Quints Judgement

Lindy Hannigan gave birth to her son, Michael Joseph Hannigan, junior, on halloween night, 1983...nine months after her husband, Mike, was shot and killed after he had kidnapped the Amity Island mayor and attempted to kill him. She knew it was his fault, but she would have rather have had been able to visit him in prison than at the cemetery. Lindy had spent her entire pregnancy alone, refusing help or support from her family or friends. She had continued to work and tried desperately to get on with her life, but losing her husband after only two weeks of marriage and carrying thier child alone was just too much for her to bare. She had been dealing with severe bouts of depression on and off since her husband was killed, but she fought them as valiantly as she could. Sometimes she would cry uncontrollably at absolutely no reason at all and, sometimes, couldnt even get herself out of bed of a morning, she was so emotionally tapped. Other days, she could get herself out of it by simply treating herself to a half pint of Haagen-Daas ice cream and a long, hot bubble bath. But when post-partum depression hit her, ontop of her already fragile state, it sent her over the edge. She was supposed to spend all of Thanksgiving day with her family. Even the Hannigans were going to be there. She tried forcing herself to look forward to it...normally, it would have been a very happy occasion...but there was no use. She could feel herself sinking deeper and deeper into mental illness and she was quickly losing control. Thanksgiving morning was clear and ice cold. Lindy had'nt slept all night. She had tried to, but an old song that she had once considered hers and Mikes had came on the radio and she started crying hard and it was dawn before she could even get herself calmed down enough to relax a little. Her eyes were puffy and red and her cheeks were tear-stained. She was obviously very tired as she pulled up in front of her parents home. She didnt turn of the cars engine. She carried the baby toward the front door as if he weighed two tons. Her mom met her at the front door, smiling, happy to see her daughter and grandson...but was shocked at her daughters haggard appearance. She decided not to mention anything about Lindy's condition. Her daughter looked bad enough without starting up a confrontation. She just smiled and hugged her and ushered her inside of the house, out of the cold. "Hi, honey!", her mom said, trying to be as cheerful as possible under the circumstances, "oohhh...let me have my precious little grandson...", as she put out her arms to take the baby. Lindy handed the baby to her mother as if he were a pile of ragged clothing instead of a little person. Her mother was alarmed. "Lindy, honey...whats wrong?", Mrs. Ellerbee asked, quite concerned. Tired, so very tired, both physically and emotionally, Lindy asked, "Mom...could you take care of little Joey for awhile...?". (She had named the boy after his daddy, but she couldnt bear to call him Michael, so she refferred to him by a shortened version of his middle name). Worried, her mom said, "Why, sure, honey...but...where are you going?...Arent you staying for dinner?...Grandma's here...she's been waiting to see you...". As Lindy turned around to walk to the car, she said, "I'll be back, mom...I...I just...I'm going to the cemetery for awhile, okay?". Scowling, her mom asked, sort of quietly, "Honey...do you have to do that today...?". Lindy just nodded, hanging her head. "I'll be back later". Her mothers heart just broke for her daughter. She wished that there was something that she could do to ease her daughters pain, but this was a wound that only time could heal. "Alright, honey...please be careful...", her mother called after her. "Okay, mom...Bye...". Her mothers heart raced with worry as she watched her sad little (grown-up) girl drive away with a broken heart. This was supposed to be the first holiday for her with her new husband, but she bever got the chance...not even close. Liz Ellerbee honestly hated the day was even concieved! She knew he would break her daughters heart the moment she laid eyes on him when they moved in next door to them when they were little children. He was always teasing Lindy so bad that she would run home, scared, hurt and crying. Then, just as she was walking out the door to go have a talk with his mother, he would be there, on thier stoop, holding out candy or a toy or something to give to Lindy as an apology. And he could do this as often as three times a day. She knew this kid just wasnt right in the head. And now, she had to go in and entertain his parents...the people who brought that monster into this world. Seeing her daughter in so much pain because of thier son was going to make this an extremely difficult day, ontop of all the worrying she was going to do over Lindy. She didnt know how she was going to make it through. But Liz Ellerbee didnt know just how bad things were going to get, yet... Lindy had a gun...and she wasnt going to the cemetery... ********************************************************************************** Elena Quint was expecting her own baby in the coming spring. Her doctor had told her early april, but she was convinced it was going to be late march. Whichever month it was going to be, Quint was hoping it would just hurry the hell up and get here! Elena was so damned cranky when she was pregnant! He tried hard to understand what she was going through, but, sometimes, she got so bitchy that he had to make up excuses to get the hell out of there and away from her and it always made him feel so guilty, afterward. But the worst part for him, really, was that she wouldnt let him be intimate with her. He always worried that he may hurt her or the baby when they were sharing moments of intimacy, so he was always so slow and careful with her, but she always found some excuse (she was 'sleepy' or had a 'headache' or her 'muscles were sore' or something...) not to let him near her and he got so damned frustrated... But, he dealt with it. He loved her and, eventually, realized that carrying another human life inside of her body all the time must BE miserable, so she had every right to act that way. Besides...he adored his son and he was happy that he was going to have another. They sat on the sofa, watching TV. She was laying back, her feet on Quints lap. He was messaging them for her. She had just put the turkey into the oven after preparing it and stuffing it, cooking it for thier Thanksgiving feast. The night before, she had baked two homemade pumpkin pies, from scratch, just the way Quint prefferred them. (Quint detested store-bought pies...he thought they were too expensive and runny and just didnt taste good!). They were Quint and Mikeys favorite. She made a dutch-apple for herself and a cherry-cordial pie, just for good measure. After all...there were going to be seven people for dinner today...the Brody's were coming. But only half of the cooking was done...she'd be cooking all day in between basting that 25-pound turkey! "Elena...", Quint asked, concerned, "Why dont we go to a restraunt or something?...You shouldnt be working so hard in your condition...". She smiled at his loving concern. She always felt so bad when she was cranky toward him...he couldnt help the way she felt and he always went out of his way to try and make her feel better...so, she promised herself that she'd try harder from now on not to be so grouchy. "Oh, no, Michael...", she opposed, "...I want us to have a cozy little 'family' meal...just you, me, Mikey and the Brody's". Quints face lit up. "Martins coming?", he smiled brightly. He was happy about that...now, he would have someone to watch the football games with. He liked watching them with Mikey, but Mikey was still so little...his attention span didnt last long enough to make it through the second plauy of the game...and he wouldnt drink when Mikey was in the same room, either...that sort of put a damper on the fun. "Yes, darling...as a matter of fact, they'll be here very soon...". After a moment or two of Quint just setting there, smiling silently, he patted her leg and reminded her, "You know, being the mayor, we're probably obligated to have cooks and cleaning people in here...". She scoffed and waved her hand sightly in a dismissive gesture, "...I had a 'staff' when I was a child, Michael...all through growing up. They were a cold, impersonal bunch of people living in my parents house. They always made me feel uncomfortable...in my own home...I dont want that for our children, Michael. I want just us...just our family...". She got quiet and somber. Her gaze dropped from his, then she continued, "...Honey, I finally have a real 'family' and I want to keep it that way, okay...?". She lifted her eyes back up to meet his gaze. He saw the pleading in them. "Okay, woman...", he said, trying to sound as macho as he could, so that his emotion wouldnt show. He deep sighed as he rubbed her leg softly as he remained silent, letting that conversation die right there. About an hour later, the Brody's arrived. After all the warm, friendly greetings, Shawn and Michael ran upstairs with Mikey to his room to check out his new video game, Quint grabbed Martins arm and ushered him into the family room to catch the start of the game (The Detroit