by Flash Rex
Burns seemed to agree with me but Grimshaw was shaking his head. "So the only con is the shark will probably be dead before we open. Correct?" Grimshaw said. I didn't bother answering Grimshaw. I just stared at him.
Burns put his hand over his mouth and looked up at the sky. "We'll open on Friday," he said.
Before we headed to our respective homes, Grimshaw, Burns and I went down to the observation area to look at the shark. It was dark but we could make out the silhouette of the shark. It was swimming around the tank slowly. It seemed to just join the two sand tigers in a slow, unending race around the tank. The sand tigers were only about ten feet apart from each other, and they kept the newest arrival on the other side of the tank from them at all times. I don't know if it was a conscious effort on their parts or what.
"Should we worry about the sand tigers ganging up on our star?" Burns asked me.
"I don't think so. Most large sharks stick pretty much to themselves, except for hammerheads. There have been some reports of great whites acting in concert but nothing has really been verified. The new guy should be all right," I said.
"Do you think he'll live?" Grimshaw asked.
"I thought he'd be dead by now," I said. "There's nothing more I can do for him. We need a real marine biologist now." I turned to Burns. "Catching him was relatively easy compared to keeping him alive. We were lucky to find and catch him, but it'll take a lot more than luck to keep him alive."
"You've done a great job so far," Burns said.
"But I have no idea how to care for it. I don't know if one type of food is better than another. I don't know what to do if it gets sick. We need an expert. This animal is too rare and valuable to put in the hands of an amateur like me."
"All right, I'll make some calls. What are you going to do?" Burns asked.
"Well, my knowledge of sharks has been pretty much exhausted at this point. I don't think I can be of much more help. If anything happened to the shark, I'd just be a spectator like everyone else. If I'm not here and something happens I want to know about it, though. I may be able to help but I wouldn't count on it."
"If you're not going to be here, where else would you be?" Asked Grimshaw.
"I'll be at the law library in my father's office downtown. As I see it, the biggest problem we could face now are legal challenges. People are going to be tempted to sue us." I pointed at Grimshaw. "I think you and I should do some serious research tomorrow on virtually any issue somebody might raise."
"Why go to your father's office? We can just use my library," Grimshaw said.
"I'd rather not. If people start connecting us to the shark, the media might show up at your office. I don't think we should make any comments tomorrow. Let's wait until Wednesday. We'll hold a press conference at noon on Wednesday here at the Aquarium. Mr. Burns, when the media shows up tomorrow, don't speak to them yourself. Just release a statement announcing a press conference for noon on Wednesday."
"How does one actually go about releasing a statement?" Asked Grimshaw.
"I don't know! Just type a sentence on a sheet of paper and make copies available to reporters that show up," I said. "It shouldn't be that difficult." I looked at Burns, and then turned back to Grimshaw. "Oh, before I forget, would you find a top notch litigation firm that Mr. Burns can contact."
"I thought you guys were going to do research tomorrow? What do I need a litigation firm for?" Burns asked.
"For insurance. Grimshaw and I will do research tomorrow and Wednesday if we have to. On Thursday we'll hold another press conference and talk about legal issues. Not the facts just the law with our own spin on it. I think we can scare away a lot of lawsuits with a preemptive strike. We need a litigation firm to defend any lawsuits that get through."
"Why don't we just have the litigation firm do everything?" Grimshaw asked.
"Because Mr. Burns has had bad experiences with outside attorneys and because I don't trust anyone more than I trust myself. Besides we need to act quickly and an outside firm would take at least a day or two to get on track and up to date with all the information. I would do everything in-house if we could be neither you nor I have enough experience in a courtroom to be effective on this matter."
"Sounds reasonable," said Burns.
"Okay then. I'm heading home to get some shuteye. Mr. Burns could you get a security guard, a reliable one, to keep an eye on the shark tonight. Have him call me if anything unusual happens."
"I'll get Tommy when I go upstairs to my office. He's been around the longest and I've never caught him sleeping when I show up unexpectedly. But how will he know what is unusual with the shark?" Burns asked.
