
"The ladies are serving up a late dinner, mayor", Josh smiled. "Thanks, Warren", Quint smiled back, politely, trying to duck around the corner into the hallway, not wanting Josh to see his still reddish, puffy face - or asking any questions about it. Nevertheless, he knew he was going to have to face someone who was bound to ask questions about his appearance, so, on his way down the hall to the main office, he came up with the excuse that he had fallen asleep...that would be his reason as to why his face was red and puffy. He smelled food...pickles, salami, mustard...things that had strong odors without having to be cooked. He hadnt thought of food for himself all this time...those sandwiches he'd had at that cottage filled him sufficiently. He had only been concerned with nourishment for his family, especially for Elena, just having had given birth. But, when he smelled that roast beef, his stomach growled like the roar of a hungry lion! As soon as he stepped from the hallway into the main office area, Polly handed him a plate. "You eat this, mayor", she said, handing him a paper plate loaded with cold-cuts, potato salad, bread and cut, raw vegetables. She handed him the plate with her left hand, then handed him a cup of hot coffee with her right. "Thank you, Polly", he smiled, one of those smiles that make the girls squeal and the old ladies blush, "...but I need to take this to my missus, first". It was a merciful encounter for Quint...he watched her as she looked directly into his face and eyes. He knew that she had noticed he had been crying, but she said nothing. She only smiled back at him. "I've already dont that, mayor", she told him, "I made sure that she was the first one to get fed...I just took it her, while you were useing the facilities". Quint grinned. He just loved her....she was really a great lady. She reminded him of his beloved grandmother. "Polly...", he grinned widely, talking softly, "...Missus Quint had better be worried...someday she just might find out that you and I have run off together!". "Oh, mayor!", she giggled, blushing, then playfully patting his arm. His mischievous blue eyes twinkled. "Quint!", Martin called, "Come over and set with us". He was setting with Roy, Chet, Simms, Baker and Burns. "Listen to that hurricane scream, out there!", Quint commented, "...sounds like the tail-end is going to be worse than the front part of it!". "Yeah", Clyde Collins piped in, "...Ive been on this island all of my life and I've never seen anything like this before". "Quint", Martin said, between mouthfuls of food, "I bet you've seen some 'doozys' in your sailing days". "That I have, chief...that I have", Quint recalled. Ellen walked by and told the guys that she was going in to set with Elena awhile. They nodded. "Tell us about some of them, Quint", Chet asked. So, Quint and they guys sat around, eating, drinking coffee by lamplight...the men completely entranced with Quints stories of the sea - and personal experiences with hurricanes... And he did, indeed, have some 'doozys' to tell about. About 4am, everyone was asleep, except for Martin and Quint. The pair sat on pillows against the rear wall, talking. "Jeeez", Quint groaned, "...I sure could use a 'shot' about right now...what about you, chief?". Martin gave Quint a mischevious grin. "Be very quiet...", Martin warned him, grinning. He then got up and tip-toed back to his office, carrying his pillow with him. "What the hell is he doing??", Quint thought to himself, totally confused. A few minutes later, Martin came sneaking back, clutching his pillow closely to his body, looking around to make sure there was no one else awake. "Chief, what the hell are you up to?", Quint enquired, obviously confused. After Martin sat back down and situated himself, he looked at Quint and laid his finger to his lips, telling Quint to "shhhh!". Instead of setting on his pillow, Martin kept it on his lap, huggin it tightly. He looked around the room to make sure no one was looking, then nudged Quint with his elbow...he pointed to the pillow. Quint watched as Martin slowly pulled the pillow away from his lap, showing Quint what was underneath...a fifth of twelve-year-old scotch. "I got this from Larry Vaughn back when I became chief of Amity...", Martin whispered, grinning. "Well, break it open, 'ole buddy!", Quint grinned. The two sat there, talking and drinking...until Martin passed out. Quint looked over at Martin, who was now snoring. He deep-sighed, then took the bottle from Martins hand and finished it off, then snuggled with his own pillow...going out like a light. About 7:30am, Simms shook Martin awake. "Chief!", He kept saying, urging for Martins attention, "Look!!...Look outside!!". "What now??", Martin complained, thihnking he was being woke up for some sort of trivial little legal problem...nothing so important that it matched the importance of this hurricane. He sat up too quickly...he grabbed ahold