Megalodon Lives

by Flash Rex

  Grimshaw stared at me with his fists clenched. "I don't have to..."

  Burns was smiling. "All right, both of you. We're a team here remember?"

  I shook my head. "There's no reason for him to be here. You're here because you're the boss. I'm here because I thought you put me in charge. What is he doing here?

  He has contributed nothing so far and I don't see what he could possibly contribute unless we run out of chum!"

  Burns was not smiling now. He probably knew I was right. "That's enough!"

  "Or if the boat sinks, the rest of us could sit on your fat ass and row home!"

  Burns turned to Grimshaw. "Go inside." Uh-oh. Grimshaw did as he was told.

  "Look, I'm sorry Mr. Burns. He just kept interrupting and I'm not even sure I know what I'm talking about."

  "I know you're under a lot of pressure. I also know that you can handle it. But you can't lose control. Sure, Grimshaw's a jerk but he's been around longer than you and I think he feels bad that I took you on at all. You embarrassed him the first day we met and since then I've given you more and more authority. He always got along well with Zaller and he basically saw me replace Zaller with you. He's scared that I'll replace him with you too. All I ask is that you tolerate his presence because I need him. He's the best at what he does and I don't want to lose him. Is that too much to ask?"

  "No, of course not." Now I felt bad for making fun of a pathetic wretch like Grimshaw.

  "Now why don't you finish telling me how this magical box helps sharks simulate swimming."

  "There's not much left to tell. You see these pipes running along the bottom of the box?"

  "Yeah what do they do? I don't see where they're hooked up to anything."

  "Those pipes are just hooked up to the front and back ends of the box. The box is filled with water. The shark goes in. We hit the button and the water is propelled from the front of the box to the back of the box. If the shark doesn't start swimming, it will be knocked against the back. The water reenters the pipes at the back and is recycled. This dial controls the force of the water. We need to make the current strong enough for the shark to swim as normally as possible. If the current is too weak, the shark will hit the front of the box and stop swimming. If the current is too strong, the shark may not be able to keep up or may get tired and give up. We have to have someone monitor the shark's condition at all times and make adjustments to the controls as necessary. If we can actually find a Great White and catch one alive, I sure don't want to have it drown on the back of a truck on the Cross Bronx Expressway."

  "I know what you mean. We'll be careful and we'll do it right."

  "Well even if we do everything right, the odds are against us getting a Great White from the Atlantic Ocean to the Aquarium alive. The odds are overwhelming. I have no idea if this box will work with a Great White at all. Even if it does work, I doubt we could keep a Great White alive for very long in this thing. Great Whites are just so delicate. I can just picture some tractor-trailer jackknifing on the George Washington Bridge with a load of pigs. The Bridge would be closed for hours while transit cops run around chasing the pigs. In the meantime, we have a Great White Shark drowning in the back of a truck."

  "You worry too much. Nothing's going to go wrong."

  We finally got underway as the sky was just brightening in the East. It was going to be another hot one. Luckily, the boat had all the creature comforts we could ask for. It was designed to allow a crew of ten a two-week stay at sea. Even though we wouldn't venture more than a few miles offshore, it was comforting to know we could last awhile if we had to. I had no idea how long our search would take.

  For now, Captain Pearson was going to take us out near Montauk. I didn't know where else to start. Pearson had no suggestions because he said he had never seen a Great White in these waters in his twenty years out here. I didn't feel confident when he made this revelation, but I felt better when he mentioned the dozen or so Great Whites he'd seen hanging upside down on piers posing with happy fishermen. Burns wanted a detailed description of all those dead sharks so he stayed with Pearson on the bridge. Grimshaw and I found ourselves alone back by the box. I still felt bad for him. "Hey, Charlie. I'm sorry about what I said before." I extended my hand and was rewarded with Grimshaw's dead fish in my palm.

  "I'm sorry too. How'd you learn so much about this stuff?"

  "I was always interested in sharks. I read everything I could find and watched every show I could on them. I don't really know all that much about them. I don't think anybody does."

