A Jaws Retelling

Just Go Away

A day later, Ruth was released from the hospital. She was surprised when it was neither Brody nor Hooper who came to pick her up, but Quint.

"Oh," she said, as in the waiting room she was approached by the fisherman, who looked severely out of place in the pristine white hospital. "Hello, Quint."

"Fireball," he greeted, and indicated with a nod that they were to exit directly.

"Why do you call me that?" Ruth asked him with a tilt of her head. Quint didn't answer, he only chuckled.

The two stepped out into the bright sunlight and Ruth squinted, her head still hurting from the overwhelming sterility of the hospital room she had been previously confined to. The warm sunlight, however, was a welcome sensation, seeing as the last time Ruth had felt warmth was just before she was plunged into the estuary the day before. Ruth quickly pushed the memory from her mind and tried to focus on the sun again, as well as keeping up with the long-legged Quint.

"You had those boys fightin' over who got to come and get you, ya know," Quint said. "I finally had to tell them I'd come get ya myself just to shut 'em up. Buncha children, those boys. S'pose it's too much to hope they up and killed each other while I've been gone."

"While you've been gone from where?" Ruth asked, as the two approached a thoroughly beat-up blue station wagon.

"I left those two down at the dock by my Orca. They're supposed to be runnin' through my fishin' checklist, but I can't imagine they got very far." To Ruth's surprise, Quint opened the passenger's side door for her before going around to the driver's side and getting behind the wheel. Acts of politeness from Quint came as a pleasant surprise to Ruth every time they occurred, and she couldn't help but wonder why he even bothered to act that way towards her. It was obvious he was not normally disposed to do so.

Ruth could finally relax on the warm leather seat of Quint's car, behind the blue-tinted windshield and with the warm breeze gently blowing through the slightly-open windows as Quint pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

"When do we set sail?" Ruth asked, trying and failing to make light of the situation. She felt seasick at the very prospect and it showed.

"Tonight," Quint said, eyes flickering to her only for a moment. While he felt for the girl beside him, Quint knew Ruth was strong enough to handle what was coming, and she had to be—the shark problem wasn't going to wait for her to recover, and Quint wasn't setting sail without her. Especially because he knew Brody and Hooper wouldn't either.

"Okay," was all Ruth said, and all anyone said for the rest of the ride.

Minutes later they pulled into a beach parking lot, and to Ruth's surprise, Quint kept driving. He pulled up to a dirt path with a rope across it, before idling the car and getting out and taking the rope down. He drove through, put the rope back, and ambled down the bumpy road, through some trees before abruptly breaking through the brush and coming up to the shore.

Had it not been for the distraction of the two men quite animatedly and obviously arguing atop the dock, Ruth would have shuddered at the sight of the ocean. But Brody and Hooper were arguing very pointedly, waving their arms and chucking things occasionally into the nearby sand.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Quint said, quickly exiting the car. His passenger momentarily forgotten, Quint threw open the door and left the passenger's side unopened. "Chief! Mr. Hooper! Kindly, what do you think you're doing?"

"He won't listen, Quint, he's over here trying to—" before Hooper could get too far into his complaint, Ruth exited the car.

"Careful, boys," she said as Hooper poised to toss something else. "I don't want to have to take somebody back to that hospital."