of his pounding, hung-over head. "...Look...!!", Simms urged. Martin stood up. He looked around and noticed that everyone else was now awake, milling around, chattering happily. Several were standing at the window, looking out. Martins head throbbed. All that scotch last night had found its way to his head, this morning. He made his way slowly to the window to see what was so interesting outside. The sun was out...and very bright...it hurt his eyes severely to look at it, gleamly down brightly on the water. "The storms over!", Simms happily smiled. "I've got to get over to the boatworks", Roy O'Connor exclaimed, "I gotta see how much of a business I got left!". "And I have got to get to the docks and see if my boat made it through!", Clarke Tibbs said. "Wait!!...Wait!!", Martin exclaimed, holding his pounding head, "...Everyone just stay here - until my deputies and I go out there and assess the damage...it may not be safe! There could be downed power lines, buildings ready to fall...it may not be safe to go anywhere out there!". Over the disappointed grumbling of the crowd, Martin told Baker and Burns to go out and do a sweep of the shelters to locate Jeff Chisolm, Amity's building and structure inspector. "I want Jeff to be with us when we do the assessments", Martin said, "he's the only one whos qualified to tell us which buildings are safe and which ones arent...", he told the crowd as much as he was telling the deputies, "...So everyone just grab a cup of coffee and some of those donuts over there and have a seat...we've all been here since yesterday, so a few more hours arent going to hurt anybody". Then he got the deputies out and on thier way. As Polly and Ellen set about making a fresh pot of coffee, Mikey came out of the back office to wake up his dad. He bent down carefully over his sleeping father and whispered softly, "Daddy!". He didnt get a response, so he gently shook his dads arm, "Daddy!...Wake up!...Mommy says the hurricane is over so we can try and get her and 'Lizbeth to the hospital, now...". Quint grumbled into conciousness. Setting up, holding his own throbbing head, he told Mikey, "Okay, boy...I'm awake, now...". Ellen had been watching Mikey wake up Quint. She knew how grouchy and grumpy Martin could be to thier boys if they had woke him too early after a 'bender' the night before...so she went over to 'rescue' him in case that was what was going to happen to him. "Mikey...", she called him. At first, Mikey thought she was just calling her own son named Mike, so he paid no attention. "Mikey Quint...", she called again. "Yes, aunt Ellen?", he said, turning his attention from his father to her. "Would you like some donuts and apple juice for breakfast?", she smiled. "Yes, ma'am", he said, shyly, "...But may I take some to my mommy and give some to my daddy, first?". His loving thoughtfulness touched the hearts of the adults...especially his dad. Quint reached over and swept his son into his arms and gave him a big, bear hug and a big, wet kiss on his cheek. "Boy...youre a fine lad", Quint told him, pride gleaming in his eyes, "...but you just go on and eat with your auntie Ellen and leave me to take care of myself and your momma this morning, ok?", he was smiling proudly. "Yes, daddy", Mikey smiled faintly, before going over and filling his hungry little belly with chocolate donuts, covered in sprinkles and downing two glasses of cold, sweet apple juice, right from the start. As Quint stood (slowly) up, Chet told him, "You've got one hell of a kid there, Quint...", smiling, patting Quints back. "Yes I do...thank you", Quint said, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Good morning, mayor", Martin said, smiling dryly, handing Quint a steaming hot cup of coffee, "...drink this...we've got work to do...". Quint stepped over to the window and basically had the same reaction to the bright sun that Martin had...a shooting pain, right through his eyes and into his head. "Aarrrrgghhh!!", Quint shrieked, raising his hand quickly to cover his eyes. "Bright, isnt it?", Martin commented dryly. "Ugh!", Quint said, with an expression on his face like he had just tasted something extremely bitter, "...We've got to go out into that??", he complained. "I'm afraid so, boss", Martin answered, blowing the steam from his coffee, "Ive got Baker and Burns out, rounding up Jeff Chisolm...when they get him here, we'll have to make our rounds around town...he's gonna red-tag all the unsafe structures for us...we'll know where to go and what to do from there". "Well", Quint said, sipping his coffee, "...While all thats going on, I've either got to find a way to contact the department of public works or organize a clean-up from here so we can get these streets unblocked...I've just got to get my gals to the hospital to be checked out". As the two stood there, drinking thier coffee, Quint contemplated the situation. His thoughts took him along these lines: Elena = baby = hospital = roads = truck...then he remembered something... "Jesus H. Christ!", Quint let out in amazement. "What?", Martin asked, curious. "...I borrowed that old chevy truck out there", Quint told him, jerking his head to one side, sort of nodding in the trucks direction, "...Babs' truck quit on me, down the street from this cottage...I got to the cottage and took the truck from there...I had to hot-wire it to get it going", he had a very curious expression on his face. "So??", Martin queried. "...I never pulled the wires, chief", Quint mused, grinning, "...its been running since i got here, yesterday...unless its ran out of gas, by now!", he chuckled. Both men now quite curious, they went out front to check on it. The truck was still running, setting there...waiting for its driver to return and ready to go. "Well...I'll be damned!", Martin laughed. Quiunt went over to the truck and peeked in through the open drivers side window at the gas gauge...it read just above empty. He smiled, shaking his head in amazement. He walked around to the front of the truck and lifted the hood. He reached in and yanked the wires...the engine sputtered and died. "Must get damned good mileage", Quint remarked. "I'd say!", Martin agreed. Quint was going to wipe his hands on his jacket out of habit, until he remembered his daughter...he didnt want to hold her and have her get dirty, so he wiped his hands along the legs of his pants. He walked back toward the station. "This place is a mess", Martin commented on the condition of the town from his point of view, "...which direction do you figure we should start in?". Quint squinted his eyes against the sun. He didnt want to go down the street to the right...the east. Thats where part of what was left of the Orca rested. "You figure it out, chief", Quint told him, turning quickly back toward the station, an expression on his face as if he were going to be sick. "I'm going to go check on my woman and get her some breakfast", he said, sounding angry - only it was anger to cover up the hurt that was coming back into him because of his boat. But Elena was sound asleep and the women out in the outer office were sharing the baby. "Heres her daddy!", Ellen exclaimed to none other than Connie Claridge - the old permit begging bat! - holding his little Elizabeth. "Oh, mayor Quint!", she exclaimed, "this is about the most precious baby I have ever seen!!", her voice was high and shrill...everytime her voice hit a high pitch, the baby would jerk as if she had been scared. Quint felt a tug on his jacket. It was Mikey, wriggling his index finger at him. "Daddy", he whipered into Quints ear, "I dont want to be bad by sounding mean, but I dont like that lady holding 'Lizbeth...she scares her!". Grinning, Quint pulled away from him a little and whispered back, "Me, too", then winked at his son. "Here, Misses Claridge...", Quint stepped to her, "...let me hold my daughter...". He was careful to remain polite and to smile, "...I havent had much time with her...if you dont mind...". His politeness worked. He got his daughter away from her without insulting her. "Why, certainly, mayor!", she smiled, handing the baby to him, "My...youre a lucky man". "Thank you", he smiled warily, "I think so, too", as he looked down at Mikey. Mikey winked at him, this time. Quint chuckled. Finally, Baker and Burns got back with Jeff Chisolm. "We found him holed up on the west side of the island", Baker grinned, "...in the boat house where we keep the police boats". "Safest place in town, chief!", Jeff grinned. Quint pulled Martin aside, still holding Elizabeth, and told him that he was going to go in and check on Elena...and not to start the meeting without him. "Quint", Ellen stopped him, "Elenas still asleep...I've been checking on her every few minutes, so that I can take her some breakfast...she needs nourishment, most, as I'm sure you know...but I just came from the back office and shes still 'out'...I'm kind of worried about her". Quint asked her to keep a watch on Elena and the kids...that his first priority was to get eh roads cleared so that he could get her to the hospital...to let him know if anything changes. She said she would, then he thanked her and got on about his business. The men laid out thier plans for cleanup. The first thing to do was to get the roads clear, not only for emergency vehicles, but for the department of public works and the fire department, so they can make sure eveything is safe...downed powerlines could be repaired, broken gas lines and water mains can be tended to, that sort of thing. The men just stood around, drinking coffee and discussing what to do for almost an hour, when Quint excused himself to go to the bathroom. When she was sure he was out of ear-shot, Ellen pulled Martin aside. "Martin...", she whipered, "Quints having a problem that you might not be aware of...can you keep a secret?". "Sure...what?", Martin asked