Deep Mink

Inspired by the Alfred Hitchcock Hour.

Picture of sport fishermen. Photographer unknown.

Saltwater and guts gushed onto the pier, covering Danny’s boots in chunks of partially digested fish and pink liquid.

“I can’t believe you caught this killer!” Jon said from the port side of his boat, The Wanderlust. “I see a hero’s welcome in your future, Danny-boy!”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Danny, slapping the side of the great white. “Norma doesn’t know the difference between a shark and a marlin.” They both laughed.

“What is that sticking out there, Danny?”

Danny moved his face to within an inch of what looked like fur hanging from the slit in the shark’s belly. He took hold of it, water seeping out between his knuckles and down the anchor on his forearm, and tugged softly. It didn’t budge. He looked up at his friend Jon and shrugged, then bent his knees and pulled harder until, with a pop and spurt, a deceased animal fell to the pier like a sopping beach towel.

“Mother Mary!” yelled Jon, leaning over the railing. “What is that?”

“An otter, I think…or maybe part of a seal?” He nudged the fur with his boot, then picked it up. It was lighter than he expected. Then it hit Danny: this was a dead animal, but it had been dead long before it made it into the belly of this great white shark.

“It’s a mink!” shouted Danny.

“A mink? That’s new to me! I’ve heard of people finding glasses—even wallets! But mink? Those aren’t cheap! Ah, but tsk tsk—it’s a shame it’s ruined.”

Danny lifted the wet coat and nodded his head in approval. “Well, Norma always wanted mink. Maybe she’ll be able to do something with it.” He wrung out the coat, beaming with pride.

Norma sniffed the sponge on the kitchen sink, then threw it into the garbage. Everything in their fourth-floor apartment smelled of the sea, and while sponges were technically from the sea, she refused to have her sponges smell like fish. She looked out the kitchen window at her husband Danny who was crossing the street, heading to their apartment building carrying a large parcel wrapped in brown paper. She frowned. More fish, she thought. What she wouldn’t give for a hearty vegetable salad or a piece of beef, but she knew what Danny would say, “Why buy food when the sea offers it up to us for free?” She looked around the apartment at the worthless trinkets and bric-a-brac, all smelling of brine. If that man brought home even one more shell—one more watch that didn’t tick—one more antique bottle for her to dust, she would leave him. As God as her witness.

Norma sat on the living room couch, glowering at the front door. She heard the jingle as Danny searched for the right key, and when he finally opened the door, his face red and weathered from the sun and the sea winds, she was primed to berate him, to tell him where to stick his sand dollars and sea glass.

“I come bearing gifts!”

“Is it from the sea?”

“It is! It’s from the belly of a great white shark!”

“I don’t want it.”

“Ah, but you don’t even know what it is yet!”

“I don’t need to know what it is. Unless it’s a diamond or a ruby—”

“Norma, this is better than a diamond or ruby. It’s something that you’ve been wanting for a long, long time.” Danny put the parcel on the coffee table; Norma covered her nose and mouth.

“It stinks like Neptune’s crown! Get it off my coffee table!” Norma snatched the parcel and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. “You know nothing about what I want. Everything you love comes from the bottom of the ocean!”

“Norma, would you just open the package? You’re going to love this. I promise.” Danny pulled out his bait knife and cut the twine. “Please, just look.”

Norma sighed. Her friend Marcy, who refused to play gin at their apartment due to the overpowering smell of fish, married a book publisher. What a wonderful thing it must be to smell paper, glue, and ink all day, she thought. She looked at her husband’s boots and wanted to retch. With her forefinger and thumb, she pinched the corner of the brown paper as if it were a dirty diaper, then pulled the package open. She recoiled—what was this disgusting thing on her table? He’d gone too far this time.

Danny picked up the mink and hung it from his arm like a waiter serving wine at a fine restaurant. “For my queen,” he said, bowing his head.

“What is it?”

“Why, it’s mink, of course!”

“You don’t expect me to wear that hideous thing, do you?”

“Do me a favor, just try it on. Please,” said Danny. He held the coat open.

Norma frowned. Did her husband really think she’d like a ruined mink? She shook her head but stepped forward and slid one arm through a sleeve, then the other.

“It’s wet.”

“It’ll dry, Norma. It’ll dry.”