Lions were playing the Chicago Bears for the first time since 1934, when these two old codgers were mere pups) and Ellen and Elena trotted off to the kitchen to check the baking bird. When the ladies were setting the table for dinner that afternoon, the telephone rang. It was officer Don Baker, for Martin. Ellen went into the den to let Martin know Baker was calling. "I hope you dont mind, mayor...I told Polly where I'd be in case of an emergency...", Martin sighed to Quint as he pulled himself up out of his chair. Quint dismissed it, "...Its official business and this is an official house...its what we gotta do, right?". Martin sighed tiredly, "...Yeah, right...", being good-naturedly sarcastic. Quint chuckled. After Martin hung up, he stood there a moment, looking ill. "Whats wrong, Martin?", Ellen asked, her eyes wide with curiosity, Elena standing in the background, just as curious. Martin whispered to Ellen, not wanting Elena to hear about this, not in her condition. "Lindy Hannigan...", he whispered as he put on his coat, "...She was apparently quite despondant because of the holiday...". "What about her?...What did she do?", Ellen prodded. After a moments hesistation, Martin continued, "...She walked to the intersection of Main and Johnson streets, right in the middle of town, put a gun into her mouth and shot herself...". Ellen put her hand to her mouth and gasped, in shock. "Listen", Martin told her, quietly, "Dont say a word about this to either Quint or Elena...especially Elena...if they ask where I'm going, just tell them that some old fart got drunk and beligerant and I had to go take care of him and that I'll be back in a while...just go ahead and have dinner without me and I'll get back when I can". He kissed her goodbye, then told her to "Save me a plate" as he went out the door. "Where's Martin going?", Elena asked as Ellen came back into the kitchen. "Oh...", remembering what Martin told her to say, not really wanting to lie, but she didnt want to upset Elena. After all...this was quite shocking news...no telling how Elena would take this, "Somebody got drunk and fiesty and Martin had to go deal with it, is all...", she smiled a chuckled nervously, then added, "...Its tough being married to the chief of police...he's always having to run out on us at the oddest moments". "Come on, Ellen", Elena smirked, "Theres' something going on more serious than some out of control drunk...you look as if all the blood has been drained out of you...". Stumbling over her words, determined not to let Elena know what was really going on. Trying to keep her composure, she came up with something she considered plausible, "Oh, its just me...I was hoping there wouldnt be any disruptions today, so we could all just set down and have a nice, peaceful holiday meal, but I guess that blows that...", her smile was shaky, at best. But Elena believed her. She had often thought about Martin and Ellens relationship...it must be darned solid and trustworthy to handle all of those interruptions and all that time apart...Elena had seen a program on public television once, about the stress in the lives of policemen...how, being a cop, was the most stressful job that society had to offer. So stressful, in fact, that the suicide rate among cops is the highest in any economic group in the entire country. So, Elena took her friend by the elbow and led her back to the kitchen to get her busy, again, to get her mind off of her husband being called away. They put all the food back that they had just set out, to keep it warm until Martin got back. She made up thier mind that they were going to wait until Martin returned before they sat down to eat. Later, Quint came into the kitchen, where the two women were now setting, having a chat and drinking coffee. "Where the hell did Martin go?", he asked, wondering. Ellen spoke up...she told Quint the same story that she had told Elena. Then Elena explained that dinner was going to be a little late. Quint smiled with one corner of his mouth, his eyebrows raised and his eyes twinkling, "Oh, well...it dont look like the games gonna be over for another good two hours, anyhow...", then he turned and walked over to the refrigerator, got out a cold beer and went back to the family room to finish watching the game. "Dont you dare get blasted before dinner, Michael Quint!", Elena warned. He turned and looked at her, then winked and blew her a quick smooch, with a michievious grin, as he continued on back to the family room. "What a smart-ass", Elena grinned as she sipped her coffee. "But, I love him". ********************************************************************************** When Martin arrived at the scene, he was honestly relieved to see that there were only one or two spectators. Thank God this was a small island, a holiday and too damned cold for tourists! Officers Baker, Simms and Burns were already there, taking pictures, taping off the crime scene and searching the perimeter for evidence. Simms, the senior officer, walked up to Martin as he was approaching the scene. "This aint a pretty sight, chief...", Simms told him, looking as if he were fighting hard not to vomit. Luckily, ten years with NYPD had hardened Martin. He'd seen hundreds of gunshot victims, about half of them from suicide. Simms was right...it wasnt a 'pretty sight' to see someones brains spilled out all over the street or a wall or a bed...or anywhere, but he had one consolation...a gunshot victim was alot easier on the eye (and the stomach) than any highway accident victim. At least the majority of a gunshot victims body was still intact, making the coroners report alot easier (and faster) to fill out. "Is there a note of any kind and did you call the coronoer?", Martin asked. "Yes, chief", Simms replied, as he pulled a plastic baggy out of his pocket, containing a piece of blood-stained note paper, "This note was in the victims hand when Mrs. Krieger...", he pointed to an older lady syanding in front of the doorway of the Carmel liquor store, "...telephoned us after she heard the shot and saw the vicitm fall to the ground....and, yes...the coroner is on his way". Martin read the note through the clear plastic of the baggy. It simply read: "To whom it may concern - I love my son, I love my family...but I can no longer live without my husband. Lindy Hannigan November 24th, 1983" Martin walked over to Lindys body. It definately wasnt 'a pretty sight'. She had used a very large caliber handgun, a .357 Magnum revolver, to shoot herself in the head...so there wasnt much left of it. He deep-sighed. He didnt relish the thought of having to drive over to the Ellerbees to break the bad news, but...it was his job. He had to stay and sign the release of the body for the coroner before he could notify the next of kin, thankfully, so he had some time to think about how he could tell her family, as delicately as he could, about thier tragedy. And this wasnt going to be easy. It never was. Within the following hour, the body was removed and the crime scene thouroughly combed and cleaned. Martin couldnt put off making that visit to the Ellerbees any longer. It was a severe emotional drain on Martin. No matter how many times he has had to do this during his career, it never got any easier. He told Mr. Ellerbee, first...hoping that he would tell the rest of his family, but Mr. Ellerbee broke down, crying, right there in the front yard. Liz Ellerbee came running out to see what was wrong with her husband, but he was far to emotionally out of control to tell her so Martin had to break the news to her. They were all screaming and sobbing...Martin was getting sick to his stomach. He didnt get ill at the sight of Lindys body (or, rather, what was left of it), but he was seriously becoming ill, now. He was anxious to get out of there as quickly as he possibly could. He asked if there was anything that he could do for them, but they couldnt answer him. It was his job to tell them that they would have to sign a release for thier daughters body before the coroner could hand the body over to a funeral service, but he figured that they would find that out when the time came, so he left them to grieve. He got back into the land rover and headed back to the office. Passing Polly, on his way to his office inside the station, he told her firmly, "No interruptions!". Once there, he locked himself inside. He sat back in his chair, put his feet up on the desk and pulled the bottle of Jack Daniels (whiskey) from the top desk drawer and started drinking. He had to get his mind off of the events of the day, somehow, before going back to rejoin his friends and family for Thanksgiving dinner. Two hours later, Polly came into the office. "I'm sorry to bother you, chief", she said, sheepishly. "What is it, Polly?", he was tired and halfway drunk. "The mayor is on line one...he wants to know when youre coming back for dinner...what should I tell him?". Good 'ole Polly...she'd lie for Martin to anybody...including the mayor. Yep...she was very loyal. "I'll take the call, Polly...thank you". Then, as an afterthought, he told her, just before she walked out the door, "Go home...happy thanksgiving...". "But...whos going to run the office?", she enquired. "I'll call in Baker. He's got no family here...", he said, "...Now go home before I change my mind". She