Midsection Beach. Hugo approaches Locke, who appears to be tanning a hide. "Is this about your census?" Locke asks, and adds, "Who's checking on you?" When Hugo looks nonplussed, Locke says, "It was a joke." "Oh," Hugo says. "[expertly timed comic pause] Good one." Locke, who is so yucky that out of the other ten thousand possible containers scattered around the beach, he chooses a dead child's shoe to pour sand onto the hide he's tanning, tells him he lived in Tustin, California, and that he went to Australia "looking for something." "Right on," Hugo says, writing that down. "Didja find it?" Locke looks up at the sky and replies, "It found me." Hugo quickly waylays a nearby castaway, telling her, "I know I already talked to you, but I just wanted to get away from him for a second." Ha!
Kate, Jack, and Charlie are walking along the beach. Jack doesn't think anyone actually attacked Claire; Charlie's angry because he thinks Jack's accusing Claire of making it up. Jack explains that pregnant women have very lucid anxiety nightmares, but that only makes Charlie angrier, until -- just like when she broke up a fistfight with a reprimand -- Kate once again demonstrates the kind of authority you'd think would require more than a cute upturned nose to acquire, getting Charlie to shut up with a single word. Jack tells them that Claire's due in a week, but that any more panicky moments could trigger an early labor, and that out here on an island, that "would not be good." Now, I'm no jinocologist, as Alfred Kinsey would say, but it seems to me that the delivery of Claire's baby is going to be difficult here on an island whether it happens on her exact due date or a week earlier. I mean, we're not talking about Claire delivering a Cabbage Patch preemie, here. It's a week, Doc.