Norma stood in front of the mirror looking at her mink coat while Danny poured them a celebratory drink.

“Well?” Danny said, his chest puffed up with pride.

“Well…maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe if I brushed it out a little…”

Danny grabbed his wife by the waist and kissed her neck. “I knew you’d love it.”

The following day, Sherman’s market on 23rd was like a beehive, with women buzzing from kiosk to kiosk, pinching bags and squeezing fruits and vegetables for ripeness, pollinating the store with detergent-dusted dishpan hands. Marcy Hart was one such bee, but she viewed herself as the queen.

“Boy! Yes, you—come here,” Marcy said to a young man wearing an apron. “I want your very best apples—no, do not tell me everything is out on the floor. I want the very best. So, march right back there and fetch me a bag. Go. Now.”

The young man opened his mouth to protest, but Marcy gave him the look her friend Norma once called “commanding” and “a bit frightening.”

While she waited, housewives nodded at her with respect as they walked past; she’d earned her place in this city and the courtesy of the other women. Most of these housewives wore headscarves and house coats, but Marcy wore diamond earrings and heels.

“Marcy!” said a woman wearing glasses that magnified her eyes, making them look too big for her face. “How nice it is to see you!”

“Oh, hello, Rose,” replied Marcy.

“How is Edgar?”

“He’s fine. Just fine,” said Marcy, picking a piece of lint from Rose’s blouse. “We’re thinking about buying a little vacation home, somewhere upstate. You know how it goes—but it’s gauche to talk about money!” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear where a diamond sparkled from her lobe. “Besides, Edgar knows that I’m a simple woman. I don’t need anything too fancy.”

Rose’s eyes widened, and she unconsciously touched her own bare ear.

“Well, yes, naturally…Gary wants to update the kitchen…” said Rose, blushing.

“What’s that?”

Before Rose could find her voice, the store had gone quiet. The two women looked to the door, and there was Norma, wearing sunglasses, a headscarf, and a ratty mink coat.

“Lord above…” said Marcy.

“Looks like Norma got a new coat,” said Rose.

After a moment, the bees went back to squeezing produce and grabbing cans off shelves. Norma strolled up to her friends and did a little twirl.

“Ladies,” she said.

Marcy raised a brow. “What is this, Norma?”

“Danny gave me a mink. Isn’t it fabulous? He said he found it in the belly of a great white shark. Can you imagine?”

The women stared at their friend Norma. Then Rose tilted her head and smiled. “It’s beautiful, Norma. I certainly wish I had such a fine coat. Look at you—you’re positively glowing!”

Women walking by stopped to stare at the mink, their faces twisted up in looks of revulsion, at first, then straightening out upon hearing Rose go on about how fine the coat was.

Rose continued, “And you say he found it in a shark? That is something! What I wouldn’t give to have my very own mink. You tell Danny, if he finds another, to give it to me!”

“I’ll be sure to!” replied Norma, twirling once more for effect.

Marcy laughed and looked around at the gawking women. “Is this even mink?” she said. “It looks more like otter.”

“Marcy!” said Rose, stepping back in shock.

Norma smoothed her coat and stepped forward. “Danny told me not to gloat, but Marcy, I’ve never had nice things like you. You have many fine coats and dresses. Why, you needn’t be jealous of—”

“Jealous?” interrupted Marcy. “Of what? A mangey wet dog that a fisherman found in the ocean?”

“Now, Marcy,” said Rose. “That’s enough of that.”

Marcy hiked up her purse and stormed out of the store.

The women standing around admiring Norma’s good fortune returned to their shopping.

Rose reached out to feel the coat. “It’s damp.”

“Real mink always feels damp to the touch, Rose.”

Marcy plopped an olive into her martini and stared daggers at her husband.

“If you really loved me, you’d be out there right now buying me a mink—and don’t give me any of that ‘we can’t afford it’ business. I know you have money set aside you’re not telling me about—oh, don’t you look at me like that!”

“Marcy,” said her husband Edgar, rubbing his hand over his face, “for the last time, I don’t have any money hidden away. You’re going to put us on skid row. I don’t mind you trying to keep up with the Joneses but—”

“Keep up? We are the Joneses! Norma is a fisherman’s wife—she shouldn’t be the one parading around in a mink coat.”

“Didn’t you say it came out of a shark’s belly? It can’t look great.”

