Brody walked over to the boy. “What are you doing?”
“Going swimming. Who are you?”
Brody took out his wallet and showed the boy his badge. “Do you want to go swimming?” he said. He saw the boy look past him at his friends.
“Sure. Why not? It’s legal, isn’t it?”
Brody nodded. He didn’t know whether the others were out of earshot, so he lowered his voice and said, “Do you want me to order you not to?”
The boy looked at him, hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No, man. I can use the ten bucks.”
“Don’t stay in too long,” said Brody.
“I won’t.” The boy scampered into the water. He flung himself over a small wave and began to swim.
Brody heard footsteps running behind him. Bob Middleton dashed past him and called out to the boy, “Hey! Come back!” He waved his arms and called again.
The boy stopped swimming and stood up. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I want to get some shots of you going into the water. Okay?”
“Sure, I guess so,” said the boy. He began to wade back toward shore.
Middleton turned to Brody and said, “I’m glad I caught him before he got too far out. At least we’ll get somebody swimming out here today.”
Two men came up beside Brody. One was carrying a 16 mm. camera and a tripod. He wore combat boots, fatigue trousers, a khaki shirt, and a leather vest. The other man was shorter and older and fatter. He wore a rumpled gray suit and carried a rectangular box covered with dials and knobs. Around his neck was a pair of earphones.
“Right there’s okay, Walter,” said Middleton. “Let me know when you’re ready.” He took a notebook from his pocket and began to ask the boy some questions.
The elderly man walked down to Middleton and handed him a microphone. He backed up to the cameraman, feeding wire off a coil in his hand.
“Anytime,” said the cameraman.
“I gotta get a level on the kid,” said the man with the earphones.
“Say something,” Middleton told the boy, and he held the microphone a few inches from the boy’s mouth.
“What do you want me to say?”
“That’s good,” said the man with the earphones.
“Okay,” said Middleton. “We’ll start tight, Walter, then go to a two-shot, okay? Give me speed when you’re ready.”
The cameraman peered into the eyepiece, raised a finger, and pointed it at Middleton. “Speed,” he said.
Middleton looked at the camera and said, “We have been here on the Amity beach since early this morning, and as far as we know, no one has yet dared venture into the water. There has been no sign of the shark, but the threat still lingers. I’m standing here with Jim Prescott, a young man who has just decided to take a swim. Tell me, Jim, do you have any worries about what might be swimming out there with you?”
“No,” said the boy. “I don’t think there’s anything out there.”
“So you’re not scared.”
“No.”
“Are you a good swimmer?”
“Pretty good.”
Middleton held out his hand. “Well, good luck, Jim. Thanks for talking to us.”
The boy shook Middleton’s hand. “Yeah,” he said.
“What do you want me to do now?”
“Cut!” said Middleton. “We’ll take it from the top, Walter. Just a sec.” He turned to the boy. “Don’t ask that, Jim, okay? After I thank you, just turn around and head for the water.”
“Okay,” said the boy. He was shivering, and he rubbed his arms.
“Hey, Bob,” said the cameraman. “The kid ought to dry off. He can’t look wet if he isn’t supposed to have been in the water yet.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Middleton. “Can you dry off, Jim?”
“Sure.” The boy jogged up to his friends and dried himself with a towel.
A voice beside Brody said, “What’s goin’ on?” It was the man from Queens.
“Television,” said Brody. “They want to film somebody swimming.”
“Oh yeah? I should of brought my suit.”
The interview was repeated, and after Middleton had thanked the boy, the boy ran into the water and began to swim.
Middleton walked back to the cameraman and said, “Keep it going, Walter. Irv, you can kill the sound. We’ll probably use this for B-roll.”
“How much do you want of this?” said the cameraman, tracking the boy as he swam.
“A hundred feet or so,” said Middleton. “But let’s stay here till he comes out. Be ready, just in case.”
Brody had become so accustomed to the far-off, barely audible hum of the
Middleton heard Brody speak. “Give me sound, Irv,” he said. “Get this, Walter.” He walked to Brody and said, “Something going on, Chief?”
“I don’t know,” said Brody. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.” He said into the walkie-talkie, “Hooper?”
“Yes,” said Hooper’s voice, “but I still don’t know what it is. It was that shadow again. I can’t see it now. Maybe my eyes are getting tired.”
“You get that, Irv?” said Middleton. The sound man shook his head no.
“There’s a kid swimming out there,” said Brody.
“Where?” said Hooper.
Middleton shoved the microphone at Brody’s face, sliding it between his mouth and the mouthpiece of the walkie-talkie. Brody brushed it aside, but Middleton quickly jammed it back to within an inch of Brody’s mouth.
“Thirty, maybe forty yards out. I think I better tell him to come in.” Brody tucked the walkie-talkie into the towel at his waist, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called, “Hey out there! Come on in!”
“Jesus!” said the sound man. “You damn near blew my ears out.”
The boy did not hear the call. He was swimming straight away from the beach.
The boy who had offered the ten dollars heard Brody’s call, and he walked down to the water’s edge. “What’s the trouble now?” he said.
“Nothing,” said Brody. “I just think he’d better come in.”
“Who are you?”
Middleton stood between Brody and the boy, flipping the microphone back and forth between the two.
“I’m the police chief,” Brody said. “Now get your ass out of here!” He turned to Middleton. “And you keep that fucking microphone out of my face, will you?”
“Don’t worry, Irv,” said Middleton. “We can edit that out.”
Brody said into the walkie-talkie, “Hooper, he doesn’t hear me. You want to toot in here and tell him to come ashore?”
“Sure,” said Hooper. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
The fish had sounded now, and was meandering a few feet above the sandy bottom, eighty feet below the