saw that he was trying to smile, so she smiled back at him. "You have as happy a thanksgiving as you can, too, chief...", she said, a pitiful little smile on her face. She felt bad for him...for what he had to go through today. Then she left quickly, before he could change his mind. She was going to her son and daughter-in-law's house for dinner, but she wasnt expected until this evening. This way, she could help with the cooking and they wouldnt have to wait so long to eat...she had always made Thanksgiving dinner for her family around three in the afternoon, all those years before her husband passed away and her children grew up, so her son was used to having this particular meal during the day. They were going to wait until 8pm that night, for her to get off of work, before eating. Now, she wouldnt be an interruption to them. That made her feel more comfortable about eating with her son and his family. After Polly left, Martin answered Quints call. "What the hell are you doing down there, Brody??", Quint demanded. "I'm polishing off a bottle of good 'ole JD, mayor...what?...You gonna fire me for it?", Martin said it jokingly, but it didnt come out sounding that way. Fortunately, Quint knew Martin well enough to know that tone...Martin has had a bbaadddd day... "Naw", Quint smirked, "I wouldnt fire you for drinking on the job...only for not calling me down to help you do it!". That broke Martin up. He laughed until he giggled, then felt sick to his stomach. "So...", Quint chuckled, "When the hell you coming back here so I can eat??...If I dont eat soon, I'm gonna throw up before I get to eat!". Martin laughed his ass off. "Oh, well...", Martin laughed, "At least you'll have room for desert!". They both laughed until there were tears streaming down thier faces. It was good...it was exactly what Martin needed, right now. Grinning from ear-to-ear, Martin said, "I'm on my way...and I'll stop off and pick up a fresh bottle of JD on my way...hows that?". Laughing, still, Quint agreed. ********************************************************************************** Todd Ellerbee had been very close to his sister, Lindy, all of his life. She had been older than him by several years, so she was more like a second mother to him, really. She taught him how to tie his shoes, how to hold his fork so that his spaghetti wouldnt fall off of it, how to roller skate, how to ride his bike...just about all of the personally important things that he had ever learned, she had taught him. There were times when he would tease her unmercifully, but he loved and needed her...and now, he would miss her horribly. He looked for someone to blame, but there really wasnt anyone. He never liked Mike, her 'husband'. As far as Todd was concerned, it was his fault for getting his stupid ass shot off. But he found himself wondering what it was that frove Mike so hard against mayor Quint? Sure...Mike was a bonafide nutcase who would just nut-up on anybody who looked at him wrong, but Todd wondered why he carried his vendetta so far...what was it that Quint said or did to cause Mike to go that far? Did Quint antagonize him? Had he pulled any political strings to keep Mike in jail any longer than he was supposed to be? Todd laid there, on his bed that night, in the dark, wondering about this. He was filled with rage and sorrow and frustration, searching his mind for answers for the many, many questions that he had there. By the time he had drifted off to sleep, he still had more questions than answers. ********************************************************************************** "Well...its almost 6, Elena", Ellen sighed, "Why dont we just go ahead and serve up dinner?...If we dont, soon, both of our men are going to be so drunk they wont even be able to make it to the table!...Besides...the kids are starving. Theyre going to fall asleep soon, hungry". Elena agreed. Quint and Martin, between the two of them, had already polished off one pint od apricot brandy, a fifth of Jack Daniels and two six packs of Budweiser and were starting in on that five gallon bottle of Italian wine that Matt Hooper had sent the Quints on thier last anniversary. They needed something on thier stomachs and soon...or they were going to extremely sick. Elena went into the family room to tell the guys that dinner was being served. Thats when Quint had realized that everyone knew about what had happened today except for her. He didnt feel it was right keeping secrets from her, but he didnt know quite how she would take the news, especially in her condition. She had been the one who had felt the most guilty because she killed Lindys husband while Lindy was expecting...she had felt so bad for so long about it all that Quint thought she would never get over it. Still, she was going to find out, soon enough, and it was best that the news came from him, so he could be there for her if she needed him to be. Besides - if she really knew why they were getting so plastered, she wasnt going to be so upset about it. If he couldnt eat much, he didnt want her hollaring at him in the morning with the huge hang-over he was going to have for spoiling her thanksgiving meal. Martin went on into the dining room while Quint stayed back in the family room with Elena, so he could tell her in private. She took it pretty hard, too. She had to run to the bathroom to vomit. Quint held her as she knelt over the toilet, trembling and gagging. He reached over and pulled a washcloth from the towel rack, then dampened it with warm water to pat her face as he tried comforting her. She sat down on the floor and leaned back against the bathtub, crying. She took the cloth from Quint and covered her face as she cried. Quint held her and rocked her as she sobbed on and on about how awful it was and how sad she felt. Moments later, Ellen knocked at the bathroom door. "Hey, you two", she said, softly, "Dinner's on the table". "We'll be right down, Ellen", Quint said, toward the closed door, then turned to Elena, speaking softly, quietly, studying her face closely with his eyes, "Lets go downstairs, sweetie...at least we can set with our guests...". She nodded, "Okay, Michael...you go on down ahead of me...give me a few more minutes to collect myself, ok?", she sniffed. "You sure?", he asked softly. She nodded again, then he kissed her lightly on the lips, patted her bottom then winked and smiled. She smiled back at him, but only half-heartedly. They ended up having a nice dinner, anyway. Quint and Martin offered to do the dishes while the ladies sat at the kitchen table and supervised...and laughed... The guys flipped a coin to see who would wash and who would dry. Quint won out on drying, but it also meant that he had to put them away, too. He didnt mind that...he teased Martin unmecifully about having "dish-pan hands". Then Martin put way too much soap in the sink... "Martin...", Ellen said, "...thats a bit too much...". "Just leave me alone, El...I know what I'm doing", he said, that ever-present cigarette hanging from his lips, shirt-sleeves rolled up. But as Martin was looking at Ellen and telling her he knew what he was doing, Quint said, nonchalantly, "No, you dont, Brody...". Martin turned just in time to watch a huge, slimy blob of soap suds fall out of the sink, slide down his pants leg and plop right onto his shoes. The sink was over-flowing with a huge mountain of suds. The girls were already giggling like mad, but when Martin noticed the suds and yelled "Shit!!" and jumped back and almost slipped and fell back on his ass, they burst out, roaring with riotous laughter. Martin gave the girls a pained look as he reached over and turned off the water. The he looked over at Quint, who was giving Martin one of those "one-corner-of-the-mouth" grins. "Dont you say a word...", Martin told Quint, who just turned away and started whistling (and snickering behind Martins back). "Jeez...what am I going to do with all these suds??", Martin said, mainly to himself. Quint, ever the smart ass, piped up, "Lets just wipe the excess into the floor...that way we dont have to have a bucket for mop water!". Martin gave him a patronizing look and Quiunt chuckled. Then, they got into a suds fight, slinging water and soap suds at each other, soaking themselves and the whole kitchen. They were laughing hysterically...however, the ladies were not. Noticing the expressions on thier wives faces, they quickly calmed down and got serious. They finished the dishes, put them away, wiped down the counters and stove - and mopped the floor quite efficiently (Quint grumbled as he mopped..."I thought I gave this up when I left the damned Navy!"). Later on, Quint built a cozy fire in the fireplace in the livingroom...a great, stately room that, despite its massive size, managed to remain quite cozy, with its over-stuffed beige colored sofas and chairs, its red and gold Turkish style rug with the gold fringe at the ends, crystal wall lamps and cherrywood tables. They all sat there...the ladies sipping hot cocoa and the men sipping brandy. The boys had all been put to bed upstairs. Since it was a holiday, Mikey had asked if the Brody boys could spend the night...Shawn and Michael were in total agreement, anyway). The adults' conversation started out as one common conversation...dinner. How they liked it, the ladies exchanging