sam is standing at deck, looking about at the vast expanse of the Mississippi and the night sky, Hermit and Duks are at their usual coordinates. The deck light has not yet been switched on tonight. As the boat chugs along another one of the great meanders of the river, a bridge comes into sight just ahead. Commotion at both banks of the Mississippi. Before the three can make sense of it,

Bang. One. Mississippi.

A bullet to the head of Sam.

Bang. Two. Mississippi.

One to the chest of Hermit.

Bang. Bang. A bullet to the leg of Duks' chair. As the chair topples, Duks topples too. The bottle of whiskey in his hand is smashed into pieces as it hits the deck, and Duks' head hits one of its shards as he lands. Three. Mississippi.

The S.S. Pye had inadvertently chugged right into the Battle of the Big Black River Bridge, precursor to the siege of Vicksburg. The first few shots exchanged between the men of Union Commander Maj General Ulysses S. Grant and Confederate Lt General John C Pemberton, claimed targets on the Pye.

A few days later, a platoon of Union footsoldiers found the lifeless S.S. Pye adrift at the bank of the Mississippi, a few miles north of the bridge.No alive soul was reported to have been found on the boat.