her. "Well...Elena told me that the Orca was destroyed in the storm...and theres pieces of it all over town...", she whispered this secret to him as she watched the hallway for Quints return. "Oh. shit...", Martin sighed, "...No wonder hes been so 'gun-shy' about assissting in the cleanup....damn...okay...thanks, babe", as he hugged her, smooched her on the forehead. "He must be feeling awful..." she said, just as much to herself as to Martin...like more of a verbal thought than anything else. "It looked like he'd been crying, early this morning, when I brought out the scotch...", Martin said, softly, remembering. "You actually broke open that twelve year old scotch??", Ellen asked in disbelief. "Well", he half-smiled, "...how often do we have a hurricane?". He tried to joke, but failed in the attempt. "Elena told me that he had 'lost it'...I guess she meant that he broke down", she said, sadly. "Honey, you have no clue how Quint felt about that boat...", Martin told her, "Hell...even I cant imagine how deep his love for that thing went". There was a long silence between them. "Well...", Martin sighed, "...I'll take care of it...I'll get him to working on the radio in the back room and get him to see who he can contact...this ought to keep his mind off of it all". "See?...I keep telling you that youre sweet, but you never believe me!", Ellen giggled, kissing his cheek. "Aw, quit!", Martin told her, grinning. Ellen saw Quint coming down the hallway from the bathroom, but, instead of coming out into the main office, he stepped in to see Elena. She was still sound asleep, but he noticed a half-eaten plate of food and an empty glass that looked as if it had contained milk. This satisfied him. At least she had eaten something...now he could put his mind to ease with that. He came back out into the main office and immediately looked around for his kids. Barbara Gillespie was setting in a chair along the west wall, feeding his daughter from a bottle while Connie Claridge and Brenda looked on. Mikey was coloring in some coloring books on the floor, not too far from Babs. "Where'd you get that bottle?", Quint asked politely - but suspiciously. (Read this as the actions of a nervous father). "We had officer Burns go over to the store and get some things for the kids", she smiled up at him, "I hope you dont mind...". "What are you feeding her?", Quint enquired nervously. "Its a baby formula...especially for newborns, Mayor", she smiled, understanding the reason behind his inquiries, "...Shes got a great appetite and her mommy is so tired and really does need her rest...er...we do have mom's permission...". "Oh...okay", Quint smiled, "Thank you". He tipped the bill of his cap and gave her one of those smiles that the women seem to enjoy so much. Maybe if he was charming enough, he just might succeed in taking her mind off of asking him about her land rover. Fat chance. "By the way, mayor...", she called to him, after he almost managed an escape, "Wheres my truck?". "Its...uhhh...stalled...its parked over on Beachfront, about three quarters of a mile north of the docks...". He kept smiling that 'charming' smile, but it didnt seem to be having too much an effect on her. "I owe you a scarf", he admitted boyishly, "...I used the one in the truck as a touniquet and...uhhh...I will also pay for the damage to the dashboard...". "What for?", she asked, suprized, "what happened??". He told her the whole story of how his anger got the better of him, then stood there, head down, hands in his pockets, his blue eyes peeking out from under his cap...waiting to be reprimanded. "Dont worry about the scarf, mayor", she grinned, "...And as far as the rest of it, I have insurance...I'm just glad that you didnt get hurt any worse than you did". He did it! He had charmed her enough to keep her from getting angry! Woo-hoo! "Well", he said, sort of feeling guilty, "at least allow me to pay your deductible". "Nonsense", she waved it away, "Forget it". He kissed her hand, "Thank you, fair lady", as he smiled charmingly. "Quint!", Martin said, walking up behind him, "I need you to stop charming the ladies a minute and help me out". "Awwww...do I have to, Brody??", Quint grinned, eyes twinkling. "C'mon", Martin grinned back at him. They went to the radio room. "What happens when you try to talk or recieve?", Quint asked Martin as they stood there, looking at the radio. "Static", Martin replied, "turn it on, hear static, talk, no answer". "The antenna's up?...Coaxial cable hooked up properly?", Quint asked. "Yeah", Martin confirmed, "...even tested the battery...its juiced". Quint gave Martin a smart-assed, smirky grin, "Well...maybe nobody was talking?". "Ha.Ha.", Martin said, dryly, "...Look, we've gotta get through to someone, somewhere...". "Listen, chief...", Quint told him, in his matter-of-fact tone, "...I dont have time to go fartin' around on the radio...I have to get these streets cleared and get my missus