"If he's in doubt have him call me. I can be here in ten minutes. I don't know what I'll do when I get here but..."
"Just call a veterinarian," said Grimshaw.
"Good night," I said. "We'll meet here at seven tomorrow morning. After the ride today I'm probably going to take the train into the city. We'll catch the 8:09. Pleasant dreams."
When I got home, I gave Katie a call. The answering machine picked up. She must have already gone to bed. "Hey, we're back. We caught the big one but don't mention it to anybody. It's a secret. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. I'll be in the city. I'm going to see if my father wants to go to Mickey Mantle's for lunch. I'd like you to come with us if we decide to..." The stupid machine hung up on me.
I wanted to call my parents but they weren't going to be up so late. I'll see him at the train station tomorrow. That way I can sit and talk with him and not with Grimshaw. I already missed the local news so I turned on Sportscenter. I watched highlights of the Pittsburgh Penguins winning the Stanley Cup. I nodded off in the recliner. Must reach bed... before... too... weak
May 26, 1992
The phone rang and I didn't even know what it was. I knew I drooled on my pillow, though. The phone rang again and I answered it. Normally I wouldn't answer the phone at three o'clock in the morning, but something told me this call was important. "Mr. Bolding?" Said the voice.
"Who wants to know?" I have been on both ends of prank phone calls enough times to be cautious.
"This is Tommy Thigpen. From the Aquarium. Mr. Burns said I should call you. Did I wake you?"
"No, of course not." Like I was ashamed to be sleeping at three o'clock in the morning. "What is it Tommy?"
"The shark is, I don't know, throwing up, or something."
"What do you mean? Is it still alive?"
"Yeah, it's still alive but it's sick, or something. I checked it every fifteen minutes like Mr. Burns told me to. It's not my fault!"
"I know Tommy. Just calm down and tell me what you saw."
"I turned on the lights and the shark was throwing up. There was blood and everything."
"What do you mean 'throwing up?'"
"The shark was puking."
"I see." I had no idea what he was talking about. I never heard of a shark vomiting before. "Tommy, what did you see come out of the shark? What did the shark throw up?"
"Blood mostly. There were also some little white things, like rocks. They sank. There was also floating things in the blood but the shark and the other fish ate most of it."
"Okay, Tommy. You did great. Now I'm going to be over there in a couple of minutes. Could you keep the lights on and watch the shark until I get there?"
"Sure, Mr. Bolding. I'll watch the shark."
"Oh, Tommy. Before you watch the shark could you call Mr. Burns and tell him to meet me at the Aquarium?"
"Mr. Burns is upstairs in his office. He said he was going to sleep there tonight."
"Okay. Could you call him, Tommy and tell him to watch the shark?"
"Sure, Mr. Bolding. I'll tell him."
"Thanks a lot Tommy. You did a great job. Keep up the good work. Goodbye."
I hung up the phone and got dressed. On the five-minute drive, I tried to understand what Tommy had told me. The shark was vomiting. But what was it vomiting? Blood. I'll take Tommy's word for it on that. T
hings that the other fish ate. Undigested flesh. Little white things that sank. Bone fragments. I should have asked him if he saw a human arm go flying out. It was probably best I didn't because I think that would have scared the crap out of poor Tommy. I'd be able to see for myself soon enough.
I pulled into the huge empty parking lot. The near empty parking lot, I should say. My advice to put a fence and gate around the lot to keep unwanted after hours visitors out went unheeded. I had to maneuver around empty beer cans and bottles. We'd have to address the fence situation if we were going to be the center of worldwide attention for the rest of the summer. Assuming the shark was going to live.
I parked the car in the closest non-handicap space. Even at this hour I won't park in a handicap space for fear of getting a stiff parking ticket. As I fumbled for the key to the gate, I thought about what we should do if it became clear the shark was not going to make it. We should probably take it out of the big tank. The shark was valuable to us even if it was dead. The shark would be a total loss if it died in the main tank and was eaten by the sand tigers and the other fish, though. Without even the body we'd have nothing. I suppose we could send the excrement of the other sharks to the Smithsonian but I don't that would cause much of a stir, at least among the public.
