Source: Jaws Extract
The land seemed almost as dark as the water, for there was no moon. All that separated sea from shore
was a long, straight stretch of beach — so white that it shone. From a house behind the grass-splotched
dunes, lights cast yellow glimmers on the sand. The front door to the house opened, and a man and a
woman stepped out onto the wooden porch. They stood for a moment staring at the sea, embraced
quickly, and scampered down the few steps onto the sand. The man was drunk, and he stumbled on the
bottom step. The woman laughed and took his hand, and together they ran to the beach.
“First a swim,” said the woman, “to clear your head.”
“You go ahead. I’ll wait for you here.”
The woman rose and walked to where the gentle surf washed over her ankles. The water was colder than
the night air, for it was only mid-June. The woman called back, “You’re sure you don’t want to come?” But
there was no answer from the sleeping man. She backed up a few steps, then ran at the water. At first her
strides were long and graceful, but then a small wave crashed into her knees. She faltered, regained her
footing, and flung herself over the next waist-high wave. The water was only up to her hips, so she stood,
pushed the hair out of her eyes, and continued walking until the water covered her shoulders. There she
began to swim — with the jerky, head-above-water stroke of the untutored.
A hundred yards offshore, the fish sensed a change in the sea’s rhythm. It did not see the woman, nor yet
did it smell her. Running within the length of its body were a series of thin canals, filled with mucus and
dotted with nerve endings, and these nerves detected vibrations and signalled the brain. The fish turned
towards shore.
The woman continued to swim away from the beach, stopping now and then to check her position by the
lights shining from the house. The tide was slack, so she had not moved up or down the beach. But she was
tiring, so she rested for a moment, treading water, and then started for shore.
The vibrations were stronger now, and the fish recognized prey. The sweeps of its tail quickened, thrusting
the giant body forward with a speed that agitated the tiny phosphorescent animals in the water and
caused them to glow, casting a mantle of sparks over the fish.
The fish closed on the woman and hurtled past, a dozen feet to the side and six feet below the surface. The
woman felt only a wave of pressure that seemed to lift her up in the water and ease her down again. She
stopped swimming and held her breath. Feeling nothing further, she resumed her lurching stroke.
The fish smelled her now, and the vibrations — erratic and sharp — signalled distress. The fish began to
circle close to the surface. Its dorsal fin broke water, and its tail, thrashing back and forth, cut the glassy
surface with a hiss. A series of tremors shook its body.
For the first time, the woman felt fear, though she did not know why. Adrenaline shot through her trunk
and her limbs, generating a tingling heat and urging her to swim faster. She guessed that she was fifty
yards from shore. She could see the line of white foam where the waves broke on the beach. She saw the
lights in the house, and for a comforting moment she thought she saw someone pass by one of the
windows.
The fish was about forty feet from the woman, off to the side, when it turned suddenly to the left, dropped
entirely below the surface, and, with two quick thrusts of its tail, was upon her.