recipes, etcetera and the guys boasting about how full they had gotten and how much they enjoyed certain dishes. But it eventually split into two differents conversations when Martin asked Quint how the game ended and Ellen wanting to know more about Elenas newly found turkey and chestnut dressing recipe. But the conversation eventually got around to Lindy Hannigan...and it had been Elena who had brought it up, first. "Lindy must have really been hurting inside to do something so drastic and so final...", she said, almost hypnotically, staring into the fire, tracing the rim of her cocoa cup with her finger absent-mindedly. Quint watched her carefully. He didnt want to quiet her incase this was what she needed to do...to talk about it...but he didnt want her getting as upset as she had, earlier, either. He made a concious note that, if he saw her starting to get upset, he'd change the subject swiftly. But she remained calm and rational, discussing at length, the possibilities of why Lindy chose such a drastic way to end her troubles. They talked well into the night, until it was Ellen and Elena who were doing the discussing...Quint had passed out first, then Martin nodded off not very long after that. Then Ellen took Elena up on her offer to spend the night in the guest room. She was too full, too cold and too sleepy to fight with Martin about getting up and going out into the freezing cold, wet night. So, the mayoral mansion was full, dark and quiet this Thanksgiving night. It had been a long and eventful day...and the inhabitant of this house were glad it was over. ********************************************************************************** The grieving had continued in the Ellerbee home. Mr. Ellerbee and Mr. Hannigan had decided to split the cost of the funeral, since Mr. Ellerbee had been gracious enough to do as much for him when he buried his son. The women actually took turns grieving...one would cry and sob while the other would care for thier infant grandchild, then, when she had had enough crying for the moment, the other would hand the baby over and start her grieving. Todd was occasionally looked in on by an adult, but he had been basically left alone, with no one to talk to, to grieve on his own. He didnt mind, anyway...it was what he preferred. Most of thier Thanksgiving dinner had been cooked before Lindy had arrived that morning and had been set out to eat as she sat out for her destiny, so all that food had sat on the table, all day, untouched. Even Todd, who usually ate the most, never took a bite. Todd had laid in his bed, all day, grieving in his own way. It was late into the night, now and he still hadnt found any real reason for her death, no one to blame. He felt he needed to vent, but he couldnt do that until he could figure out whom he could vent to. His thoughts always seemed to drift back to mayor Quint. Todd knew it wasnt Quints fault...Lindy had told him what had really happened - and she hadnt gotten the story from Mike, either...Mikes only half-way decent friend, Paul Schroeder, had explained to Lindy that Mike had been the one who had created all the trouble between he and the mayor. He went over every little detail with Lindy...thats why she couldnt blame or be angry at the Quints when they shot Mike. She knew he had it coming. And Todd would believe Paul. He wouldnt lie...not to Lindy. Paul was the one Lindy should have married in the first place, in Todds opinion. He loved her, but was too afraid of psycho Mike to say anything to anyone except for Todd, when he took Todd out for ice cream one day when Lindy was supposed to be babysitting but the two wanted to be alone...so they had asked Paul to tke Todd somewhere awhile. But Todd couldnt yell at or beat up Mike...he was dead and buried. So, how was he to get out all this anger and frustration? He had tried to cry, but couldnt sqeeze out a tear, no matter how hard he tried. He couldnt yell or scream at or hit anyone because there was no one. He couldnt even talk it out...the grown-ups were all too wrapped up in thier own grieving to listen to anything he had to say. It was already bad enough for him without this, being 15 and at the tail-end of puberty. But, as he lay close to sleep, his grumbling stomach far from his mind, a thought came to him... Mayor Quint was the only one left who could give him any answers. ********************************************************************************** The following morning, it was so cold, that Quint hated to even lift the balnkets off of his body. But, he was curious...he smelled coffee brewing and Elena was still asleep beside him. His head pounded and his eyes throbbed. He remembered that he had drank way to much last night. He didnt want to wake Elena, so he got out of bed as quietly as possible...cussing under his breath for being too damned drunk to remember to light the furnace before going to bed. Hell...he couldnt even remember going to bed. He grabbed his robe even before slipping his feet into his slippers. Shivering, teeth chattering, he got out of bed, hugging himself tightly, rubbing his arms for warmth and walked quickly out of the room. He was going to head downstairs, then to the basement, to light that blessed furnace...but on the way, he would find out who was brewing that great smelling coffee. When he came downstairs, he heard kids giggling and laughing. He walked down the hallway toward the kitchen and heard adult voices. He thought to himself, "What the hell..??". He pushed the swinging door in from the hallway to the kitchen and peeked in...Martin and Ellen were setting at the kitchen table, having coffee and watching over the three boys, now eating cereal for breakfast. Quint had been passed out, drunk, when Ellen had accepted Elena's offer to stay over last night, so this was a suprise to him. But, it didnt take him long to figure it out. He couldnt possibly go in...he was wearing only his bathrobe and slippers...he slept in the nude and he didnt want to take any chances of anything "peeking through" on accident, so he snuck quietly back down the corridor, up the stairs and back to his room to get dressed. Elena was still asleep and he wondered if he should wake her. He glanced at the clock and it was still only 7:30, so he decided to let her have another hour, at least. So what if she got upset? She would eventually understand...he'd seen her have a pretty rough time the night before and she would know that he was only doing what he thought he thought he should do by letting her rest. And she would be upset at him for letting her sleep, but for another reason... She was having horrid nightmares about Mike Hannigan. The boys were the ones that eventually woke her, right after breakfast, when they ran down the hallway to Mikeys room, on thier way to play "war" with Mikeys extensive collection of plastic military men and weapons. Upon waking, she remembered that Martin and Ellen had spent the night last night, so she quickly got out of bed, dressed and headed downstairs. "Good morning, everyone", Elena said, cheerily, as she walked into the kitchen, "Anyone hungry?". "I'm afraid I took some liberties with your kitchen, Elena", Ellen smiled, "...I already cooked for everyone...here...", walking over to the oven and retrieving a foil-covered plate, then bringing it to set in front of Elena. "I hoope you dont mind. I cleaned up when I was finished". "Oh, no, Ellen!...I dont mind a bit!...In fact, I appreciate it! Thank you!", Elena said, smiling, her stomach growling. This was great...she hadnt been able to sleep-in or have breakfast cooked for her since before Mikey was born. This was a treat! Later, as Quint and Elena were walking the Brody's to the door to say thier good-bye's, there came a knock at the door. Elena gave Quint an odd look, "Who could be coming here this early...on a holiday??". Quint shrugged as he scanned everyones expressions, as if one could offer an answer. He walked cautiously to the front door and peeked out. It was Todd Ellerbee. "Mayor Quint?", he asked, shyly. "Yes, boy?...What is it?", Quint answered in his usual gruff tone, always being defensive when he's not sure what to expect. "May I speak with you for a minute?...if you have time, that is...I know its probably not a good time...", Todd was very apprehensive. But they were all shocked. Quint looked at Martin, Martin looked at Elena, Elena looked at Ellen...then they all looked at Todd...none of them knew what to expect... Todd stood there, looking so eerily like his sister that it made them all a bit unnerved, with his hands in his pockets, his head slightly bent down...but his large, dark eyes watching Quint closely. They all just stood there, dumbfounded, until Martin walked up and stood closely behind Quint. He had to tap Quint on the shoulder to get Quint to bend down a little so he could whisper something into his ear...Quint was so tall... "You want to talk to him?...If this isnt the right time, I can have him leave...", Martin said, authoritively. Quint shook his head. "Naw, chief...its alright", Quint smiled. Quint told the boy he would give him a few minutes as he gestured for him to step inside. But as Todd stepped over the threshold, Martin stepped in front of him. "You arent carrying any weapons, are you, kid?...I mean..", he chuckled nervously, "...with