Burns and Tommy were staring at the shark when I got to the tank. "What's going on?" I said. The shark was still swimming so I knew it wasn't dead. Unfortunately it was swimming about as slow as I'd seen it all day. It was dying.
"It doesn't look like he's doing so good," said Tommy.
"What do you think is wrong?" Burns asked.
"Probably the stress of the trip. It was rougher than I wanted. He was in that box for an awful long time."
"Why don't we feed it? Maybe it's just hungry," Burns said.
"I don't think so. Besides I don't want to introduce any food into the tank unless we're sure our shark can take care of himself. We don't want the other sharks to go crazy with the food in the water and kill the new one while he's in a dazed state."
"How can you tell it's a he?" Asked Tommy.
"What was that, Tommy?"
"How do you know if it's a he or a she?"
"Oh, well you see those things sticking out on the bottom of the shark?"
"Yes."
"Those are called claspers and they are how you... uh..."
"So it's like a man's..."
"More or less. Mr. Burns, I think we should consider removing the shark if it gets any worse."
"Why?" Asked Mr. Burns.
"Because the shark's body is valuable to us dead or alive. If it dies in there and the other sharks eat it then we have nothing."
"Do you think it will come to that?"
"I'm afraid so. The shark is dying and we shouldn't wait until the last moment to..." I looked past Burns and saw the shark speeding up. "Look!"
I pointed at the speeding shark. It shot across the tank. It was just a blur. It was heading right for the two sand tigers. The tigers turned away from the black blur but the side of the tank blocked their escape. The lead tiger turned left and sped away. The second tiger had also tried to turn left to escape but the first tiger cut it off. It bumped its snout against the side of the tank and then tried to escape to its right. It was too late. The black shark was already on top of it. In an instant the jaws of the black shark opened and clamped down on the tiger's tail just in front of it's caudal fin. Before I could utter a word, I saw the tiger's caudal fin fall freely in a helicopter motion to the bottom of the tank. The rest of the tiger spastically past our window with a trail of blood emerging from it's severed tail.
The black shark turned in a short circle as it consumed the chunk of the tiger in its mouth. By the time it faced the tiger again, it was ready for another bite. The tiger was now thrashing against the bottom of the tank. It could no longer swim, though it tried. Blood poured out of the hole where it' tail used to be. Smaller fish darted in and out of the stream of blood to capture a fleshy chunk. The surviving tiger seemed to pace back and forth on the opposite side of the tank. Finally, it too saw its chance to feed and plowed through the water towards the now dead tiger. The black shark cut off the living tiger before it could get a bite. The tiger retreated to the far side again. The black shark opened its mouth and chomped down on the exposed underbelly of the dead shark. It jerked its head wildly for a moment until it swam free with a mouthful. As the black shark turned away, the other fish scrambled in to get their share.
Burns, Tommy and I just stood there. We stared at the scene for an hour without saying a word. The dead tiger was no longer recognizable. The black shark ate most of it. It ate most of a shark equal in size to itself in less than an hour. "Incredible," Burns said.
"I guess the new shark will be okay after all," I said. "Tommy, what we just saw has to be a secret. You can't tell anybody. You understand?"
Tommy looked at Mr. Burns, who nodded, and said, "I won't tell anybody."
"Good."
"Why don't you go back upstairs Tommy? I have to talk to Mr. Bolding for a minute. You did a good job Tommy. Thanks." Mr. Burns shook Tommy's hand and led him to the doorway.
After Tommy left I asked Burns, "Can Tommy be trusted to keep quiet?"
"I think so," Burns said.
"We need to know. What we just saw here has never been seen before. I'll tell you right now this is no great white. This is a monster. People are going to act crazy to see the monster. If Tommy jumps the gun, we could have a serious security problem here. Right now we couldn't handle a huge crowd or even one nut. Until we're ready, we can't let the publicity get out of hand. I'm not confident in Tommy's ability to keep quiet, let alone control a crowd. Or God forbid, apprehend some lunatic who just has to see the shark before anyone else."
