All around me, people moaned and cried. They lay in bed, the slightest move causing them to retch. Jase and Clutch took turns at my bedside. They helped me and the others without rest. Since neither had eaten the catfish, they hadn’t gotten sick. They were in the minority. Thirty-three residents had eaten the tainted meat. They kept all of us in barge Number One and had opened the bay door to let in fresh air. By night, I finally regained some semblance of myself. I felt like I had one foot solidly in the grave, but I’d lived to see another day. Others weren’t so fortunate. I’d seen Mrs. Corrington covered with a sheet and carried out. What a miserable way to die. Clutch squeezed water from a rag into my mouth. The other healthy people, like Jase and him, constantly moved about, checking on the sick. Meanwhile, others filled in as scouts above deck to keep watch for the herds or any signs of trouble from the riverboat.
