No Little Duck Came Back

I knew what that meant. My body was sinking.

The watch had always been too tight. I could never take it off. Now both of us were sinking into a cold, pitch-black abyss of water.

My father pulled out a cigarette, his movements sharp with impatience. It took him several tries to light it.

"Call the authorities. Make it their problem," he instructed. "When we finally get that no-good brat back home, he's going to be locked in the basement without food for at least three days."

…

The coast guard arrived quickly. Two patrol boats and a lifeboat pulled into the harbor.

Captain Cameron Meyer studied the red dot on the screen, his expression grave. "Are you sure this indicates a watch he threw away, not the boy himself?"

My father exhaled smoke and avoided the captain's gaze.

"Look, he definitely threw it away. He's a strong swimmer. There's no way he's stupid enough to stay in one spot for that long," he said in a flat tone. "Check nearby islands or boats. See if anyone's spotted him or picked him up."

Captain Meyer furrowed his brow and reviewed the wave intensity data. His frown deepened.

"In my experience, this object is sinking at a steady rate. A small item like a watch wouldn't do that," he said. "If what we're seeing isn't a watch but a person, then at this depth… There's no chance he's alive. I'm afraid our mission has shifted from search and rescue to body recovery."

My father's cigarette trembled. Ash dropped onto his hand and burned his skin, but he did not react. He stared at the captain. "What? Body recovery?!"

"Did you just curse my son?" my mother shrieked.

She grabbed the captain by the shoulders, her fingers digging into his uniform. "He's hiding! He's hiding! He's a pathological liar, a useless brat! He does things like this!"

Captain Meyer ignored her and gave a signal. Several guards, already in diving gear, lifted their oxygen tanks and slipped into the water.

The sonar radar let out a sharp, piercing beep. As the divers descended, the signal arcs on the screen faded.

I realized, with a dull ache, how unsettling it was to see my mother in hysterics. She was finally looking for me, even if it was too late.

The lifeboat rose and fell with the waves. Pale spotlights swept across the surface in steady intervals.

My parents stood on deck as the wind disrupted their carefully styled hair and the spray soaked their expensive clothes. They looked diminished. They still could not accept that I might already be dead.

The captain's radio crackled.

"Mr. Folly?" one of the divers said. "We found something lodged between coral reefs about 100 feet down."

My father gripped the railing so tightly his knuckles turned white. "What is it? Is he hiding there? Pull him out right now. I'll break his bones!"

Moments later, bubbles churned at the surface. A diver emerged, raising a single shoe. Its white sole had yellowed from the saltwater. The material had begun to separate, but the laces remained tied. An ugly smiley face was drawn across it.

The diver set it on the deck with a small splash. Water dripped from it and spread toward my father's polished shoe.

My mother froze. She covered her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. "This… This can't be…"