all thats been going on lately...and...with who you are...we cant take any chances....right?". "I understand, chief", Todd said, with a sigh, then he held out his arms, "...You can check me, sir...I dont have any weapons on me". Martin patted him down, much to Ellen's distaste. Quint and Elena had been through all of the mess, first-hand, with Todd's family...Ellen hadnt, so she could afford to be more trustful. But it was okay. Todd was being polite, had no weapons and was cooperative. All he wanted to do was to simply talk to the mayor. "Why dont you wait for me in the library, Todd...", Quint told him in a gentle tone as he gestured toward the room down the hallway. Todd walked solemnly in the direction Quint pointed to. "What do you think, Quint?...should I stick around a little while longer?", Martin asked, just slightly above a whisper. Quint stared down the hallway, in the direction of the library, almost not hearing what Martin just said. "Quint", Elena nudged him, jarring him out of his deep thoughts. "Hmmm?", Quint said, "oh, uh...no, Brody...thanks, but...I think I can handle it from here". Then the Brody's said thier goodbye's (Martins was hestitant), then departed. As Quint closed the door behind them, he leaned down to brush his lips lightly across Elenas cheek. "Honey, I dont know what the kid wants, but I'm sure its nothing serious...so dont worry, ok?", he smiled and his eyes twinkled...Elena felt that tingling sensation in the pit of her belly. But her worry was strong enough to bring her quickly down off of her cloud. She deep-sighed and rolled her eyes at him, "Okay...but if I hear just one strange noise coming from that room, I'm on the phone with the police so fast your head is going to spin!". He grinned and stepped as closely to her as he could get, with her very pregnant belly sticking in the way! He grinned widely and emitted this low, gutteral "heh-heh-heh", then kissed her neck and patted her bottom in his devilish manner. Grinning madly, herself, she reminded him, "You've got a guest waiting, Mister Mayor", then pointed toward the library. He walked off, pouting, but smiling, as if to say, "Okay, girl...not this time, but I'll have you the next!". Quint was a bit nervous as he closed the library door behind him, then walked over to his favorite easy chair...staring at this boy whom he had never before met, but who had suddenly something important to say to him. Quint was nervous, yes...but his curiosity overcame it. "So...", Quint started, as he situated himself in the tufted, over-stuffed English wingback leather chair in front of the wall of books on the right side of the big, airy room with all of its large, floor-to-ceiling windows, "...How can I help you?". Todd really didnt know where to start. The only reason he was there was to try and find some answers to what went so wrong in his sisters life that she had to off herself. "Well, Mr. Quint...er...mayor, I mean...sorry...". The kid was also apparently quite nervous, himself. Smiling despite himself, Quint remembered that both Elena and Martin had told him that he could be quite intimidating at times. He didnt want this poor kid to feel like he had to be scared of him, so, he spoke softly and smiled, "You can just call me 'Quint', if you'd rather...". A sudden sparkle in his eyes, Todd said, "Okay, Quint...thanks...", grinning sheepishly. A sudden dark cloud passed over his face and his smile changed into sadness and shame, "Well...", he continued unsuredly and sadly, "I guess you know what happened to my sister...". Todd felt as if he were going to cry but fighting back the tears furiously. "Yes, boy", Quint said, in a soft, understanding tone, "I heard about it yesterday morning...I'm very sorry". Todd choked, feeling embarrassed, trying desperately to avert his gaxe so that Quint wouldnt see the hot, stinging tears welling up in his eyes, he went on, as best he could. But being so wrapped up in trying not to let Quint see his impending tears, he didnt realize that the mayor already had seen them...and understood...and had decided not to embarrass him by saying anything about them. Staring out the big window towards the ocean beyond, Todd spoke, "I'm trying to find some answers to make some sense of all of this...it all started with you, so I figured I should start with you for the answers". "What do you mean, it all started with me?", Quint asked. "Well...", Todd continued slowly...he didnt want Quint to get the wrong idea, "...Mike Hannigan got into a fight with you...that started some sort of vendetta with him...then he attacked you and your wife, from what I know, and landed in jail...when he was there, mom had cut the article out of the Lighthouse newspaper during his trial and she sent the article to Lindy...she was in college at the time...you know...just to show her that Mike was still the trouble-maker that he always was...but Lindy still had this 'thing' for him...but, we all figured that this was the first time Mike would be doing any real, serious time and that this would, you know, 'mellow' him out...so nobody said anything when Lindy said she was going to marry him...". Growing impatient, but trying hard to remain polite, Quint wondered what direction this kid was taking this story...was he going to blame Quint for his sisters death? Was he just whining? Quint fought hard for patience, but he was at his breaking point, almost. He snapped, "Whats your point, boy?...Get on with it". Todd's eyes grew wide, watching Quint. His blazing blue eyes piercing into his like razor-sharp sabers. "Well", Todd continued, "I was wondering if, maybe, I could hear what happened from your point of view?...I mean, I only got second-hand information....you were there...please, Quint...I need to find some closure...". The kids eyes were pleading and sad...it tugged at Quints heart. He suddenly felt like a shit-heel for snapping at this kid. Quint leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared at the floor for a few minutes before raising only his eyes to meet with Todd's. "Todd", he sighed, "The day I met Mike Hannigan, he and a couple of his buddies were trying to rip-off some boats in the harbour. My buddies boats...guys I work with, guys I drink with...guys Ive known for many years, guys I went to war with. I told him to leave and he fought it. I could have had him arrested right then and there, but I decided to just take care of it, myself. I didnt do anything that any of the other boat owners wouldnt have done...". Then he leaned backwards, in the chair, making himself a little more comfortable before continuing, crossing his long, powerful legs and hanging his arms over the sides, his rough, weathered hands dangling at the ends of those long, sunbeaten arms... head resting on the back of the chair, "...I guess I embarrassed Mike in front of his buddies and, I guess, thats what set him off...because when he later attacked missus Quint - inside of her own home- he and his buddies made references to that". He watched Todd for reaction, but he was quiet, waiting for Quint to continue. "Anyway, Mike wanted to kill me because of that incident, Todd...thats what I think was the reason, anyway...its the only plausible one I can come up with, anyway...the point was, that I bested him...and, I guess, his ego wouldnt let him stop until he got vengeance". Quint paused. After a moment of silence, he got up and walked over to the sofa where Todd sat and sat down beside the boy. Quint put his large, rough hand gently on the boys shoulder and spoke quietly and caringly, keeping constant eye contact with Todd as he spoke. "Todd...Mike had serious problems going on in his head...it wasnt anyones fault, but, unfortunately, when someone close to you has issues they need to deal with - yet, they dont - it ends up affecting everyone around them and Mike needed help for his problems long ago...long before he ever even met Lindy...see, boy, woman have this idea that they know how to help a man when he's having troubles. Sometimes they are what the man needs...sometimes, they only get in the way of his problems and she then becomes part of them. I'm not saying Mike didnt love her. In his own way, I'm sure he did. But he had a more important mission - to get back at me - so he was blinded by that hatred for me...that irrational hatred that he just either couldnt control or didnt know how. It wasnt your fault and it wasnt Lindy's fault...she just...didnt really know what she was getting into. He was blinded by hatred and she was blinded by love. A bad combination...", Quint sighed, shaking his head. Then he looked up into Todds eyes and asked quietly, "You understand any of this, son?". Todd sat silently for a moment, then looked back at Quint, his tears flowing freely, now, and asked, a bit pathetically, giving Quints old ticker another emotional jerk, "...But...why did you have to kill him, Quint?...You'd beat him up once before, really good, too and he went to jail...why couldnt you just do that again?...At least, if he was alive, my sister wouldnt have...", then he really cut loose with the crying. