
"Daddy", Mikey asked, speaking softly, so that he wouldnt disturb his sleeping mommy. "Yes, son?". "When 'Lizbeth gets older, like me, do we have to take her fishing with us?", he had a puzzled look on his face. The answer to this question was of great importance to Mikey...going fishing with his dad was the one thing in this whole world that he loved most...and he didnt really like the idea of sharing it with anyone else...even his own sister. Quint immediately thought about the Orca. How was he going to tell his son about thier boat? They werent even going to be able to fish anymore without her. Oh, sure...he could always buy a new boat...but it was never going to be the same without the Orca. He knew Mikey loved her, too...he was always talking about how she was going to belong to him when he grew up. How was Quint going to tell him that the Orca no longer existed? Well, no need to tell him, now, Quint decided. He was dealing with this storm, learning to accept his new little sister, just getting his family back. The little guy had enough to deal with, right now...there would be plenty of time, later, to give him the bad news. "Well", Quint sighed, "Lets answer that question like this...say you and I got sick and we couldnt work...you dont work, you dont have money, you dont have money, you cant buy food...right?". Mikey nodded. "Okay", Quint continued, "So, you and I are sick, so neither of us can even go out and bring in any fish to eat for supper...and youre momma and little sister are getting sick because theyre so hungry. What do we do?". Mikey thought hard. He couldnt come up with an answer. "I dont know", he shrugged. "Now, think about it", Quint explained, patiently, "If we had taught your sister to fish, as soon as she was old enough to learn, none of us would starve, right?". Catching on, Mikey smiled, "Right!". "So...", Quint said, setting back in his chair, tipping his cap back on his head, raising his eyebrows and crossing his injured leg slowly over his other leg...hanging gently - but securely - onto his little daughter, "it makes good sense to teach your sister to fish...just as soon as shes able to learn, right?...I mean, we can never have too many fishermen in the family, right?". "Right", Mikey nodded in agreement. Leaning toward Mikey, Quint whispered, "Besides...it'll be quite awhile, anyway, before shes ready", he grinned. Mikey smiled a sly little grin, looking back to make sure mommy didnt hear. He didnt want her to think he didnt like his little sister, or anything! This father-son conversation went on for hours, while the hurricane raged on and Elena and Elizabeth slept. At about 8:30pm, the baby began fussing and it woke Elena. "Hi, honey...!", she smiled tiredly at Quint, "When did you get here...?". "I've been here for hours", his smile was slight and tense, but warm, "how do you feel, woman?". "Oh, I'm tired...but otherwise I'm fine", she held out her arms, "You'd better give her to me so I can feed her...she's hungry". Quint carefully carried the baby back to her mother and laid her gently into Elenas arms. "But, how are you going to feed her, mom?...You got no bottle of milk in here...", Mikey asked curiously. Quint and Elena exchanged curious glances. The kid was just too damned smart for his own good...but they still werent ready to explain breast-feeding to him. Quint leaned down and kissed Elena sweetly, then told her they would be back, later. "Come on, boy...", Quint told Mikey, taking him by the hand to lead him out of the room, "This is womans business and we've got no part in it". "But...", Mikey protested, looking back at his mom and sister as his dad pulled him along. Once the door was closed, Elena set about feeding her daughter. The hurricane raged on through most of the night. Most of the people in the police station slept, but some of the guys played poker, including Quint - when he wasnt up and down out of his chair, checking to see if his family was still okay. Someone had a radio going. They were listening to weather reports in between soft music. The song that Quint had always considered to be he and Elenas 'song' started playing. It was a Beatles tune called "If I Fell In Love With You". He reminisced about how he used to sing that song to her all the time...all through thier courting. after they were married and, even, when she was carrying Mikey. Even when they had been apart those twenty years, he would think of her whenever he heard it. Then he remembered that he hadnt sang it to her in a long time...the urge now struck him to do so. "I'll be right back, guys", Quint grinned from ear-to-ear, rising from his chair. "Jeeeeezz, Quint!", Chet Williams said, "You were just in there five minutes ago!...Theyre not going anywhere, okay?". Quint just grinned back at Chet as he walked away from the candlelit, make-shift poker table. Quint knelt down on the floor, next to the sofa, where Elena was lying...supposedly sleeping. He removed his cap and leaned in toward her, placing his lips close to her ear, then started softly singing the song they had always considered thiers. "If I fell in love with you...would you promise to be true...and help me understand...", he sang softly. Her eyes were closed, but a smile spread across her face. "...Cuz I've been in love before...and I found that love was more...than just holding hands...", he sang more, smiling with her. She turned her head and kissed his lips softly, still smiling. "...If I gave my heart to you...I must be sure from the very start...that you...would love me more than her...", he was grinning madly. She slipped her free arm up around his neck and they kissed passionately. Looking at her with such love in his eyes, he told her, "Thank you, missus...for giving me a wonderful son and such a beautiful daughter...". "My pleasure, darling", she smiled. "I'm going to go and try to find you something to eat, lady", he whispered authoritively, "You need your strength". "You'll do no such thing, Michael Jacob Quint!", she snapped back, "I know theres no food here, in the station...Polly told me!...I had to feed Mikey a