  "Zaller did. Burns shouldn't have fired him."

  Sure he should have, I thought. "No, he shouldn't have,” I said. "But there's nothing we can do about it now, is there?"

  "No, I guess not." Grimshaw shrugged. "What are those buckets for?" Grimshaw was pointing at a row of five-gallon buckets lined up next to the railing. The buckets all were closed and the nearest one had a shovelscooper resting on top.

  "That would be chum."

  Grimshaw started walking over to the buckets. "Chum?"

  "I wouldn't open it if I were you. Chum is chopped fish, blood and oil. It doesn't smell good." I wasn't feeling well and I don't think seeing Grimshaw's breakfast on the deck would make me feel better. Grimshaw stopped and turned back to me.

  "What do you do with it, throw it overboard?"

  "You scoop some out and throw it over the side. It lures the sharks to the boat."

  "So it's really bait. Why don't they just call it bait?"

  I shook my head. "It's not bait. All chum does is give sharks a scent or a taste. It just whets their appetite for food. Or more precisely it entices them to come to the boat because they think there's food available. Once they get to the boat we throw some bait in. The chum gets them interested but the bait keeps them interested."

  "Sounds neat. I'd like to toss some chum out and see what happens."

  "I'm sure we'll need some volunteers, so I'm glad to hear you're interested. I'll be sure to pass the word on to the Captain." And the crew who won't be stuck with that miserable job.

  "I'm going to head in and watch some TV. I usually don't get a chance to watch the morning news shows." Grimshaw went inside. I was exhausted so I took a nap.

  A nap was a big mistake on my part. I slept way too long. The sun was out now and it was already getting hot. I walked around the deck to try to determine how far we'd gone while I was counting sheep. It looked like we had just passed Jones Beach on our way out to Montauk. My family had only gone to Jones Beach once when I was a kid. My father preferred Robert Moses State Park to Jones Beach because Jones Beach was closer to the city and always more crowded. It's probably packed today, I thought, with all of those screaming city kids. My father would've gone insane on Jones Beach today. I thought I saw a streak or a slick on the water heading towards the beach but as I stared it disappeared. I heard laughter coming from back by the crane so I continued heading that way.

  Three crewmen, who seemed much younger than me, were laughing. "Hey guys, what's going on? I'm Joseph Bolding." I shook hands with each of them. They were still laughing. I smiled pretending I knew what they were laughing at. They looked at me and laughed harder. "What're you guys laughing at?"

  The oldest looking of the three pointed around the crane towards the chum buckets. "Your buddy over there lost a bet to us."

  I leaned and peeked over to see where he was pointing. I saw Grimshaw with his back to us on one knee next to the buckets of chum. Even from twenty feet away I could see the sweat on Grimshaw's light blue shirt. Leaning upright against one of the buckets was a bucket lid. Oh oh. "What was the bet?"

  "We bet he couldn't take a deep breath from one of the chum buckets without puking?"

  I tried to stifle a smile. "What happened?"

  They all started laughing hysterically again. "He puked!"

  I laughed right along with them but I didn't want Grimshaw to know. Grimshaw didn't turn around though so I assumed he wasn't finished honki
ng. "What did he lose?"

  "Huh?"

  "He lost the bet. What did he lose?"

  "He's gotta hurl the chum!" We were all still laughing. My cheeks hurt from laughing so hard, but then a horrible thought crossed my mind. I stopped laughing and looked at Grimshaw.

  "Is he chumming now?"

  "Yeah. He's doing pretty good too."

  I turned and stomped over to Grimshaw. "What are you doing? You idiot! Give me that damn thing!" I grabbed the scoop out of Grimshaw's hand. His sweaty face looked up in surprise. A chubby finger pushed his glasses back where they belonged after sliding down.

  "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm throwing the chum out!"

  "Do you remember me telling you to? Don't do anything until I tell you to! Do you hear me?"

  "What's the problem? You said chum attracts sharks so I threw the chum in the water. I don't want to spend the rest of my life on this boat looking for a shark so I decided we might as well start. I didn't think you were going to start since you were asleep! I should be asking you what you've been doing while I've been working!"

