Fangtooth

by Shaun Jeffrey

  The reflection of the full moon rippled on the surface of the sea like mercury. Lights flickered on the horizon from a passing ship.

  Jack could see his dad’s reflection in the glass. “So did you get to see that woman at the hospital?”

  Bruce looked up from his newspaper. He licked his lips, then nodded.

  “Well?”

  “Yes, she’s okay.”

  “So what happened to her?”

  “She had an accident, that’s all.”

  Something in the way his dad spoke made Jack think he wasn’t telling him the truth, or at least not the whole story. When he turned around to look at him, his dad had buried his nose back in the newspaper.

  “So what are we going to do about living here, you know, with what happened earlier?”

  Bruce looked up again. “They’ll get over it. They’re just looking for a scapegoat, and unfortunately, as newcomers, we’re it.”

  “So what are you saying, that we just accept it? That madwoman grabbed me and marched me into the bar for Christ’s sake.”

  “A lot of these people have lost their livelihoods. They’re upset. Give them time. Eventually they’ll accept us.”

  Jack wasn’t convinced. “I’m going out,” he said.

  “It’s dark, and after what happened today, I think you’d better stay in.”

  “No way.”

  “Jack, I’m not asking you. This isn’t open for debate. You’re staying in.”

  Rather than argue, Jack stood up, said, “It’s not fair,” and stormed out of the room, banging the door behind him for good effect. He made sure his dad heard him thunder up the stairs and into his bedroom. Once inside, he fashioned a pile of clothes into a vaguely human shape on the bed and threw the covers over it. Then he went across to the window, opened it, and slipped outside onto the porch roof, shutting the window behind him. He’d known the porch would come in handy, which was why he’d chosen the bedroom at the front. From there it was a simple exercise to drop the eight feet to the ground, hanging by his arms onto the edge of the tiles to lessen the height.

  A quick glance back at the house, then he ran down onto the road and started walking towards the village.

  Lights blazed in many of the houses, but drawn curtains diminished their radiance. If it hadn’t been for the full moon, he would have had difficulty navigating a path. In the distance, lights illuminated the harbour, and Jack saw Zander’s boat bobbing gently against the quay. He wondered whether Zander would notice any of his cannabis was missing. Not that it mattered if he did. He wouldn’t know who had taken it.

  In need of a quiet place to roll his joint, Jack skipped over the harbour wall and settled down on the ground as he prepared his cigarette before lighting it.

  The first hit tickled the back of his throat, and he held the smoke in his lungs for as long as possible before exhaling. Through the resultant pale cloud, he viewed the sea, chuckling to himself when he remembered how scared he had been when someone pushed him in earlier. The whole situation now seemed ridiculous. Of course a shark wasn’t going to get him. There probably wasn’t even one out there, just the result of someone’s overactive imagination. But now that he thought about it, and far from making people stay away, stories of a man-eating shark would probably help the local economy. There were probably lots of people who would pay to see the killer from the deep.

  Jack took another hit. He wondered whether someone local had made the whole thing up to make a little money. The thought made him giggle and he snorted and coughed out a cloud of smoke. Not as backward as they appeared, the villagers were the real sharks.

  When the joint was smoked down to the end, Jack tossed it into the sea. He thought he heard it sizzle as it hit the water, but he couldn’t be sure.

  He stood up. His mouth was dry, and he swallowed in an attempt to produce saliva. The rippling water far out to sea was almost hypnotic. Jack stood transfixed for a while, listening to the gentle susurrations of the waves as they slapped against the harbour wall. Time became irrelevant.

  The door to the Sheet and Anchor opened and a rush of chatter bubbled out. Jack snapped out of his daze, ducked down and peered over the wall to watch a man stagger from the bar. He giggled at the sight. The bar door swung slowly shut, and silence descended.

