"No, Mike. I almost wish they were. Porn won't kill you."

"You want porn? Okay, I can take care of that." His voice was strangled. "Magazine rack at Starbuck's, okay? Jackie won't even open them, they're so raunchy." Jackie was Mike's first love. "I saved the money for the scuba course; I can buy the porn instead."

"Take it easy, Mike."

Mike rolled over, facing him. "Then see, Dad, while Andy and Chip and Larry, you know, and everybody else in the crummy town is diving, I can, you know, lie up here with Gallery and—"

"Cool it!" Brody barked. "Look, if you want to swim, use the town pool. Your baby brother's got more sense than you!" They'd both been near victims of a shark attack a year before, in the time of the first Trouble. "And he was on the beach. You were in the ocean."

"In the ocean," squeaked Mike. "For the last time. I can swim like an eel! I live on an island! And I'm not allowed to—"

"I let you sail."

"And that took an Act of Congress! I'm tired of the dumb sailboat—"

"You're the best sailor in town!"

"But I want to be the best scuba diver instead, okay? It's my life!"

"You aren't living it right. You've got to eat. You look awful." He crossed the room to feel his forehead and found it hot.

"You think I'm sick?" Mike's voice quavered. "Maybe I am sick. Sick of your hang-up. Sick of Spitz."

"Who's Spitz?"

"Mark Spitz." Mike was crying now. "Great Olympic ... swimmer. 'Hey, Spitz, come on down to the beach, you won't get wet....''Gimme a swimming lesson, Spitz. ...' 'Spitz, hey, move your beach towel, man, tide's coming in."" He drew in a great, shuddering sigh. "I'm frigging Spitz."

"Mike—" Brody began helplessly.

"I wish we lived in Omaha," blurted Mike, "so nobody could dive!"

"But we live here."

"Dad?"

Brody brushed his son's hair from his eyes. "Yeah?"

"The shark is dead."

"Yes," Brody admitted, "the shark is dead." He finally talked Mike into going down to let Ellen make him a sandwich. Then he sat, flipping the magazine pages, until he realized that he was not really looking at them.

He knew suddenly that he was wrong. He was trying to plant cowardice in his son, who was trying to overcome a fear.

So he had signed the form and bought Mike a wet suit. "Ellen, we mustn't hang our own panic on those kids."

***

Here on the beach, Ellen felt Brody very close. To keep Thea from her playmates in the safest waters in the world was to taint her with useless dread. Ellen had looked into the hurt blue eyes.

"Okay, Thea," she said, lifting her up. "You can go. “

The child nuzzled her neck. "Thank you, Grandma."

"Thank Grandaddy," she murmured. "He told me to let you go on the banana boat, before you were even born."