“It looks positively awful, but Rose and the other women at the supermarket don’t know what a good mink looks like. We’ll show them, Edgar. We’ll show them.”

“This can’t go on—we’ll be eating beans from a tin can if you don’t stop spending all our money.”

“I suppose I should have married a man with more ambition. Maybe there’s still time!”

“Okay, okay….”

“Okay what?” said Marcy.

Edgar bit the tip of his cigar and thought, then smiled. “Let’s have a party.”

“Oh, Edgar! What a splendid idea! But don’t think this gets you out of buying me a mink!”

Norma read the invitation aloud to her husband for the tenth time, practically singing the words, “The Harts cordially invite you to attend an evening of dinner and dancing. Saturday, December 19th. 9 PM until midnight. Seventh Pier, dock 9. The Baluga.”

Danny laughed. “I’ve seen her out on the water. She’s a big ship!”

Norma beamed, scanning the invitation repeatedly, looking for anything she may have missed. “Ever since you gave me this coat, Dan, things have just sort of…been better.”

“It’s not the coat, hun. It’s the way you feel in it. Look at you. You’re like a north star—people want to follow you!” Danny grabbed his wife and twirled her around. “Do you think they’ll let me take her out on the water?”

“Danny, you be a good boy.”

On the night of the party, Norma put on her mink coat and Danny put on the only suit he owned: a too-tight, brown business suit with a missing button. They looked at themselves in the mirror; Danny nodded approvingly and said, “We clean up nice.”

Norma kissed her husband on the cheek. She thought how pleasant it was that he no longer smelled like fish. Instead, he smelled like her mink coat.

They went outside and took a taxi to Dock 9. The sound of music and laughing came from the deck of the Beluga. As they walked toward the boat, Danny nodded at some of the fellas on the pier, their poles bent, still waiting for a catch. The men jeered; Danny waved them away, laughing, smoothing down his blazer.

Norma, who thought she would be nervous to attend such a fancy affair, walked up the gangway as if it were her boat. She looked down at the dark sea slapping the side of the vessel and hummed along to the music coming from the deck.

“Now Danny, remember what I said: don’t just comment on the boat or the sea all night. There’ll be some classy people at this shindig, and I’d like to be invited to more parties.”

“Yes, dear.” Danny patted his wife’s bottom and winked.

Norma giggled, slapping Danny’s hand away.

When they stepped aboard the ship, a man wearing a tuxedo handed them a glass of Champagne. Norma spotted Rose standing by herself, looking out across the dark sea.

“Rose! Isn’t this something?” said Norma.

Danny was distracted by the boat, moving about the deck like a foreman inspecting a construction site, knocking on vents and kicking at clamps to ensure they were up to snuff.

Rose smiled but didn’t reply. Behind her glasses, her eyes were wet.

“Is everything okay, dear?” asked Norma. “You look as if you’ve been crying.”

Rose took Norma by the hand. “Do you think this dress looks drab?”

“Why, no. I think it’s quite pretty.”

“It’s just that…Marcy said it looked like something better suited for a company picnic.”

Edgar came walking up to the women. “Ladies! I’m so happy you were able to join us.”

“Where is Marcy,” said Norma. “I have something to say to her.”

Edgar looked about, then shrugged. “She must be around her somewhere. You know, you inspired her to get a mink of her own. I must insist you not do that again!” Edgar laughed, waving to a cluster of partygoers.

Norma wasn’t surprised; she knew Marcy wouldn’t let her have one nice thing to herself. She smiled politely and said, “This is some boat, Edgar. It must have cost a fortune to rent.”

“Marcy gets what Marcy wants, you know? Anyway, it actually didn’t cost me a dime. A friend owed me a big favor, so I called it in.” He drained his glass and, snatching another glass off of the try of a passing server, said, “Well, it was lovely seeing you ladies, but I better go check on...things.”

The party was even more glamorous than Norma expected; even the stars in the sky seemed to sparkle like fat diamonds on a velvet cloth. She wondered if the night could get any better, and just like that, the captain announced the ship would be going out on the water, and a few minutes later, they were heading out to sea. Norma breathed in the sea air; she’d never truly appreciated the smell of the brine and the sounds of the surf until now. She looked over at her husband, who grinned back at her, but when she turned to ask Rose what she thought of the party, she saw her slipping off into an unlit area of the ship toward the rear of the vessel.