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed uncontrollably. Quint felt absolutely awful. He put his arm around the sobbing boys shoulders as he tried to think of something to say to ease the boys pain. He thought of telling him what really happened...that it was actually Elena who had shot and killed Mike...if this kid ever thought about getting even, he didnt want her being the one to get hurt. He knew that he had to be careful about how he finished this conversation... "Look, boy...", Quint said, softly, "...Mike had a gun on me. He came at me with the obvious intent to kill me. He kidnapped me out of my own house, in the middle of the night...he had a gun on me and told me that he had a couple of friends in the back of the house with guns on my pregnant wife and my little son...I couldnt see, so I had no idea he was lying. He tried killing me in my own chair, first, with a garrot around my neck, for Christs sakes...after he got me out on the boat, I was worried sick about my family back at the house...anyway...he had that gun on me, a strong wave hit, he stumbled backward, I lept for the gun, it went off. He reached for one of the boat hooks and lunged for me and I shot him, again. We were out in the middle of the damned ocean...what was I supposed to do...?". Now Quints eyes were pleading to the boy for understanding, even though he knew he was lying, it was what he felt he had to do to ensure his wifes safety, just in case. His eyes were pleading for her. "Now...what would you have done, boy?", Quint added. After wiping his eyes, a bit ashamed and embarrassed, sniffing, Todd agreed that, most likely, he would have done the same thing Quint had done. Quint then asked him if he had helped him out any and was deeply touched when Todd looked up at him, a sad smile on his tear-stained face and said, sort of pathetically, "I really appreciat youre taking the time out to talk to me, Quint...it seems...no one at home has the time to talk to me, anymore...". "Listen", Quint told him, himself now feeling the sting of tears welling up behind his eyes, "I'm taking my son out fishing today...would ya like to come with us?". The look of excitement and happiness on this kids face was almost enough to make Quint lose it. The expression on this boys face was the same as if Quint had just told him that God had just come down from Heaven and had brought his sister back to him. Choking back emotion, Quint stood up and walked toward the door. Todd followed. Quint was wanting to keep his face away from Todds view just as Todd had wanted to ealrier...and for the same reeason...to hide those watery eyes. This macho male ego thing was really a pain in the ass, sometimes. As they walked toward the door, Quint kept his back to Todd. Speaking gruffly, clearing his throat, he said, "You get on home now, boy...ask your folks if you can go with us for the day...er, you got a fishin' rod, boy?". Todd shook his head...no. "Ah, well...never mind, then...", Quint waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, "...I think I may have an extra...if not, I can borrow one from one of the guys at the docks....now, get on home and talk with your folks...make sure to be back here by noon...thats when we're leaving for the boat". "But, what if they wont let me go?", Todd asked, looking frightened and wide-eyed. He really wanted to go fishing with Quint. Quint paused. He hadnt really thought of that. After all...if they werent paying enough attention to thier son to even set down and just listen to him, then he was sure they wouldnt mind him going somewhere for the day. "Well, then...I tell you what", Quint said, "If youre not here at noon, then I'll come and get ya!". He was useing that 'I-want-something-and-I'm-going-to-get-it-one-way-or-another' tone of voice, but quickly realized that it might not be so appropriate at this particular moment in time, so he changed his attitude to a more subtle one. With a devilish twinkle in his eye, Quint grinned, "I'll tell your folks I hired you as an official fishing guide and I'm taking you out today for training". Then he gave off one of those "Heh"!'s that usually sets Elena off into a fit of giggles. Todds smile was worth the effort. As Quint watched Todd walk out through the front door and down the pathway, he thought about when he was Todds age...how there were many times that he had wished that there would have been someone that he could have found just to talk to when he needed it. His father was never around and his mother had died when he was very small. His grandparents were there to help him as much as they could be, but he never felt comfortable enough with them to be able to set down and talk with them about how he may have been feeling at any given moment. They were warm and loving people, but Quint always felt like they were afraid to get too 'attached' to him for fear of being so hurt again, should anything happen to him as it did with his mother, their only daughter. Quint understood how they felt and was never bitter about it, but it did nothing to help ease his loneliness. Thats one of the reasons why he loved the Navy so much when he first joined...there were lots of other guys, just like him, also looking for someone to talk to. He suddenly felt a little tug at his shirt-tail, breaking his train of thought. He looked down and saw his little son smiling up at him. "Daddy...when are we going fishing?", Mikey asked impatiently, but still smiling. Smiling proudly and lovingly back down at his adorable little son, he tossled the little guys red/blond curls. Quint silently prayed that he'd always be around so that his son would always have someone to come and talk to. "When both of the hands on the clock are pointing straight up to the numbers on the very top", Quint told him patiently, reminding him how he and mommy were teaching him how to tell time, "You know what time that is, boy?". "Twelve o'clock!", Mikey shouted gleefully. "Thats right!", Quint roared happily, lifting his son and hugging him, grinning madly with pride, "Now, lets go see if we can sweet-talk your mommy into making us a big picnic basket full of grub for our trip, ok?" "Yeah!", Mikey agreed excitedly. Elena asked how things had went and Quint told her, in detail. He told her how he felt sorry for the kid...how it looks like the boy just didnt have anyone to talk about his loss with and how Quint felt that talking is a mans way of grieving, like womens way is crying. "Oh, youre such a chauvenist, Michael Joseph!...I remember a time when you cried!", she scolded. Shocked, he demanded, "When?!...When did you...or anyone else, for that matter, see ME cry?!?". She turned towards him, a patronizing - but gentle - expression on her face, speaking softly she said, "When I was in the hospital after Hannigan shot me...and you told me that you couldnt live without me...". Embarrassed, Quint grumbled, "Aww...you cant count that...that was when I thought you were dying!", his cheeks burning with a red blush. She smiled as she stepped toward him, taking his hand into hers, "Its okay, honey...I promise I'll always keep that just between us, okay?". He looked down at her sternly, "You'd better!". She giggled. She understood his male ego and she knew how to pamper it. after all...it was one of the reasons why she found him so sexy and exciting! Changing the subject, she asked, "So...what were you two getting so excited about a minute ago?". "We want you to make us a big picnic basket for fishing!...And we want TWINKIES!!", Mikey squealed. Elena smiled, "Alright, son...I will do just that...I'll put in lots of twinkies, too...now you go and change your clothes...youre not going to get that fishy smell into your nice, neww sweater!". "Okay, mommy", Mikey said, as he ran off toward the stairs. As soon as Mikey was out of hearing range, she lit into Quint. "Whats the matter with you, inviting that boy, from that family, out on the Orca with my son?!?...Have you lost your mind??!", she hissed through her teeth, angrier than Quint had ever seen her. "Relax, woman", Quint demanded gently, his eyes serious, "This kid isnt a Hannigan...his sister just happened to marry one". She snapped, "Water seeks its own level, Michael", she glared at him angrily, insinuating that Lindy Ellerbee must have a psycho, too, to have been attracted to such a psycho. With a smart-assed smirk on his face, Quint quipped, "Oh, really, now?...As I recall, youre father didnt want you marrying me...he thought I was a 'no good for nothing bum'...does that make you a 'good for nothing bum', too?". She was embarrassed...she didnt know Quint knew about that...she had never told him. But she didnt know that Quint had phoned her home one evening and her father answered it without her knowing, either...until just now. "How did you know about that?", she asked, looking downward, too embarrassed to make eye contact. Her father called him that all the time to her. She hated it. And she hated her father for saying it all the time. He told her about that night he called to ask her out on a date and what her father said to him. "I'm sorry, Michael...", as she started to cry. He held her, smiling, rubbing her back for comfort, "You dont have to be sorry, baby...you never knew about it. I didnt tell you because it didnt matter then, just as it doesnt matter, now...lets drop it, ok?". She turned to grab a paper towel to use as a temporary hankie. As she did, Quint spoke. "Honey...this kid is not dangerous, okay?...Please trust me on this...you know I love you and Mikey...you