Deeply Page #3

into the bay, Porter.

Nothing but splinters

when it hits the rocks.

I'll be expecting her

to be making it up.

She'll do

what you say, Doc.

Nothing like this

will be happening again...

You have my word.

The clue...

was right under

Silly's nose all the time.

It was the tale performed in

a pageant by the children each year

about the first

European settlers.

- The French?

- No, before that.

A Viking ship was said

to have sailed the island's bay

hundreds of years ago,

looking for land...

and a safe place

to begin a new life.

They came upon

a beautiful bay,

its waters thick with

all the fish in the sea.

They felt

they entered Heaven itself.

But...

as the ship drew

close to the island,

a great storm came up.

And the rough

seas crashed it...

until finally it began

to sink into the freezing bay.

On board, there was a man

and his beloved new bride,

pregnant with

their first child.

They had fought

to get to this new land,

and not even the cruel, brutal

sea would keep them apart.

And as the ship went down,

they cried out to each other.

And for a brief moment,

all the powers of Nature,

the mighty seas themselves,

heard their plea and rose up

to grant the lovers a last wish.

The lovers wished

a curse on the island

that every 50 years,

the fish would dry up.

And all the settlers

in the future, would go hungry.

Payment for

the lives of the sailors

and the unborn child

lost that day.

If the fish disappeared

every 50 years,

then... there had to be

some way of getting them back.

Uh-hu.

That's exactly

what Silly said.

It's happening again.

I don't know.

A couple of weeks.

Well, I just couldn't

leave her in Berlin

staring at the ceiling,

could I?

No.

I don't know. I don't think

she can remember anything.

Well, she's your kid too,

right Max?

Hello?

Hello?

Sh*t!

I didn't

hear you come in.

Your father said

the school called.

They wanna know whether

to hold your room at the dorm.

I remember my first place

in the city, woo!

My God, we used

to get in trouble.

Excuse me

for chatting but...

Uncle Peat isn't exactly

the talkative type,

and I've had this wretched

song in my head all day.

A friggin' jig,

for Pete's sakes!

I know this is hard.

I've loved too, Claire.

I had noticed.

You can barely keep

their names straight.

One of us is going to have

to stop feeling sorry for herself.

Mind the steps, Silly.

Don't be missing spots.

Mmm-hmm...

"Don't be missing spots. "

Finally.

Silly!

Show my guest upstairs.

I hope that the room's

done up as I asked.

I hope it'll do.

After that boat, this is heaven.

I assure you.

Wait 'til you see

the crapper out back.

Top of the stairs,

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