"Calm down. Tommy's a good kid. He won't say anything."
"He'd better not. I know he means well but we need top-rate security here now Mr. Burns. We have serious security issues here now. It's not just high school kids drinking in the parking lot anymore."
"I'll look into it," Burns said.
"I'm not kidding. This shark is going to cause a lot of security problems. One is just ordinary crowd control. We're going to have days busier than an entire month last year. We could draw more people in a day here with this shark than we did all last summer."
"I hope so," Burns said.
"This isn't funny. We're also looking at special problems like over ambitious newshounds trying to sneak in and get the big scoop. There's going to be lunatics looking for publicity. Maybe even terrorists. Plus we don't have any idea what the revenge factor could be. The dead kid has a family and it won't be long before his death and this shark are connected. We could have an assassination attempt on the shark. It could be a family member or even some racial thing. We have no idea. I don't even know if an animal can be assassinated."
"I'll look into it," Burns said again, but this time I thought he meant it. "How about some breakfast? We can head over to the diner. They're probably the only ones open at this hour. My treat!"
I was hungry but I didn't know how I would react to food after watching an animal be torn apart an eaten five feet away from me for an hour. "Okay, but if you put ketchup on your eggs I'm gonna puke all over the table." We started to walk out of the viewing area but I turned to look at the shark one more time. "Mr. Burns, does the shark look bigger to you?"
"Fatter, I'd say. He just had a big breakfast, that's all."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
I made it through breakfast without vomiting. Burns and I talked about the remainder of the week for a couple of hours. He must have drunk about gallon of coffee. To this day I've never so much as sipped a cup of coffee. In law school, I was always annoyed by these other students who would stagger into class hunched over a cup of coffee. They couldn't function without it. Give it a rest!
Burns wasn't like that. He was always ready to go. He didn't need coffee to stimulate him. Of course, on the drive back to the Aqu
arium, Burns drove like he was starring in a Dukes of Hazzard reunion. When we screeched back into the Aquarium parking lot, Grimshaw was just getting out of his car. When he saw Burns and I pull up, he frowned. He was probably thinking Burns' ass wasn't big enough for the both of us to kiss.
"Gentlemen," Grimshaw said as we got out of the car.
"Good morning," I said.
"You missed a good breakfast," Burns said.
"Too bad. Did I miss anything else?"
"Hmmm. No I don't believe you did. You ready for a rousing day of legal research?" I asked.
"About that, why don't we drive in? I'm not a big fan of public transportation."
"The public's not all that fond of you taking public transportation either. But it's our safest bet today. I see you aren't wearing your Kevlar vest."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"If you're going to drive down the West Side Highway during a riot, you really should have some bullet-proof protection on."
"Fine we'll take the train. Let's go."
We drove to the train station and parked in the commuter parking. It was a five-minute walk to the platform. We walked in silence. It was about five to eight. The 8:09 was never early, so we had a fourteen-minute wait. I looked for my father on the platform but I didn't see any sign of him. "I'm gonna see if my father's in the Post Office. I'll be right back," I said to Grimshaw. The Post Office was right next to the train platform. The Post Office opened at eight and my father would often stop in before the 8:09 came. God help the commuter who wasn't the first in line when the Post Office opened though.
There was a line every morning as soon as the doors opened. Ninety-nine percent of these early risers were commuters trying to get their postal chores done before the 8:09. Did the Post Office ever open early? No. Did the Post Office ever open late? What do you think? Did the Post Office ever have more than one clerk at the window for this early rush? Ha! There was only one regular early morning customer that didn't get on the 8:09. That one customer would be the only Guatemalan barber in town. The guy was so busy cutting hair all day long that he couldn't take a break later in the day to come to the Post Office. He had to be there with the commuters trying to beat the 8:09. Was our Central American friend just buying a book of stamps? No. Was our Central American friend inquiring about the release date for the famous American Barbers limited edition stamp collector’s kit? No. Was our Central American friend getting thousands of dollars of money orders, the Post Office equivalent of trying to get a loan through an ATM? Bingo.