have to believe that I would never put either of you in danger...". She looked up at him, dabbing at her nose with the paper towel, "I believe that, dear...". "Okay, then...", he continued, his arm securely around her delicate, white shoulders, kissing her forehead lightly, "...This is just a lonely kid who lost about the only pal he ever had in the world...his sister...the only person who ever gave him the time of day...we all have the same thing in common...". "What?", she asked, curious. "We're all victims of Mike Hannigan". It was the truth. She couldnt argue with that. So, she just nodded in agreement, then set about to pack thier lunch for the trip. ********************************************************************************** Todd walked into his house without his father even noticing. He was setting in his big lounge chair, staring out the window. "Where's mom?", Todd had to ask him...twice. "Hmmm?...Oh...she's upstairs, in bed, I think...", he said, absent-mindedly, never even looking up at him. "Well, is it okay if I go fishing?", Todd asked sheepishly, his hands in his pockets, staring down, knowing his father was ignoring him again. "Yeah, yeah...", his father waved at him, "...go ahead, son...be careful", came his fathers automatic answer. Well...at least his father still thought enough of him to say it, as if he really were concerned for his welfare, Todd thought, sarcastically...and hurt. He went upstairs and put on an extra shirt and then a sweatshirt ontop of that, then grabbed his jacket and the baseball cap that his sister had given him on his last birthday, this past july. He had worn his boots over to the mayors house, but he knew he should change into his sneakers...the rubber soles would keep him from slipping on the wet deck of the boat. On his way back down the hall, he peeked into his mothers room. She was laying on her side, facing away from the door, toward the window...crying. He couldnt take anymore of any of this. He walked briskly down the hall, down the stairs and out the front door as quickly as he could, without even looking back. He hadnt even remembered about packing himself a lunch until he was halfway to the mayors house. He was hungry, too. He hadnt even had breakfast. He looked at his watch...it was five minutes to twelve, so he didnt have time to go back. He had no idea that Elena Quint was packing a huge lunch for all of them, so he resigned to the thought that he would just eat when he got back home tonight. After all...he'd went longer than one day without eating, before. As he passed Shell Cove street, he stopped. He thought about walking up to the Hannigans house to see his little nephew, but they wouldnprobably tell him that the baby was asleep or something. They didnt like sharing the baby with the Ellerbees when it was thier turn to have him. And he couldnt understand why his parents decided to share that little boys life with those people, anyway...he didnt want Lindys son, his nephew, to grow up with people that raised such a dick like Mike. The thought sent shivers down his spine, but there wasnt anything he could do right now...he really needed this fishing trip...for his sanity...and he didnt want to be late. Within a matter of minutes, he was setting in the front seat of Quints truck, on thier way to the docks. ********************************************************************************** Quint watched Todd as he stood on the deck of the Orca, facing the stern, watching land disappear behind them as they went farther and farther out. He half expected Todd to ask how far they were going to go out into the ocean, but he never asked. Todd wanted to go out, as far as they could go. Quint honestly felt badly for the boy...Todd had told him as they were boarding the Orca, "Oh, they'll never even really notice that I'm gone" in a wistful tone, after Quint had asked him if he had gotten permission. Between Quint and Mikey, Todd caught on to fishing quite quickly. By the late afternoon, he was fishing like he had been doing it all of his life. He'd caught four pikes, two carpies and a 2 pound tuna by the time Quint called break time for 'lunch'. Quint started feeling even worse for Todd as he watched him eat...the kid put away four sandwhiches and three sodas without even taking a breath, it seemed. He wondered if the kid was ever even fed. The boys wanted to fish some more after they ate, but Quint wouldnt allow them to unless they wore lifejackets. If they fell overboard, they could get a cramp and drown. Quint only carried two lifejackets on this day because he'd lent Bill Toddman his extra's...Bill was taking his and his sisters kids out fishing today, too. Though Quint swore he would never again put on another lifejacket after the Indianapolis disaster, he had always worn one as an example for his son. He couldnt very well tell his son to do something that he, himself, wouldnt do. He didnt want to be a hypocryte in the eyes of his son. So, he would force those horrid memories from his mind and put the jacket on...for his sons sake. But he was cut a break today...there was a guest on board today and it ws unexpected...so Todd got his lifejacket and he was spared the agony of wearing it. The boys went back to fishing after suiting up with the lifejackets, while Quint decided to stay inside the cabin and have a beer...or two. He figured he'd give them a few more hours before they would set sail for home. He was pleased that Todd and Mikey had formed such a close bond, so quickly...and despite thier age differences, too. This was a good thing for the both of them. All boys needed a 'pal'. After about twenty minutes, and into his second beer already, Quint hear Mikey scream. It tightened his stomach into a solid knot and his blood ran cold. He choked on his beer and spewed it all over his shirt and the table in front of him. Choking, coughing and struggling to get up from behind the table in the little, cramped cabin, he finally got a foothold and sprinted toward the door. He saw both boys (thank God...he didnt want Elena to had been right about what she'd been worried about before they left) standing on the starboard side, staring down over the side, into the water. "What the hell is going on?!", Quint demanded, wiping beer from his chin with his shirt sleeve, shaking like a leaf in the wind, his eyes wide and dark with fear. "A shark, Quint!", Todd said, totally amazed and wide-eyed. "A really, really BIG shark, daddy!!", Mikey added. If ever there was a time that Quint thought there was a chance that he would pass out from fright, it was now. He actually saw dots in front of his eyes. He thought, "Oh, God...not here...not now", as he raced to the edge to look for himself. It was just a 'big' shark, it was several 'big' sharks. There must have been eight to ten white tips circling the Orca. Todd stepped back like he'd stepped on something he shouldnt have, "W-why are they swimming around us like that, Quint?"...he was trying not to sound as scared as he actually was. Without taking his eyes off of the sharks, Quint answered him, "...Could be the minnows you two are useing for bait, could be the fish that are attracted to the bait...who knows why a shark does anything?". Quint walked from starboard to stern then to portside, watching every mood those sharks made, every direction they went in. As he turned to tell the boys, "Get into the cabin...now!", he made a step forward, tripping over his tackle box and falling overboard...right into the circle of sharks. Mikey let out a blood-curdling scream. Fortunately (for Quint), the sharks were frightened away by the noise of such a huge, sudden splash...only they quickly returned to investigate. From experience, Quint knew to stay very still and to keep his heart rate slow...sharks relied on thier extra sensitive senses to pick up the smells and tastes of anything in distress. When a human was frightened, they would release what are called 'pherones' from the pores in thier skin...pherones were produced by an excess of adrenalin and adrenalin was produced when your heart rate sped up...like when one was terrified. So, he tried remaining as calm and as still as he possibly could... Unfortunately, sharks are extremely curious creatures. And, since they had no hands to feel or a tongue to taste and thier eyesight wasnt all that great, they would bump something or...bite it...to find out what the object of thier curiosity was. And several of them had already bumped him...one bold little shark had already come up and ripped his hand open for a taste. And Quint knew quite well that, once those sharks got a taste of that blood, it was only a matter of seconds before they began a deadly feeding frenzy - with him as thier main course. "Quint!!", Todd yelled, "What do I do??". But Quint couldnt yell. He couldnt make any noise or movement or he would set off these sharks for sure. He just shook his head as easily as he could. Todd was frantic. Mikey was screaming and crying and panicking. Quints heart thumped inside of his chest. He tried to stay calm, but the thought of his son watching him die as he had watched his own mother be ripped apart by those sharks went beyond horror in Quints mind. He closed his eyes and prayed...it was all Quint knew how to do, right then. "Oh, God...", he whispered, "Take me...do