  "You moron!" I pointed to the slick in the direction of Jones Beach. "Do you see that line in the water? That's the chum you've been throwing out. Do you see where it leads?"

  "It leads toward land. So what?"

  "So what? That's Jones Beach, you jackass! There are going to be thousands of kids on that beach today and you may have attracted every shark in the area right to them! That's what!"

  "I didn't know! How was I supposed to know?" Grimshaw exaggerated a shrug.

  "You weren't supposed to know and that's why I'm in charge! From now on you do what I say! Do you understand?"

  "Yeah."

  "Good. Now you'd better pray nothing happens on that beach today."

  I walked off and left Grimshaw where he stood. The sea breeze was cool but not cool enough to ward off the heat of the sun. I decided to go inside and hang out in the lounge. Burns was alone in the lounge. He was watching CNN on the large screen TV

  "This is some boat you have Mr. Burns. You even have cable."

  "Come in, Bolding. Sit down." He said. I sat. "I wouldn't be out here without a satellite TV. Everyone complains about how destructive TV is. I love it. There's so much to learn in life and TV is the only way to experience most of it."

  "You're probably right."

  "Of course I'm right. Take Antarctica, for example."

  "O.K." I shrugged.

  "How many people have ever been to Antarctica. Or how many people will ever go there?"

  "Not many."

  "You're damn right. Not many. When my father was a kid ... well before TV, nobody really knew what it looked like even. Now all you have to do is watch a show on Antarctica."

  "But watching a show is not really experiencing it."

  "No it's not but it’s better than wallowing in ignorance. Isn't it?"

  "Sure it is and I'm not disagreeing with you. It's no secret that I learned a lot about sharks on TV. Now I'm the expert on this expedition."

  "TV is a great learning tool for everyone. No one wants to go to Antarctica. Except for lunatics like Zaller. Now no one has to. We've all seen what's there. Just ice and penguins."

  "I never looked at it that way."

  We talked for about an hour and a half, while the TV droned on in the background. It was just polite conversation. I thought we were both tired of talking about the business at hand. We even started talking about the heat. I've always been a weather records junkie. My friends and family always laughed at my most useless of weather trivia. I long ago stopped asking people which place had a higher average temperature Such and Such, North Carolina or So and So, Alaska. Never again would I have the pleasure of revealing the surprising answer. But I still liked to go out on record-breaking days and say to myself, "This is the blankest day ever." I'm a weather weenie, I admit it. I had to know if New York hit a record high today.

  "Mr. Burns, mind if I turn on the local news at noon?" I asked nonchalantly. I didn't want my employer to know what a sicko I was.

  "Sure go ahead." He flipped me the remote.

  I turn to channel nine and of course they're doing a live report on the City's school kids at the beach. I winced inside hoping Burns didn't realize what it was. How could he since I changed the channel so fast?

  "Hey, what was that? Turn that back."

  That's just great, I thought. You're stuck on a boat with the boss for who knows how long and I get the man in a bad mood so I can appease my weather fetish. Am I completely insane?

  I turned the channel back to the news report. They were just wrapping up a live shot from Fire Island after they showed some taped footage. A single kid was visible in the water in the background above the reporter's left shoulder. "Doesn't look like too many are in the water today, Sandy?" The anchor made his statement into a question.

  "No there isn't Carlton. In fact we've only seen that one young boy in the water out here all day. It's not surprising since the water temperature is only in the sixties. Carl?"

  "Sandy, why is that boy swimming then if it's too cold for everyone else?"

  "Well Carl, I asked him on his way in a few minutes ago. And he showed us his brand new waterproof watch that his parents got him got for his tenth birthday on Saturday. Basically he wants to try out his new watch." Over Sandy's shoulder a dark blur surged into the boy in the water. A lifeguard, who was standing on the beach right in front of the only swimmer, started forward into the water. The camera view zoomed past Sandy and focused on the boy. The kid was trying to get out of the water but something was pushing him to his right and thrashing the water to his left. Two black triangles were sticking out of the water just left of the boy.

