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It had been one hell of a week. The crime rate had soared to the point of breaking the city record. Each district had seen a rise in robberies, murders and such. The heat had been blamed, temperatures reached into the 100's every day with no sign of relief in sight. Today was the 23rd day and Peter Caine, Detective at the 101st Precinct, had been on duty for 21 of those days. Several officers had called in sick and vacation time had been pulled until the crisis was over.
"Pete, you're on call this weekend." Chief Frank Stenlich called out, vaguely noticing the sweat ring along the detectives collar, making a path down the front of his shirt. His dark brown hair was matted and pasted to his sweat soaked face. He looked up at the comment, unable to glare at the ex-Marine due to exhaustion. "Frank, I thought I was going to get tomorrow off."
"You don't have to come in, just carry the beeper." Frank tried hard to hold his temper, but the heat and added work load was making it even harder.
Peter let out a sigh and pushed himself away from the desk, allowing the momentum to carry him to the wall. "Fine. I've got to get out of here."
Only Frank noticed the young man's leaving, and was thankful for one less person to be in the room making more body heat.
Peter drove to the park, checking for the pager as he exited the car, making sure he had it and hoping it wouldn't go off. He walked to the water's edge and sat on the dry brown grass and let his mind wonder as he took in the sight of the water. He didn't know how long he sat there, staring off into the sparkling liquid, when he heard a faint cry for help. Peter raised his hand to his forehead to shade his eyes from the glare and aid in seeing the person in distress.
Not seeing anything, he put his hands behind him to prop up on his arms and laid his head back, closing his eyes against the sunlight. It was so hot but the scant breeze that blew in from the water cooled the sweat soaked shirt and him. He again tried to relax, forgetting about the voice. No one else had looked around so he thought he just imagined it.
He was startled awake by the plea for help. His elbows ached from the strain he had placed on them. Working his arms up and down, he peered out over the water. A splash caught his attention. It was maybe 20 feet into the water. Squinting to clear his eyes, he again saw the splash. No one else appeared to hear the call or see the splashing.
Without thinking, Peter dove into the water and swam toward where he saw the object. Nothing was there. Diving down to the bottom of the muddy water, he felt for a person but only grabbed a tin can and some unidentifiable objects. Rising back to the surface, he took another breath of air and dove back down to do another search and again found no body.
His lungs were tired, his arms and legs were tired and he decided to go back to shore. Mary Margaret Skalaney greeted her partner on the shore. "Hey, Partner. That's one way to cool off. What were you doing out there?"
Peter looked at her, shaking his head of the confusion that seemed to cloud his brain. "I heard someone call for help so I jumped in. Came from over...wait...did you see that?" Peter had pointed to the area he saw the splashing and while talking saw another splash.
She looked out over the water, "What? That splash there?"
"Yeah, you saw it?"
Smiling, Mary Margaret gently laid her hand on Peter's shoulder, "Partner, you have worked to much. That is a fish."
"NO! I heard someone say help." He persisted, trying to make her understand that someone was in need of help.
"Look, does anyone else look like they saw someone or heard someone? No? Know why? Because IT...WAS...A...FISH!" She said as she emphasized each word.
Peter looked around, Mary Margaret was right. The only people not playing or taking a nap under the shade of a tree were looking at him. Hanging his head in shame, his eyes drifted at his waist where he saw the small black box attached to his belt. "Oh, no." Peter pulled the pager off his belt and quickly check to see if it still worked after being submerged. To his dismay, the gray screen was blank and water floated between the glass covering and screen. "What am I going to tell the Chief." He lamented, not really expecting an answer.
Mary Margaret smiled, "Tell him, you were saving a drowning fish."
The End
*IN Memory of my pager that died 073098, a victim of fish drowning.
Denise