candy bar that I'd had in my purse for his dinner...and theres NO way that I am going to allow you to go back out into that storm with your hurt leg and those raw, bloody fingers!!...", she meant business. Lightening the tone of her voice alittle, she asked, "How did all that happen, anyway?". He explained it to her hurriedly...then told her that he was going out there, regardless. "Look, 'Lena...the eye of the storm is overhead...I have about an hour before it all hits again and I'm going to use that time to get you and my children what they need before it comes back around. Now, its only raining slightly out there right now. We all need food, drink, medical supplies, blankets, candles, lamp oil, flashlights...". "Okay...okay!", she waved her hand. Sighing heavily, she gave in, "...Your injuries have been worrying me like crazy...I'm scared to death theyre going to get infected!...And I dont like my son going to bed, hungry...", she gave her little boy a sad, guilty look, "...I would like him to have something to eat when he wakes up...". "So...youre giving me your blessing then, woman?", Quint eyed her carefully...knowing he was going anyway, but didnt want her upset in her condition. "Only if you promise to take someone with you when you go...", she sighed, pleading with her eyes. He could see, by that look, that his leaving was going to worry her, but there was nothing he could about that. He had to go and get food and supplies. "Okay", he said, smiling. As he bent down to kiss her goodbye, he told her, "...I'll be back very soon...and...", he grinned, kissing her again, "...in one piece, too". "You'd better!!", she giggled. He p[aused a moment before walking out the door. He looked down at Mikey, sleeping at the other end of the sofa, clinging to his mothers legs for warmth. He looked at his baby daughter, content with her full belly, asleep and looking so peaceful in her mothers arms. Then, he looked at Elena...such a sweet, happy smile on her face. The love he felt for them warmed him throughout. He smiled and winked at her, then put his cap back on and closed the door behind him as he walked out. "Martin", Quint whispered, so as not to waken anyone, "the eye of the storm is overhead...we need to take this opportunity to get out there and get into the stores and get some supplies...". "Are you sure its safe out there??", Martin asked, "How long you figure we've got if we go?". "Youre talking to an experienced sailor, Chief...", Quint said, looking out the window, "as far as how much time we got, the rain slowed down at about...Chet...whats your watch say?...". "It says 'tick'-'tick'-'tick'...", Chet grinned. "Smartass...!", Quint grinned. Still chuckling, Chet told him that it was about half past ten. "Okay, then", Quint was getting serious again, "its been slow for about fifteen minutes...we could have anywhere from another fifteen minutes to an hour and a half to get what we need, so we had better move quick...anyone here with keys to any of the stores?". "Barbara Gillespie", Martin said, after a moment of thought, "...She has food in her cafe...and Connie Claridge...she owns the bed and breakfast...we could get blankets and pillows", Martin made a funny face when he spoke of Connie and Quint understood it. Connie was a cheap old bitch. She'd probably send everyone a friggin bill for everything, even if it were a single kitchen match. Quint rolled his eyes. "Dont worry about her, chief", Quint smirked, "I'll just promise her that damned permit first thing and she'll help us out...but you had better be the one to talk to her...she likes you". "Ha-ha", Martin smirked back at him, "thanks alot!". Pause. "Anyway", Martin continued, "Connie has all those blankets and pillows and stuff...maybe even some cots...". Brenda, Quints secretary, had been awake and listening. "I just bought alot of sheets, blankets and pillows because I have alot of family coming in next month", she said, "theyre in the trunk of my car...I've just been too scared to go out there and get them, though...". "I dont blame you", Martin told her, "...We probably wouldnt have let you go out there, anyway", he smiled politely. Then Chet told the guys that he had a couple of flashlights out in his truck and Roy piped in and admitted to a big first aid kit out in his truck. "But what about the other stuff we need?", Roy asked. "Eminent domain", Quint said, "We take what we need in an emergency...for the good of the people". "Very good!!", Martin grinned. "One of the first things I learned when I was learning to be mayor", Quint grinned back at him, "Okay, now...we have to get going to beat the storm...lets get moving". The men quickly laid out a plan of action, while Brenda and Polly woke up Connie Claridge and Barbara Gillespie and explained to them why. As expected, Connie was complaining. Barbara was just the opposite...ready to go get what was needed, without question. Before Quint and Martin headed out the door, Quint looked up at the sky. "You know", he said, "if it was just me, I wouldnt be setting one foot out this door until that storm was completely over". "Yeah", Martin agreed, "We do it all for love, dont we, pal?". "Yep", Quint smiled, thinking of his family in that back office. The two stood there, staring at the mess in the streets that the first round of the hurricane made. The Martin clapped Quint on the back and chuckled, "Yeah...love aint blind...its stupid!". They laughed and walked hesitantly off the porch. Quint and Martin carried with them the keys to both Connie Claridges Bed and Breakfast Inn and Barbara Gillespies cafe...and Martin would use the butt of his police pistol to gain entry into the other businesses that they didnt have keys to. It took all seven of them - Quint, Martin, Chet, Roy, James and Clark Tibbs - less than 45 minutes to get enough blankets, pillows, food and drinks (coffee, sodas, juice, etcetera) for the twenty-four people who were holed up in the station for three days, just in case. They also got enough lamp oil, candles, flashlights and batteries to light the place for three days...only the storm would