They came up over the side out of the dinghy. The kids were wet and very excited and Roger was very shaken. He went over and shook hands with Eddy and Eddy said, “We never should have let them get out like that on this tide.”
Roger shook his head and put his arm around Eddy.
“My fault,” Eddy said. “I was born here. You’re a stranger. It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one that’s responsible.”
“You lived up to your responsibilities all right,” Roger said.
“Hell,” Eddy said. “Nobody could miss him at that range.”
“Could you see him, Dave?” Andrew asked very politely.
“Only his fin till just at the end. Then I could see him before Eddy hit him and he went down and then came out on his back.”
Eddy was rubbing him with a towel and Thomas Hudson could see the goose pimples still over his legs and back and shoulders.
“I never saw anything like when he came out of water and started to go on his back,” young Tom said. “I never saw anything in the world like that.”
“You won’t see a lot of things like that,” his father told him.
“He must have weighed eleven hundred pounds,” Eddy said. “I don’t think they make a bigger hammerhead. Jesus, Roger, did you see that fin on him?”
“I saw it,” Roger said.
“Do you think we can get him?” David asked.
“Hell no,” Eddy said. “He went down rolling over and over to hell knows where. He’s down in eighty fathoms and the whole ocean will eat on him. He’s calling them up now.”
“I wish we could have got him,” David said.
“Take it easy, Davy boy. You got the goose flesh on you still.”
“Were you very scared, Dave?” Andrew asked.
“Yes,” David told him.
“What were you going to do?” Tom asked, very respectfully.
“I was going to throw the fish to him,” David said and as Thomas Hudson watched him the little sharp wave of pimples spread over his shoulders. “Then I was going to hit him in the middle of his face with the grains.”
“Oh hell,” Eddy said and he turned away with the towel. “What do you want to drink, Roger?”
“Have you got any hemlock?” Roger asked him.
“Cut it out, Roger,” Thomas Hudson said. “We were all responsible.”
“Irresponsible.”
“It’s over.”
“All right.”
“I’ll make some gin drinks,” Eddy said. “Tom had a gin drink when it happened.”
“It’s still up there.”
“It won’t be any damn good now,” Eddy said. “I’ll make you a fresh one.”
“You’re pretty good, Davy,” young Tom told him very proudly. “Wait till I tell the boys about this at school.”
“They wouldn’t believe it,” David said. “Don’t tell them if I’m going there.”
“Why?” young Tom asked.
“I don’t know,” David said. Then he started to cry like a little boy. “Oh shit, I couldn’t stand it if they didn’t believe it.”
Thomas Hudson picked him up and held him in his arms with his head against his chest and the other kids turned away and Roger looked away and then Eddy came out with three drinks with his thumb in one of them. Thomas Hudson could tell he’d had another one below.
“What’s the matter with you, Davy?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Good,” Eddy said. “That’s the way I like to hear you talk, you damn old son of a bitch. Get down and quit blubbering and let your old man drink.”
David stood there standing very straight.
“Is it OK to fish that part in low tide?” he asked Eddy.
“Nothing will bother you,” Eddy said. “There’s morays. But nothing big will come in. They can’t make it at low tide.”
“Can we go at low tide, papa?”
“If Eddy says so. Eddy’s the boss man.”
“Hell, Tom,” Eddy said, and he was very happy, his Mercurochromed lips were happy and his bloodshot eyes as happy as eyes could be. “Anybody couldn’t hit that damned no-good hammerhead with one of those things ought to throw the damn thing away before he’d get in trouble with it.”
“You hit him plenty,” Thomas Hudson said. “You hit him wonderfully. I wish I could tell you how you hit him.”