  "Thanks Sandy. I sure hope he enjoys his watch. Boy it's a hot one in the city to..." Carl's voice trailed off. "Sandy what's going on? Can you see what's going on?" Sandy put her hand to her ear and turned to the water as someone on the beach screamed in the background.

  "Oh my God Carl! It's a shark!" The head of the shark cleared the water. It looked huge next to the small, skinny boy. The familiar conical shape of a shark gave way to the horrifying extended jaws as they clamped down on the boy's left shoulder. The boy's entire left arm was in the shark's mouth as it drove him under water.

  People could be seen running towards the water as the camera focused on the lifeguard, who was wading in waist high water looking for the boy. The lifeguard hesitated just a moment before diving. Less than a second later, the lifeguard emerged carrying the boy's limp body back to the beach. Three men rushed in to aid the lifeguard. The rest of the crowd blocked the camera's view of the boy.

  Burns and I sat watching in stunned silence before I stood and looked out the window. I could see the vague outline of Fire Island punctuated by the Washington Monument-like obelisk that was the centerpiece of the state park. I thought about looking for binoculars but I realized I wouldn't be able to see over the waves anyway. Besides Sandy and the cameraman had recovered from their initial shock and were now showing the boy wrapped in a blanket surrounded by onlookers.

  "Sandy, can you describe what we're seeing?"

  "Carl it appears the little boy who was just attacked by a shark is alive. He appears to be in shock. He was wrapped in a blanket. We can hear sirens in the distance." A teenage girl stepped in front of the camera and waved. Arms appeared from off screen and pulled her away. "Excuse me!" Sandy didn't want her fluff piece turned tragedy to be ruined. "I must say that the boy appears to be missing his left arm from the shoulder and he's lost a lot of blood."

  "What's the boys name? Sandy? What's the boys name?"

  "The boy's first name is Tommy we believe. At least that's what the adults who are with him are calling him."

  "Is the boy part of the city sponsored trip?"

  "Yes he is, Carl. If you remember I spoke to him just before he went into the water. He's the one with the new watch."

  "Oh, yes, of course." Carl was not sharp tod
ay.

  Mr. Burns slumped back from the edge of his seat as if to consider the events. My mind was racing. I felt bad for the kid but this was an opportunity that we couldn't pass up. We couldn't have dreamed for a break like this. Weeks of fruitless searching could be avoided if we could capitalize on this situation. I nearly thanked God but I hope God wouldn't take a kid's arm so Burns could make some money. "Mr. Burns, you are one lucky son of a gun. We just found our drawing card." I started out the door but Burns stopped me.

  "Wait a minute! Could you tell what attacked that kid?"

  "It looked like a great white to me and that's what we're looking for. Mr. Burns, I gotta go tell the captain where to go. We don't have much time."

  "It didn't look like a great white to me. It was black, Brian, completely black."

  "It was probably some optical illusion. The TV probably distorted the color. It was a great white." Now I wasn't sure though. The jaws and head looked like a great white. No other shark looked like that. But Burns was right, it was black. The skin was as black as a killer whale. I know that was no killer whale. "I don't know. Maybe it wasn't a great white. Whatever it was, if we could catch it, we'll make a ton of money. But we gotta move now!"

  "What do you want me to do?" Burns was excited and he wanted a piece of the action. I didn't know Burns and Grimshaw were coming until this morning so I didn't have any roles in mind for them. Now though, Burns could help.

  "Mr. Burns I need you to watch the news and find out what you can about what happened. Where did the shark go or where do the experts think it will go? Don't just watch this channel. Check all the channels. Also see if you can find out what kind of shark it was if it wasn't a great white. You got your shark books with you?"

  "I sure do."

  "Check through those too. Hey why don't you tape the stories you see on TV?

  Try to at least get a copy of the attack itself. I'd like to see it again, in slow motion or frame by frame, if possible. I'll get things organized out here." I ran towards the bridge. If only I hadn't wasted all that time taking a nap, I thought.