Deep Terror
Deep Terror
Aura Thundera
deonii@yahoo.com
*
Disclaimer: The characters of Jaws are not my
creation.
Many thanks to whoever posted the info about
the movie "The Car" to the Jaws discussion forum. They provided the
inspiration for this story. Heh. I do believe this movie was
directed by the stepfather of my favorite singer. It really is a
small world after all, ain't it?
*
Waves crashed on the sand of
the beach, the sound lonely in the post-vacation-season quiet. Martin
Brody drove along the road in the October silence, enjoying the solitude.
For a few months, Amity would be a quiet place without tourists or the
crime they seemed to bring along.
A few months without any tourists
being eaten-or thinking that they were. The shark was dead and gone,
and there was no reason for another shark to return. But that did
not stop teenage boys from screaming their heads off and jerking around
as though they were being eaten.
There was precious little the
police chief could do about pranksters that were on the beach one day and
home the next.
And that, that was what worried
him. How were they to know if it were really a joke, or if another
shark had wandered to the island, perhaps with revenge in its piscine mind?
It worried him a lot, nagged
at him, gnawed away at his mind. What if? What if another shark
came to Amity? What if a whole family of sharks came and started
breeding offshore? What if? What if?
Martin had sucessfully hidden
his fear and worry from his wife and family. But how long could he
keep hiding his worries from them?
He knew that his sons wer picking
up on his nervousness. Michael steered clear whenever he could, and
Shaun pushed away whenever Martin tried to hold him.
Martin saw his house looming
up ahead. Now he had to put on a smile and pretend that everything
was okay. Using his heel, he quickly pushed the bottle of Jack Daniels
far under the seat. He hadn't been drinking it, but Ellen didn't
need to find it, either.
The screen door smacked shut
behind him. Michael ran out yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Dad's home!"
Ellen rushed out of the kitchen
and gave him a hug. "Did you have a good day?"
I haven't had a good day
since that dratted shark munched on Chrissie Watkins, Martin thought,
but grinned and said, "Yeah, all we had to deal with was a few guys
who had too many beers down at Quincy's Tavern. They busted up a
fence, and the owner pressed charges."
Ellen laughed. "I had
to deal with a pair of Californian millionaires who wanted a summer place.
This or that, they were never satisfied. This one is too small, the
next too big, that one too dark."
The family sat down to dinner.
Martin didn't enjoy the little tidbits of family news. It was too
difficult to hide the fear that was a part of him now. He supposed
that that fear would always be there, and someday he'd have to tell the
truth. But not today.
Shaun and Michael were asleep.
Ellen was watching a movie on the television, but it wasn't terribly good.
It was about a car that menaced innocent pedestrians and bicyclists.
Martin was sweating.
He didn't like this movie, not at all. It was too close to the way
that the shark had been preying on innocent swimmers on the beaches.
Martin leaned over and turned
the TV off. Ellen gave him an offended glare before noticing the
nervous look in her husband's eyes. In that instant, Ellen knew what
was wrong.
Oh, she had been afraid herself.
But it had passed in time, and she could lead wealthy vacationers around
the houses that the real estate agency was handling without envisioning
them in the teeth of a monstrous shark now.
But how many times worse the
fear must have been for Martin? Martin who felt responsible for every
life that had been lost to that shark? Martin, who had been responsible
for those people's safety, and did not realize that some things just happened.
Ellen never saw her husband
shed a tear for any who had died to fill the belly of the finned terror.
Not for Chrissie Watkins, not for Alex Kintner, not for the Amity scoutmaster
or Quint.
And maybe that was the problem.
But she would say nothing until Martin was ready. Ellen decided to
divert Martin's attention. She slid her hand under his shirt to caress
his chest through his undershirt.
It worked.
"Not here," Martin whispered,
leading her toward the bedroom.
Ellen willingly followed, then
shoved Martin down on the bed and shut the door. Moonlight streamed
in through the window.
Ellen joined Martin on the
bed, and quickly got his shirt and undershirt off. Martin sat there
in the moonlight, the light giving his bare, handsome chest a silver sheen.
One moment Martin's lips were
warm on Ellen's, and the next instant, he was gone. Two feet of chill
air separated them, and tears dripped down Martin's face.
So he's finally letting
it out, Ellen thought. "Come on, Martin, let go. Come here,"
she whispered.
Ellen knows, Martin
thought.
I wonder when she figured it out. It was probebly that
blasted movie. It rattled me, and it must have shown.
Martin leaned over, and Ellen
clutched his head to her chest and let him cry. Martin finally released
all the fear, pain, and hate that he had kept close to his heart for too
long.
At last, Martin's wracking
sobs died away into the silence.
Ellen managed to whisper out,
"I'm glad you finally let this out. I love you too much to watch
you lose your mind to fear."
"And I love you," Martin said,
raising his lips for a kiss. But before Martin and Ellen could indulge,
there was a knock at the door, and Shaun appeared in the doorway.
"Mommy, I had a bad dream,"
Shaun said. "There were sharks falling from the clouds and one of
them ate Daddy."
"Daddy's fine," Ellen said.
"Here, why don't you crawl in between us. Then you can feel that
Daddy is still here."
Shaun obligingly crawled between
Ellen and Martin. As their son curled up, Ellen gave Martin a rueful
look.
"Another night, sweetheart.
There will always be another night," Martin whispered.
