“No!” cried Magnolia much as Parthy had, years before. “Not Kim.”
“Why not?”
There was about the Widow Hawks a terrifying and invincible energy. Her black habiliments of woe billowed about her like the sable wings of a destroying angel. With Captain Andy gone, she would appoint herself commander of the Cotton Blossom Floating Palace Theatre. Magnolia knew that. Who, knowing Parthy, could imagine it otherwise? She would appoint herself commander of their lives. Magnolia was no weakling. She was a woman of mettle. But no mettle could withstand the sledge-hammer blows of Parthy Ann Hawks’ iron.
It was impossible that such an arrangement could hold. From the first Ravenal rejected it. But Magnolia’s pleadings for at least a trial won him over, but grudgingly.
“It won’t work, Nola, I tell you. We’ll be at each other’s throats. She’s got all kinds of plans. I can see them whirling around in her eye.”
“But you will try to be patient, won’t you, Gay? For my sake and Kim’s?”
But they had not been out a week before mutiny struck the Cotton Blossom. The first to go was Windy. Once his great feet were set toward the gangplank there was no stopping him. He was over seventy now, but he looked not an hour older than when he had come aboard the Cotton Blossom almost fifteen years before. To the irate widow he spoke briefly but with finality.
“You’re Hawks’ widow. That’s why I said I’d take her same’s if Andy was alive. I thought Nollie’s husband would boss this boat, but seems you’re running it. Well, ma’am, I ain’t no petticoat-pilot. I’m off the end of this trip down. Young Tanner’ll come aboard there and pilot you.”
“Tanner! Who’s he? How d’you know I want him? I’m running this boat.”
“You better take him, Mrs. Hawks, ma’am. He’s young, and not set in his ways, and likely won’t mind your nagging. I’m too old. Lost my taste for the rivers, anyway, since Cap went. Lost my nerve, too, seems like. . . . Well, ma’am, I’m going.”