and my little girl to the hospital...I'm not going to be able to rest or eat or even think until I'm not worrying about them anymore...". They stood silent a moment before Quint continued. "Besides...I'm the mayor of Amity, right??...I have a whole island of people to help get back to normal...naw...you go get one of your deputies in here to mess with this thing...and the first thing you tell them to do is to try and get a call into FEMA* and the governor of Massachussettes...my first oeder of business is to get those roads cleared. Without that, we cant get the inspectors out, get the utilities restored or get people back to thier homes". Quint turned on his heal and headed toward the door, but Martin grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. "Quint, why dont you let us worry about getting the streets cleaned up?", Martin asked him, "...I mean...you know...about the Orca...". He looked embarrassed. The way one might look after one has been told a secret about someone else that you shouldnt know. "Erm...Ellen told me how upset you are about it...". He tried to be as descreet as he could. "Yes, Brody", Quint confirmed, "I am upset...but I can deal with it...we need all the manpower we can get and, since I'm head honcho around here, that means me, too". Quint was serious, but when he looked into Martins face, he saw Martin getting a bit frustrated about it all. He chuckled and put his big hand down onto Martins shoulder, "...Its okay, chief", Quint smiled, "...I've already seen whats left of my boat. You dont need to 'protect' me...but if it bothers you that much, we can start on only the streets west of here until we get to the public works department, so we can give them thier orders and any help they might need getting started". Martin grinned, "Okay, mayor", he deep-sighed, "...whats my first order of the day?". Quint walked Martin over to the crowd so he could tell everyone, at the same time, what was going to be done. First, Josh and Clyde were to go out on foot and bring back gasoline for his truck, as well as for the other vehicles. They were going to need all the vehicle power they could get. Second, Baker and Burns would go and round up all the ropes and chains that they could find - they would also need a few chainsaws. Other vehicles, some upside down, along with telephone poles, business signs and pieces of buildings were littering those streets, so the tow chains and trucks were needed to remove some of the heavier things and the chiansaws would cut through the rest. "We just need to get over to Coral Reef street, for right now", Quint assured them, "...Just to the public works department. They are the one who have the real equipment to get the roads cleared quickly and efficiently...once the roads are cleared", he continued, "Jeff Chisolm here can inspect the buildings...he can tell us which ones are safe, starting with the hotels. We cant stay in this police station any longer than we have to...building code violations, you know?....we may not get all the roads cleared or all the buildings inspected by sundown, but we're going to work hard at it. We need to get people into some hotels and into comfortable beds". "Now, wait a minute, mayor...", Connie Claridge piped up to protest. Quint looked at Martin, then at Connie, then back at Martin, then nodded. Martin read Quints look like a page in a well known book. "This is your department, chief", Quint growled. "You got it", Martin said as he stepped quickly to Connie and took her gently by the arm and guided her to the back of the room to discuss useing her bed and breakfast inn. Quint had already authorized him to promise her that permit she'd been wanting in exchange for folks to stay free at her Inn during the island cleanup. But she and Quints personalities clashed heavily. It was obvious to everyone that neither of them cared too much for the other. But she sure liked Martin. And he knew he had better charm her into agreement...if he didnt, he knew that Quint would take her place over legally, anyway, without her permission...and this would cause a political mess...she was the type to file lawsuits and raise a big enough stink around the island that would keep both he and Quint up to thier necks in paperwork until they were a hundred years old! That was at 8:30am. Quints plans went smoothly all day and quite alot was accomplished before sundown. They had met the public works department actually at the hal-way mark...the APW was coming toward them! The APW boss had told Quint that he didnt want to start a cleanup without official permission, so they began clearing thier way toward the town hall to find the chief...so he could find the mayor! But Quint just told him that he was doing a fine job and to 'keep up the good work'. *F.E.M.A. is the 'Federal Emergency Management Agency', they are the department of the government that pays out to states or counties after a natural disaster has occured.