what you will...I'm not afraid to die...but not this way...not in front of my son...oh, God...I beg of you...". The visions of his mothers traumatic death played like a movie, frame by frame, in his mind, behind his closed eyes...and the emtional scars opened in his heart, spilling out terror that, now, his own son was going to experience. Quint suddenly realized that today was his judgement day. He knew that, if he had done things right in his life, that God would show Hid divine mercy and not let him be eaten alive by these sharks in front of his little son and this other boy who had already experienced his own recent tragedy. But...if he'd made too many mistakes.... Another shark chomped down on his left foot and shook it, pulling him under. The last thing he heard before going under were his sons high-pitched screams..."Daddy!!...DADDY!!", inbetween his little heart-wrenching sobs. Quint blacked out. ********************************************************************************** When Quint came to, he was being smacked and poked with the end of one of his long boat hooks as Todd frantically to catch his shirt with it so he could drag him to the boat and get him on board. And Todd had no idea how he was going to accomplish that task, either...mayor Quint was a huge guy...! Quint looked around him in the water...oddly enough, there were no sharks in sight. Weakly, he grabbed at the end of the boat hook and, after a few feeble attempts, managed to grasp it. He held onto the end of the hook and paddle with his free hand. Both Todd and Mikey pulled on the other end of the hook with all of thier might, yelling for Quint to "Hurry!!". They yanked and tugged on Quint once they got him to the edge of the Orca, trying to help him to climb in quickly. He managed to get one leg over the side, but he kept slipping back. Todd told Mikey, "Lets give one good yank, on the count of three"...Mikey, as little as he was, nodded his head up and down, almost comically...this little boy with such a huge, sudden responsibility, ready for action. Quint would later be so proud of him that he was sure his heart would burst when he bragged about it! Both the boys got a good, sturdt grip on Quints wet clothing. "One...two...three!!", Todd counted, then they tugged simultaniously with all thier might. And with that tug, Quint came over the side, into the boat, sopping wet and out of breath...but extremely relieved. He was alive. Bleeding and in pain, but alive. God had spared him. Breathing heavily and Mikey hanging onto him for dear life, (and he held his son like he would never let go, either), Quint asked, "What happened?". "Well", Todd began, out of breath, himself, still, and quite shaky, "I realized that those sharks needed to be diverted away from you if we were going to get you out of the water, so Mikey and me got to cutting up our catch and dumping it over the starboard side and the stern to get thier attention...I mean, you were the one who said they were probably after the fish...anyway, you were right...they went for it...when they got to fighting real good over those fish, we grabbed the boat hook and got to fishing you out...". Quint smiled...he was honestly proud of Todd for his quick thinking...it saved his life! "Thanks, Todd...that was a real smart thing to do...I'm proud of you...". Quint knew he had said the right thing by the huge smile on Todd's face. He also guessed that he had done things fairly right in his life, after all, at least, by God. He looked up at the sky and whispered a heart-felt "thank you" as he hugged and kissed his little boy. "Daddy", Mikey said, worried, "I know you told me that I should never play with knives...but i had to help Todd get you out of the water...and we had to hurry...". Quint gave off a loud, hearty laugh as he tossled Mikeys curls and hugged him..."Its okay, this time...you helped Todd save my life and I cant be angry with you because I'm just so damned proud of you, son!", Quints smile was huge and warm and happy...Mikey knew, by that smile, that he wasnt in any trouble after all. With Quints hand and foot all tore up, he couldnt maneuvre the boat to get them back home, so he had to teach Todd what to do. Todds face beamed with pride at all this responsibility! When they all returned home and Elena saw Quints bloody hand and foot, she went ballistic! Quitn comforted her as best he could, but eventually said to her, "Honey...please dont make me worried over you...I cant help it, but I need you to worry over me, this time...without the panic, okay?". She stopped crying and asked Todd - no, told him - to stay with Mikey while she ran Quint to the hospital. Quint was still so badly shaken that he could hardly think straight. Todd stayed the night with Mikey...he was concerned about Mikey maybe having nightmares or something. It seemed that Todd had found a replacement for his sister...he had himself a new 'buddy', now...Mikey was, to Todd (at this point), his new 'little brother'. Later that night, as Quint sat in the library, sipping warmed apricot brandy, Todd came in to ask if he could use the phone to call home and let them know he was staying the night and what had happened. After the sadness he had seen in this boys eyes and how this boy, neglected by everyone, he said, "To hell with that, boy...if they complain about it, I'll take care of it....tomorrow". Then Quint thought about what had happened this day...his judgement day...and wondered how this inconsiderate decision would look if there ever came another one...and he changed his mind. "Listen, Todd...I will call your folks. You go and play those video games or go eat or something. Rest and enjoy yourself...you earned it". Todd walked out, smiling, "Yes, sir...Quint". Quint thought that this was a polite kid, despite his parents who obviously didnt give a shit. But they must have cared at one point, because he didnt come along with these good manners and this considerate nature on his own. He couldnt have. So, when Quint phoned the Ellerbee's, he was polite and considerate, telling them about what had happened and that Todd was fine and well...how they should be greatly proud of him and how he was staying the night with thier son to help him cope with any nightmares he might have. Mr. Ellerbee stil sounded despondant, but was delighted, anyway, that his son had made such grown-up decisions and had saved someones life...he did sound proud, through his obvious pain. That night, as Quint lay in bed, Quint wondered why God had given him so many "life-tests" - useing sharks? Quint had never really been a very religious man, but he had always believed in God...thanks to his Irish grandmother. She used to tell little Michael that God would often test ones faith throughout life to see if he were still worthy of going to Heaven. Well, Quint never came up with an answer to the shark question, but he did pray that this would be the last time...as he studied his throbbing, bandaged hand and felt the shooting pain of his mangled left foot. Despite all the blood and pain, these were, fortunately, only severe surface wounds. The doc stitched them up, bandaged them up, and gave him a fist full of pain killers. He thought it was strange, though, that they required stitches...he had once had his leg ripped open by a panicky thresher shark when he tried pulling it on board. That wound was worse than these two, put together and he didnt get stitches then.... "God...", Quint whipered into the darkness, "I hope this is the last judgement I have to face until the big one comes along...I'm gettin' too old for this shit...", then he rolled over and went to sleep. Quint and Elena ended up being loving, attentive mentors to Todd. He stayed with them often and even spent some holidays with them. They were at his high school graduation and then they saw him off to college. They even went to court with him when he petitioned the court to adopt his nephew. Once the judge heard the story and took the grandparents ages into consideration...and got a glowing report from the mayor, himself, concerning Todds outstanding character, it didnt take the judge long to come back with a favorable decision for Todd. And Todd was quite greatful. Quint felt he had finally paid back the debt to Todd for saving his life...he was now a responsible, working adult, going to college part ime, working the rest and with his own home. Quint, though he wouldnt really come out and say it, felt as if Todd were his own son. He was as proud of him as if he actually were. Quint had even started going to church on sundays after this last shark attack, which totally shocked everyone. On thier walk back home from church that first sunday, Elena asked him if the shark attack was what brought on his sudden quest for religion. He looked over at her, smiled, patted her arm and said, "I just want to make sure that if I ever have another judgement day, that is going to be my last one and I wont have to worry about it like I did this last time". She smiled and laid her head on his arm as they walked down the quiet street thier home was on. "Oh, yeah....", Quint thought, to himself, "...The last time...", as he let out a quiet sigh of relief and looked up and gave God a wink. *****************THE END***********************

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