  At a higher elevation beyond the bar, he thought he could see Jen’s house. A bedroom window was alight. He wondered whether it was Jen’s bedroom. The thought accelerated his already fast beating heart. What was she doing with that twat, Rocky? Jesus, he would love to get it on with her – at least then living here would be bearable.

  Spurred by the thought, he lit a cigarette and started to walk towards her house. The buildings along the side street muffled any sound from the sea; it felt almost surreal, as though everything was holding its breath.

  Shadows bathed the streets. The hairs on the nape of his neck prickled as though someone were watching him. Jack spun around, but as far as he could see, there was no one there. He proceeded with caution. It would be just like Rocky to be lying in wait somewhere. Wet clothes he could endure, but a broken skull wasn’t so easy.

  A rapid staccato clicking sound filled the silence. Jack flinched and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. He stared around, wide-eyed to trace the source of the noise, but he couldn’t see anything.

  Not wanting to hang around in the dark to see what it was, he stubbed the cigarette out and ran up the slight incline to where brightly lit windows and a couple of streetlights cast a welcoming net of light. The brief exertion left Jack breathing hard. He stood and stared back down towards the harbour. For a moment, he thought he saw something large scurry across the path he had just taken, but he couldn’t be sure. Somewhere in the dark, a cat hissed and then screeched. Unable to see anything else, Jack turned and hurried on.

  When he reached the house, he stood outside, unsure what to do next. He rocked from side to side and wrung his hands together. She had a boyfriend, so what did he expect to achieve? As he was about to turn and walk back home, a shadow crossed his path. The movement startled him and he looked up, only to see Jen in the bedroom window. Jack could see she was dressed for bed in a blue nightgown. She combed her hair, staring absently at the window as she did so. It was such a simple, everyday act, but Jack stood entranced. She was gorgeous.

  “Jen,” he said as loud as he dared.

  When she didn’t respond, he shouted a little louder and waved his arms. She probably wouldn’t be able to see him, as he knew at night windows in brightly lit rooms acted more like dark mirrors, but he was eager to attract her attention. He looked around the ground, spotted a patch of gravel at the side of the path that led to the front door, and scooped a few stones up. He threw them towards the window, and the gravel skittered off the wall and into the flowerbed. Dismayed at his aim, he grabbed a few more of the small stones and threw them again. This time his aim was better and the stones tinkled against the glass.

  Startled, Jen approached the window and cupped her hands over her eyes to peer out. Jack waved up and Jen frowned. After a moment, she opened the window and leaned out, smiling.

  ”Hey,” she said.

  Jack nodded. “Just thought I’d see what you were up to.”

  “Well, let me see.” She tapped a finger against her lips. “I’m not wearing any makeup, and it’s late, oh and look, I’m dressed for bed.”

  “Very funny. I meant, you know…?”

  “Actually, no, I don’t know. But I’m glad you called by. Gran’s locked herself away and Mum and Dad were moaning about some stupid program on the telly. Anyone would think they thought it was real life. You know, I sometimes wonder who the kid is in this family.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. So you’re not a fan of TV then?”

  “Nah, not really. I prefer listening to music.”

  “Me too. So what do you like listening to?”

  “Oh you know, Blink 182, Rasmus, a bit of Korn, System of a Down, that kind of stuff.”
>
  “Oh, I had you down for Will Young and The Backstreet Boys.”

  Jen laughed. “Do I look that analy retarded?”

  “Well now that you mention it…”

  “Hey, anymore of that and I’ll come down and give you a slap.”

  “Promises, promises,” Jack said beneath his breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing, just thinkin’ out loud.”

  “Now there’s a surprise. You can think. Einstein must be turning in his grave.”

  “I don’t have to stand here and take this abuse, you know.”

  “Really, you mean there’s somewhere else you can go and get it from instead?” She chuckled.

  “Very funny. And here I was being neighbourly.”

  “Sorry. So what are you doing out?”

  “I was bored. You know how it is.”

  “So you thought you’d pay little old me a visit. That’s sweet.”

