Jaws 2

"This is the second book I've ever read," declares her Dad proudly.

The sound of his voice jangles Ruby’s nerves and adrenaline-laced blood pumps from her heart.  Quickly, her eyes dart towards him: he is slathered in suntan lotion and his pale blue eyes glint beneath his glistening, sunburnt brow.

She is surprised at his statement and doesn’t know the correct response.  So she waits.  Her eyes are drawn momentarily to Dad’s girlfriend, Dawn, who is sleeping gently beside him, stretched out on a striped beach towel.  The rise and fall of her bikini clad breasts, pale and soft and slick with coconut oil, make her think of the dead jellyfish she found yesterday near the water’s edge.

Dad waves the tatty paperback novel in her direction and Ruby reads “Jaws 2” on the front cover.  The pretty blonde water-skier looks like she is about to become lunch for a gargantuan Great White, whose blackhole mouth gapes to reveal a jumble of jagged teeth.

"Was the other book you read Jaws 1?" Ruby asks sensibly, enjoying the novelty of conversation.

He laughs. "No, but I've seen the film."

"Me too - at the library," she responds.

"Der-dum, der-dum, der-dum..." Dad mimics the Jaws theme tune and Ruby giggles, although the remembrance of it also places a stone of fear in the pit of her stomach.

She thinks of her brother, Nigel, who has gone off to paddle in the sea and glances towards the glittering expanse of turquoise blue, dotted with splashing children and beautiful brown-skinned teenagers.  They don’t look much like the older kids from home, with their golden hair and sparkling teeth, instead of frizzled perms and acne.

The water looks inviting, but she won’t join Nigel for a swim, convinced that if she does, she will be will be eaten by a shark. She imagines it grabbing her leg and dragging her under: the crystal clear water frothing with blood.

Conversation over, Dad has returned his attention to his reading matter and Ruby amuses herself by dribbling streams of silky sand through her fingers and onto her bronzed forearm. She enjoys the way it clings to the fine, downy hairs growing there. Normally pale and wan; two weeks of Florida sunshine have burnished her skin to the colour of caramel.  Away from the oppressive drabness and relentlessly grey weather of home, Ruby finds herself enjoying the look and sensation of her body for the first time in her short life.  Apart, that is, from the tender ache of her budding breast, hidden beneath a sparkly Palm Beach t-shirt, that makes her feel self-conscious among the near naked bodies around her.

Ruby decides that she needs some respite from the glare of the sun and so casts a final anxious glance towards her brother splashing in the shallows and then walks alone back to the motel: in search of shade and the novelty of American game shows. Jangling the room key on its huge perspex fob, she takes a detour to the ice dispenser and selects a can of 'soda' from the vending machine.  A shadow falls across her and looking up, she sees a familiar face watching, a smile playing on his lips.  Ruby scans the space for an escape and she notices his dark eyes flicker with amusement, enjoying her fear.  She tenses her body in anticipation, gripping the icy cold metal in her hand, but in the time it takes to blink, he is gone.

She runs back to the motel room, fumbling with the key in the lock and then slamming the door quickly shut behind her, she leans with her back for a moment against the wood of the door, enjoying the solid barrier between her and greasy haired man.

She’d seen him again this morning, talking to Nigel by the pool.  Her brother was enjoying the attention of the man, smiling and talking innocently, but to Ruby it looked like a predator sizing up its prey and she had felt the bile rise up in her throat and a tingle of fear trickle down her spine.

“Dad wants you,” she’d lied and the man had looked at her, angry, as she’d pulled Nigel away firmly by the arm.  Nigel tried to struggle free, looking behind, longingly, at the man with his pencil thin moustache and his promise of candy.

Inside the motel room, Ruby stands in front of the mirror and struggles out of her sticky t-shirt. Despite the intense heat, her Dad insisted that she keep it on all day. She examines the left-hand side of her chest - violet and blue and edged with sulfur yellow.  With her finger she traces the clear and distinct circle of teeth marks and winces.

She wraps herself in the comforting, towelling hug, of the motel's luxurious white bath sheet and crack open the can of Sprite. Settling herself in front of the enormous TV, and allows the brash hysteria of The Price is Right to drive away her fears and the throb of the wound in her breast.

……………….

The water closes over her and she struggles in panic, emitting a fizz of bubbles in the blue around her.  She looks upwards and seeing a light, warm and pale, she feels suddenly calm and blissful, wanting to be part of the light.  She feels herself let go…

Ruby wakes up from the dream with the TV still blaring and realises with shame that she is lying in a wet bed.  She hurriedly removes the sheet and rolls it into a scruffy ball, pulling the bedspread back to disguise its absence.  Rushing into the bathroom, she hides the soiled sheet beneath a pile of wet towels in the bathtub, awaiting collection by the cleaner.

Pulling on clean shorts, Ruby recalls that it’s the second time that week she’s wet the bed:  she grew out of that years ago at home.  Salt tears prick behind her eyelids, but she hears the clank of the maid’s trolley in the corridor outside and decides to head back to the beach before she’s discovered.

Turning the corner of the building and heading past the swimming pool, Ruby hears the whir of the sprinklers and heads closer, to feel their mist on her skin.  She is absorbed in the pleasing clip clop of her sandals on the concrete: so that she doesn’t notice the greasy haired man until he steps into her path.  There is a glint of victory in his dead eyes, as Ruby releases her breath in a sharp gasp.  His slippery red lips part to reveal a shark like grin, as he makes a snatch for the soft flesh of her upper arm and encircles it in his vice-like grip.