Peter Benchley - Jaws

“If this is how he acts when he’s sick,” said Brody, “I’d hate to see what he does when he’s feeling fine.”

“No. Personally, I don’t think he’s sick. There are other things that could cause him to stay here — many of them things we’ll never understand, natural factors, caprices.”

“Like what?”

“Changes in water temperature or current flow or feeding patterns. As food supplies move, so do the predators. A few summers ago, for example, a completely inexplicable phenomenon took place off the shore of parts of Connecticut and Rhode Island. The whole coastline was suddenly inundated with menhaden — fishermen call them bunker. Huge schools. Millions of fish. They coated the water like an oil slick. There were so many that you could throw a bare hook in the water and reel it in, and more often than not you’d catch a menhaden by foul-hooking it. Blue-fish and bass feed on menhaden, so all of a sudden there were masses of bluefish feeding in schools right off the beaches. In Watch Hill, Rhode Island, people were wading into the surf and catching bluefish with rakes. Garden rakes! Just shoveling the fish out of the water. Then the big predators came — big tuna, four, five, six hundred pounds. Deep-sea fishing boats were catching bluefin tuna within a hundred yards of the shore. In harbors sometimes. Then suddenly it stopped. The menhaden went away, and so did the other fish. I spent three weeks down there trying to figure out what was going on. I still don’t know. It’s all part of the ecological balance. When something tips too far one way or the other, peculiar things happen.”

“But this is even weirder,” said Brody. “This fish has stayed in one place, in one chunk of water only a mile or two square, for over a week. He hasn’t moved up or down the beach. He hasn’t touched anybody in East Hampton or Southampton. What is it about Amity?”

“I don’t know. I doubt that anyone could give you a good answer.”

Meadows said, “Minnie Eldridge has the answer.”

“Balls,” said Brody.

“Who’s Minnie Eldridge?” asked Hooper.

“The postmistress,” said Brody. “She says it’s God’s will, or something like that. We’re being punished for our sins.”

Hooper smiled. “Right now, anyway, that’s as good an answer as I’ve got.”

“That’s encouraging,” said Brody. “Is there anything you plan to do to get an answer?”

“There are a few things. I’ll take water samples here and in East Hampton. I’ll try to find out how other fish are behaving — if anything extraordinary is around, or if anything that should be here isn’t. And I’ll try to find that shark. Which reminds me, is there a boat available?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say,” said Brody. “Ben Gardner’s. We’ll get you out to it tomorrow, and you can use it at least until we work something out with his wife. Do you really think you can catch that fish, after what happened to Ben Gardner?”

“I didn’t say I was going to try to catch it. I don’t think I’d want to try that. Not alone, anyway.”

“Then what the hell are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to play it by ear.”

Brody looked into Hooper’s eyes and said, “I want that fish killed. If you can’t do it, we’ll find someone who can.”

Hooper laughed. “You sound like a mobster. ‘I want that fish killed.’ So go get a contract out on him. Who are you going to get to do the job?”

“I don’t know. What about it, Harry? You’re supposed to know everything that goes on around here. Isn’t there any fisherman on this whole damn island equipped to catch big sharks?”

Meadows thought for a moment before he spoke. “There may be one. I don’t know much about him, but I think his name is Quint, and I think he operates out of a private pier somewhere around Promised Land. I can find out a little more about him if you like.”

“Why not?” said Brody. “He sounds like a possible.”

Hooper said, “Look, Chief, you can’t go off half-cocked looking for vengeance against a fish. That shark isn’t evil. It’s not a murderer. It’s just obeying its own instincts. Trying to get retribution against a fish is crazy.”

“Listen you…” Brody was growing angry — an anger born of frustration and humiliation. He knew Hooper was right, but he felt that right and wrong were irrelevant to the situation. The fish was an enemy. It had come upon the community and killed two men, a woman, and a child. The people of Amity would demand the death of the fish. They would need to see it dead before they could feel secure enough to resume their normal lives. Most of all, Brody needed it dead, for the death of the fish would be a catharsis for him. Hooper had touched that nerve, and that infuriated Brody further. But he swallowed his rage and said, “Forget it.”

The phone rang. “It’s for you, Chief,” said Clements. “Mr. Vaughan.”

“Oh swell. That’s just what I need.” He punched the flashing button on the phone and picked up the receiver. “Yeah, Larry.”

“Hello, Martin. How are you?” Vaughan’s voice was friendly, almost effusively so. Brody thought, he’s probably had a couple of belts.

“As well as could be expected, Larry.”

“You’re working pretty late. I tried to get you at home.”

“Yeah. Well, when you’re the chief of police and your constituents are getting themselves killed every twenty minutes, that kind of keeps you busy.”

“I heard about Ben Gardner.”

“What did you hear?”

“That he was missing.”

“News travels pretty fast.”

“Are you sure it was the shark again?”

“Sure? Yeah, I guess so. Nothing else seems to make any sense.”

“Martin, what are you going to do?” There was a pathetic urgency in Vaughan’s voice.

“That’s a good question, Larry. We’re doing everything we can right now. We’ve got the beaches closed down. We’ve—”

“I’m aware of that, to say the very least.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Have you ever tried to sell healthy people real estate in a leper colony?”

“No, Larry,” Brody said wearily.

“I’m getting cancellations every day. People are walking out on leases. I haven’t had a new customer in here since Sunday.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Well, I thought… I mean, what I’m wondering is, maybe we’re overreacting to this whole thing.”

“You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.”

“Hardly, Martin. Now calm down. Let’s discuss this rationally.”

“I’m rational. I’m not sure about you, though.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Vaughan said, “What would you say to opening the beaches, just for the Fourth of July weekend?”

“Not a chance. Not a fucking chance.”

“Now listen…”

“No, you listen, Larry. The last time I listened to you, we had two people killed. If we catch that fish, if we kill the sonofabitch, then we’ll open the beaches. Until then, forget it.”

“What about nets?”

“What about them?”

“Why couldn’t we put steel nets out to protect the beaches? Someone told me that’s what they do in Australia.”

He must be drunk, Brody thought. “Larry, this is a straight coastline. Are you going to put nets out along two and a half miles of beaches? Fine. You get the money. I’d say about a million dollars, for openers.”

“What about patrols? We could hire people to patrol up and down the beaches in boats.”

“That’s not good enough, Larry. What is it with you, anyway? Are your partners on your ass again?”

“That’s none of your damn business, Martin. For God’s sake, man, this town is dying!”