  Not as sweet as you. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

  “Well, much as I’d love to stand here with the window open in the cold and talk, I had better go and get my beauty sleep.”

  “Nah, you don’t need it,” Jack said, blushing. Had he really said that? Jesus, she must think he was a dork, but he wanted to keep her talking. She was the best thing about being here.

  Jen smiled. “Thanks, but I really do need some sleep. Mum’s got me helping her with the shopping tomorrow.”

  Jack racked his brain for something to say. “Did you know Zander sells drugs?”

  Jen leaned further out the window. “What sort of drugs?”

  “Cannabis. I found some on his boat, and I saw him selling a packet to some bloke.”

  “Cannabis. Really?”

  Jack was glad she didn’t ask what he was doing on Zander’s boat, because then he would have to explain about being pushed in the sea. Granted he could tell her Rocky had pushed him, but he had no proof, and besides which, he thought it would make him look like a bozo. “Yeah. Seems he’s got a nice little operation going on.” Of course he didn’t know much about it at all, but if it kept Jen talking, he could make Zander into the biggest drug baron in the world for all he cared.

  “That toe rag.”

  “What, you don’t like drugs, is that it?”

  “I’ve never tried any. Then I’ve never been offered any either.”

  “I could, you know, let you try some of mine one day, you know, if you’d like.”

  Jen smiled. “Most men woo a girl with chocolates and flowers.”

  “I’m not, you know … not when you’ve got a boyfriend.”

  Jen’s smile faded. “It’s okay. Anyway, I’ve really got to go. It’s been nice talking to you. See you later.”

  Before Jack could say anything, Jen closed the window and drew the curtains across. He didn’t know what it was, but something in her voice and expression told him that all was not well with her and Rocky. In other words, they were on rocky ground. He giggled at his little joke, then turned and started for home with a lot more spring in his step than before.

  Rocky pressed himself into the shadows of the doorway as Jack walked by. He had stood listening to the bastard chatting up his girlfriend, and the blood in his veins was close to boiling point. He opened and closed the blade of the small penknife in his hand, liking the feel of the sharp steel as it brushed through his fingers.

  He could have jumped out and attacked the little shit then and there, but he didn’t, not where Jen might see. No, he would wait and bide his time.

  Jack was going to get what was coming to him when he least expected it. Rocky was going to make sure of that.

  Chapter 18

  The sky looked overcast, but the sea was calm as Zander piloted his vessel out of the harbour. McKenzie had paid him promptly for yesterday’s drug delivery, but then he had telephoned in the middle of the night to tell Zander there was another pickup. Zander had been half asleep and slightly hung over at the time after spending some of his pay in the Sheet and Anchor, but even he knew things were getting out of hand. But he was in too deep to pull out now, besides which, he didn’t think McKenzie would just let him walk away. Zander wasn’t weak, but he wasn’t stupid. Like it or not, he was in for the duration.

  He made a quick call to Brad and met him at the boat before setting sail. He didn’t like involving the engineer, but the boat was too big to pilot by himself, and the engines were temperamental at the best of times, and only Brad seemed able to soothe the savage beast.

  The rhythmic slap of the boat as it ploughed through the waves was a relaxing sound. A smudge of light illuminated the clouds where the sun peeked over the horizon.

  Zander felt as though saltwater flowed through his veins. Almost mystical at times, the sea had an allure unlike any other.

  In the distance, Zander spotted the red buoy that marked the lobster pot and he eased back on the throttle. Just then, something banged against the hull. Unable to see anything from the wheelhouse, Zander cut the engine, stepped out onto the deck, and peered over the side. He couldn’t spot anything in the murky water, but the sea was good at hiding its secrets. Assuming it was flotsam and jetsam, he proceeded to the starboard side to haul in the pot

  He couldn’t remember the last time they had brought home a decent haul. He had been through rough patches before, but never one that lasted this long–if it was a shark scaring the fish away, then he needed to track the bastard down, but so far after a thorough search, he hadn’t spotted anything that lead him to believe one had taken up residence on their doorstep.

