July 6: Farewell And Adieu, Bruce

It was the best Fourth of July Amity (which, as you know, means “friendship”) had ever had, until Estuary Victim was gobbled. The bright side was that Mayor Vaughn’s kids were on that beach, too, so he did something he was good at: he signed a voucher to pay Quint to kill the shark.

I wonder who ended up getting the $10,000, Iranian caviar, apricot brandy, and color TV, for ’twas Brody killed the beast.

It was the next morning, July 5, when Quint, Brody, and Hooper headed out from Menemsha. They (apparently) spent a sleepless night listening to whales and talking about Herbie the bos’un’s mate, Maryellen Moffatt, and a big Chinese fella, when the shark come cruisin’.

July 6 dawned with a series of barrel fiascos and a shark cage mishap, interrupted by a vain attempt to lure the fish back into shallow water and drown him (though if he didn’t drown eating Alex Kintner, how shallow would the water have to get: Ellen Brody’s cup shallow?).

Finally, when Quint was eaten and Hooper swam away, it was up to Brody to face his fear of the water and bust some shots off. He was so disoriented that he thought July 6, 1974 was a Wednesday, when it was actually a Sunday.

But he killed the shark; that’s what counts.

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