“Norma,” said Marcy, sauntering over. “Glad you could join us.” She was draped in a full-length mink; the shiny fur reflecting the moonlight was the only thing preventing the coat from being completely black. “Sorry it’s taken me so long to swing by—I’ve just had the most wonderful conversation with the mayor’s wife about my new mink. She wanted to know where to get such a fine coat. I told her they’re hard to come by.”

Norma was determined not to acknowledge the coat at all. “Lovely party, Marcy. I can’t even imagine how much all of this must have cost you.”

“Oh, well, we don’t like to think much about money. Edgar will whine about it sometimes, but I don’t see him cutting back on his fine cigars, you know? Anyway, where’s Rose? I don’t think she’s had a chance to feel my new coat yet. Go on, touch it!”

Norma felt the sleeve. It was softer than her coat, there was no denying it. She felt like a shrinking violet. Suddenly, she didn’t much feel like Champagne or dancing. She would have grabbed Danny and gone home right then and there had they not been in the middle of the bay. “Rose headed off that direction,” said Norma, pointing toward the unlit starboard bow.

“Thanks, Dear. I’ll be back and we can…compare our coats.”

Danny walked up as Marcy was leaving. “I see that Marcy got a new mink, but she doesn’t look half as lovely as you, Norma.” He hugged his wife, inhaling the sea scent from her coat. “Don’t let her get you down.”

Norma smiled. “I suppose. It’s just…I was starting to feel like someone new, and now I’m feeling like plain old Norma again. Ignore me, I’m just being a sad-sack. How about another glass?”

“Coming right up, my sea queen.”

The party was dying down, and Danny was taking his time getting her a glass of Champagne, so Norma decided to look for Rose. Walking down the starboard side of the vessel, the boat was ill-lit, and the wind seamed colder than the bright bow where guests sipped their bubbly. She pulled her mink tight around her body and looked out to the dark sea. She imagined the living world beneath those depths, fish, whales, and of course sharks, like the one her mink had been sent to her in. How does a mink end up in a shark, anyway? she thought. Then she noticed a figure approaching her from the stern. It was Rose.

“Rose, where on earth have you been? We’re heading back to shore now.”

Rose smiled and pushed down the sides of her hair. “I just needed to gather my thoughts. Nice party, don’t you think?”

Norma looked past her to the stern. “Where is Marcy? I thought she was with you.”

“She was for a moment. I’m not sure where she went off to.”

Weeks later, Danny stared at the slick belly of yet another great white he’d strung up. He couldn’t believe his luck, this one was even bigger than the last. “Ah, you should have seen it,” said Danny to Jon, who was drinking a beer, his legs dangling down from where he sat on the port side of The Wanderlust. “I’d never been on such a fine boat.”

“She might be nice,” replied Jon, “but there’s no ship here that could match The Wanderlust in heart. And what of the friend? Marcy, was it?”

“Not good, it seems. The Coast Guard thinks she went over. I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time this sort of thing has happened.” He took his hat in his chapped hands and bowed his head solemnly. “Not the way a woman like that wishes to go, I’m sure…but from the sea we came, and to the sea, we shall return.”

“Indeed, Danny-boy. How is Norma taking it?”

“She’ll be okay. Marcy’s husband invited her and her friend Rose over to pick out a few things. It’ll be nice for Norma to have a memento or two.”

“Surprised he’s giving away her things so soon,” said Jon, looking out at a fishing boat bobbing in the distance.

“It’s quick, sure…but it must be hard for him to see all of her belongings, reminding him of better times and all that.”

Danny took out his bait knife and cut down the length of the shark. As he peeled back the flesh, peering into the belly of the beast, he thought about how horrible life would be without his Norma. Sure, they had their fights, but ever since he’d found the mink coat, they’d been happier than they’d been in years. He smiled to himself. The sea provides, he thought. Then he noticed something lodged within the shark’s belly. He reached inside and felt around until he could grab hold, and yanked it out.

“Holy mackerel!” he shouted. He couldn’t believe his luck, for there in his hand was a mink coat, and this one even finer than the last.

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Alfred Hitchcock and Alma Lucy Reville (Lady Hitchcock) - Not sure who took the photo, if you know, DM me!