most likely be over by morning. When they returned to the station, they just got insode the gate when a strong gust of wind hit them and the rain started coming down. "Looks like we called it close!", Quint yelled, "Everyone inside!...Now!". Everyone ran to the station door. The first thing Quint did was to take his wife and son thier two blankets...and a pillow for his boy. But he also wanted to let Elena know that he had returned and was safe so that she wouldnt worry any longer than he figured she'd already had. "I was worried", she said, as Quint bent down to hug her, "I heard the wind...then the rain...". "We got inside, just in time", he smiled, "...I got more blankets and a pillow for Mike...", he was gently placing the pillow under Mikeys sleeping head, "...And as soon as the ladies out front get the food together, I'll bring you something to eat...", he was now putting blankets on her and Mikey, "...I'll go and get you some juice, now". "No, Michael", she said as he slipped a pillow behind her, "First, I want you to bring me some soapy water, antiseptic and bandages so I can tend to those wounds of yours". He sighed deeply, rolling his eyes. Jeeez! She was pushy!! "Yes, mother!", he said, sarcastically - but with an understanding smile. His knee was already sorely infected. He clutched the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white and his teeth were clenched so tight that he thought they would crack under the pressure from the pain Elena caused when she dabbed the wound with alcohol. It burned like hell! Finally, she dressed it with clean bandages...but it still throbbed painfully. "Jesus H Christ!!", he hissed, trying not to be so loud that he woke Mikey, "I wished that alcohol was the drinking kind!!". But his fingers were worse. Two of his fingernails had been torn completely off from digging and clutching the sides of buildings and anything else he could hang onto out in that storm. It took her a long time to clean and dress each of his ten fingers...he had dirt and pebbles in the wounds and under everyone of his remaining fingernails and he had splinters everywhere! She knew his stubborness. It was a poerful emotion not ever to be reckoned with. She knew there were times when he would let her win an argument...but, if he decided to be adamant about something, there was no reasoning with him. But she just couldnt understand how he could possibly go on and on in as much pain as these wounds must have caused. It was unbelievable. He sat there, silently, all the time she tended to him, but as she was wrapping the last finger, he spoke. "The Orcas been destroyed", he blurted out, so softly that she didnt understand what he said. "What was that, honey?", she asked. "I said, the Orca has been detroyed". She looked up into his face...now she didnt know if that pained look was caused by the wounds to his fingers and knee...or the wound to his heart. This was awful!...She knew he loved that boat...sometimes, she felt, he loved that boat more than he loved her. This was tragic news. She prayed this was something he could get over in time, but she doubted it. This was going to be a heartache that was never going to go away. And she knew it wasnt going to be easy on Mikey, either... "I...I'm sorry, Michael...I really am...", she told him, not really knowing what else to say. She finished bandaging his last finger, then pulled him to her and held him. When she did, he suddenly broke down, sobbing. She was actually shocked. In all the years that she had known him, she'd never seen him break down like this. She had seen him shed tears, but not break down so hard that every sob shook his very bones!...It actually scared her! Quint was her 'rock'...the single, steady, solid force in her life...the only thing that she could cling to when she was afraid. Now, it felt to her, as if her 'rock' were crumbling. Oh, she understood why he was so hurt...it just scared her to see him that way. But she hurt, too. She held him tightly and rocked him, rubbing his back and shoulders, comforting him as best she could while he let out his pain. Letting it out was good for him, she thought...she just wished it wasnt about something that was going to continue hurting him. Anyway, this was going to take awhile. It was alot of hurt. He was going to have to get this all out completely before it would be done. It went on for about twenty minutes, before his sobs subsided enough to where he could let go of her and begin to calm himself. She reached over and pulled some tissues from her purse. "I'm sorry, honey", he told her, setting back, wiping his eyes, not looking at her, "...I guess everything just built up inside me and the dam finally broke". "Dont be sorry, babe...", she smiled, a sad, sweet smile as she rubbed his arm and soflty touched his face, "...you deserved it". He told her that he had to use the bathroom - he needed to be alone. His masculinity was at a low point, right then, having cried in front of her...in front of anyone. So, he got up and went down the hall. The islands water supply had been shut off incase there was a break somewhere, like a hydrant being blown out or knocked down. Thier water was piped in from the mainland and if they had a huge loss of supply, they may be shut off completely...or have a huge bill they might not be able to cover. Someone had placed a jug of bottled water on the back of the toilet tank. Quint stopped up the sink and poured some in and washed his face. The water was cold and it did good taking the redness from his face and the puffiness from his eyes. He lingered awhile, washing his face over and over, cupping water into his hands and holding them up to his closed eyes and keeping it there until the water seeped out through his fingers. Ther came a knock at the door. Someone had to use the 'head'. Quint grabbed a couple of the paper towels and dried his face, "Just a minute...", he called out to the person on the other side of the door. When he had dried his face and hands, he tossed the wet paper towels into the trash can and turned the room over to the waiting Josh Warren.