  But if things didn’t improve soon, he was going to have no choice but to lay his men off. Word had gotten back to him that people were already starting to talk, asking how he could make a living and pay his workers when they never caught anything. He could live off the drug money himself, and he could pay his men with it, but he couldn’t risk further suspicion.

  He grabbed the pole and hooked the line to the pot, instantly aware something was wrong as the rope came up too easily. A deep frown marred his brow as he eventually pulled the last of the rope aboard to find what remained of the lobster pot. Someone had smashed it to pieces. It took him a couple of seconds to remember the drugs. How could he explain to McKenzie that someone had stolen the drugs?

  Back at the harbour, Brad jumped down onto the quay to moor the boat up. When the boat was secure, Zander cut the engine, stepped out on deck, waved and watched Brad saunter home.

  “Hey Zander.”

  Zander turned and looked at the figure leaning against the harbour wall.

  “Rocky. You can tell your mum she’s out of luck. I haven’t caught anything.” That kid always made him a little nervous. There was something about him that wasn’t right. If he hadn’t been fucking the kid’s mum, he wouldn’t speak to him. Jean wasn’t too hot in the looks department, but she certainly made up for it in bed, which is why he usually kept her sweet with the odd fish. Since her husband had left her over eight years ago, Jean had turned to alcohol and a need to feel loved. Not that Zander loved her. As far as he was concerned, it was purely physical.

  “I’m not here for fish,” Rocky said.

  “Okay, so what are you here for?” He turned and started walking away before Rocky could answer. He had too many things on his mind to listen to whatever the kid wanted, and he only asked out of a grudging politeness.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be missing some drugs, would you?”

  Zander stopped dead in his tracks. He clenched his jaw and spun around, grabbing Rocky by the scruff of his neck. “Something you want to tell me?”

  Rocky’s eyes went wide and he stood up straight and gestured towards the boat. “That new kid in the village. He was bragging yesterday how he’d stolen some.”

  New kid? Zander released his hold and scratched his chin, feeling the coarse brush of stubble.

  Rocky rubbed his throat. “You know, moved into the old Johnson place with his old man.”

  Alarm bells wen
t off in Zander’s head. He remembered showing the kid’s dad up the other day. He didn’t know how, but they were probably in on it together. The bastards would end up getting him killed. “Come here kid, you and me have got a job to do.”

  Chapter 19

  “So what are you up to today?” Bruce asked.

  Jack shrugged. “You know.” He continued to wolf down his breakfast of Cornflakes.

  “Actually I don’t, that’s why I’m asking.”

  “What’s with the Spanish Inquisition?” He wondered if his old man was being so curious because he knew that he had snuck out last night, but then instantly rejected the idea. If his dad knew about last night, he wouldn’t be so calm.

  “Can’t I take an interest in what my son’s up to?”

  “You tell me what there is to do in this dump, and I’ll let you know.”

  Bruce rolled his eyes. “Well if you’re short of something to do, you can help me decorate.”

  “I’m bored, not desperate.”

  “Well it wouldn’t hurt you to help anyway.”

  “Seriously, dad, I’ll find something to keep me occupied.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Jack and Bruce stared at each other for a moment. Jack didn’t know if there was a hidden subtext to his dad’s comment or whether he was just trying to be funny. After a moment, Jack looked away and continued eating.

  Despite what he had just said, Jack knew exactly where he was going today. To see Jen. He couldn’t get her out of his head. After yesterday, he knew there was at least a glimmer of a chance that she and Rocky wouldn’t be together for much longer. If she was going to need a shoulder to cry on, his was ready, willing, and able.

  When he had finished eating, Jack stood and headed towards the door. “I’m going out,” he said as he picked up his baseball cap.

  “Keep out of trouble. And Jack, don’t go anywhere near the sea. Okay?”