| Exerpt: |
| "No, Dee, no!" he howled. She seemed to hear him, turned her head, almost fell. He shut up. The fin was back in their wake. It was a hundred yards, perhaps a little more, astern of her. And coming up, surely coming up. His wife teetered, made the move, and turned. By God, she had done it! She was skiing backward, and if she could just get turned around again . . . The fin was gaining. Her body went suddenly rigid. She had seen it. Somehow she whipped around without falling. Now, her face was a mask of horror. She was yelling, and wobbling ... Steady, Dee, steady ... Not far to the beach … As if she heard him, she seemed to relax. Solidly, carefully, she skied out from the wake into smooth water. The fin disappeared. He chanced a look at the beach. Half a mile. A white speck on the weatherbeaten porch, a person, someone to care for her when she sliced to the beach if she collapsed, from shock ... And he'd be OK, without her drag, no fish in the sea could catch Overtime … But when he looked back he knew that they had lost. The fin was closing fast. In seconds it was towering above her.” |
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