Jaws Page #32

Quint bends forward and pulls his hair aside to show something

near the crown.

QUINT:

That's not so bad. Look at this:

...St. Paddy's Day in Knocko Nolans,

in Boston, where some sunovabitch

winged me upside the head with a

spittoon.

Brody looks politely. Hooper stirs himself.

HOOPER:

Look here.

(extends a forearm)

Steve Kaplan bit me during recess.

Quint is amused. He presents his own formidable forearm.

QUINT:

Wire burn. Trying to stop a backstay

from taking my head off.

HOOPER:

(rolling up a sleeve)

Moray Eel. Bit right through a wet

suit.

Brody is fascinated. Quint and Hooper take a long pull from

the bottle.

QUINT:

Face and head scars come from amateur

amusements in the bar room. This

love line here...

(he bends an ear

forward)

...that's from some crazy Frenchie

come after me with a knife. I caught

him with a good right hand right in

the snot locker and laid him amongst

the sweetpeas.

HOOPER:

Ever see one like this?

He hauls up his pants leg, revealing a wicked white scar.

HOOPER:

Bull shark scraped me while I was

taking samples...

QUINT:

Nothing! A pleasure scar. Look here --

He starts rolling up his own dirty pants leg.

QUINT:

Slammed with a thresher's tail. Look

just like somebody caressed me with

a nutmeg grater...

Brody is drawn into their boasting comparisons. He secretly

checks his own appendix scar, decides not to enter the

contest.

HOOPER:

I'll drink to your leg.

QUINT:

And I'll drink to yours.

They toast each other. Brody looks around, sees the strobe

blink once through the darkened window.

QUINT:

Wait a minute, young fella. Look.

Just look. Don't touch...

He starts lowering his pants to reveal a place on one hip

where the tissue is scarred and irregular.

QUINT:

...Mako. Fell out of the tail rope

and onto the deck. You don't get

bitten by one of those bastards but

twice -- your first and your last.

HOOPER:

(considerably drunker)

I think I can top that, Mister...

Hooper is pulling at his shirt, trying to get it off, but

it's tangling its sleeves, and won't come undone.

HOOPER:

Gimme a hand, here. I got something

to show you --

Brody lends a hand. The shirt slips part way off.

HOOPER:

(indicating his chest)

There. Right there. Mary Ellen Moffit

broke my heart. Let's drink to Mary

Ellen.

The two men raise their mugs in a toast.

QUINT:

And here's to the ladies. And here's

to their sisters; I'd rather one

Miss than a shipload of Misters.

He drinks, Hooper follows.

QUINT:

(shows belly)

Look a' that -- Bayonet Iwo Jima.

BRODY:

(aside)

C'mon. Middle appendix --

QUINT:

(aside)

I almost had 'im.

Brody is looking at a small white patch on Quint's other

forearm.

BRODY:

(pointing)

What's that one, there?

QUINT:

(changing)

Tattoo. Had it taken off.

HOOPER:

Don't tell me -- 'Death Before

Dishonor.' 'Mother.' 'Semper Fi.'

Uhhh... 'Don't Tread on Me.' C'mon --

what?

QUINT:

'U.S.S Indianapolis.' 1944.

BRODY:

What's that, a ship?

HOOPER:

(incredulous)

You were on the Indianapolis? In

'45? Jesus...

Quint remembering.

CLOSE ON QUINT:

QUINT:

Yeah. The U.S.S. Indianapolis.

June 29th, 1945, three and a half

minutes past midnight, two torpedoes

from a Japanese submarine slammed

into our side. Two or three. We was

still under sealed orders after

deliverin' the bomb...the Hiroshima

bomb...we was goin' back across the

Pacific from Tinian to Leyte. Damn

near eleven hundred men went over

the side. The life boats was lashed

down so tight to make the bomb run

we couldn't cut a single one adrift.

Not one. And there was no rafts.

None. That vessel sank in twelve

minutes. Yes, that's all she took.

We didn't see the first shark till

we'd been in the water about an hour.

A thirteen-footer near enough. A

blue. You measure that by judgin'

the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't

know... of course the Captain knew...I

guess some officers knew... was the

bomb mission had been so secret, no

distress signals was sent. What the

men didn't know was that they wouldn't

even list us as overdue for a week.

Well, I didn't know that -- I wasn't

an officer -- just as well perhaps.

So some of us were dead already --

in the water -- just hangin' limp in

our lifejackets. And several already

bleedin'. And the three hundred or

so laying on the bottom of the ocean.

As the light went, the sharks came

crusin'. We formed tight groups --

somewhat like squares in an old battle --

You know what I mean -- so that when

one come close, the man nearest would

yell and shout and pound the water

and sometimes it worked and the fish

turned away, but other times that

shark would seem to look right at a

man -- right into his eyes -- and in

spite of all shoutin' and poundin'

you'd hear that terrible high

screamin' and the ocean would go

red, then churn up as they ripped

him. Then we'd reform our little

squares. By the first dawn the sharks

had taken more than a hundred. Hard

for me to count but more than a

hundred. I don't know how many sharks.

Maybe a thousand. I do know they

averaged six men an hour. All kinds --

blues, makos, tigers. All kinds.

(Pause)

In the middle of the second day,

some of us started to go crazy from

the thirst. One fella cried out he

saw a river, another claimed he saw

a waterfall, some started to drink

the ocean and choked on it, and some

left our little groups -- our little

squares -- and swam off alone lookin'

for islands and the sharks always

took them right away. It was mainly

the young fellas that did that --

the older ones stayed where they

was. That second day -- my life jacket

rubbed me raw and that was more blood

in the water. Oh my. On Thursday

morning I bumped up against a friend

of mine -- Herbie Robinson from

Cleveland -- a bosun's mate -- it

seemed he was asleep but when I

reached over to waken him, he bobbed

in the water and I saw his body upend

because he'd been bitten in half

beneath the waist. Well Chief, so it

went on -- bombers high overhead but

nobody noticin' us. Yes -- suicides,

sharks, and all this goin' crazy and

dyin' of thirst. Noon the fifth day,

Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura swung

around and came in low. Yes. He did

that. Yes, that pilot saw us. And

early evenin', a big fat PBY come

down out of the sky and began the

pickup. That was when I was most

frightened of all -- while I was

waitin' for my turn. Just two and a

half hours short of five days and

five nights when they got to me and

took me up. Eleven hundred of us

went into that ocean -- three hundred

and sixteen got out. Yeah. Nineteen

hundred and forty five. June the

29th.

(pause)

Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

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