Deep Water, Deep Trouble

Ty and his father would glance at their fishing lines from time to time, but their focus was on the setting sun. Like most people who visit the beach at dusk on a clear day, they were mesmerized by the glowing orange ball inching its way toward the water. Although this was something the Conners had seen hundreds of times, it never ceased to amaze them. It would only be a few more minutes until the bottom of the orange would appear to touch the water. Then a fiery-looking glow would gradually spread on the surface of the smooth Gulf water as the sun continued to dip below the horizon. When the sun was halfway below the horizon, the glow would reach both sides of the land bordering the bay here. When this occurred, it wasn’t hard to understand why this town’s forefathers named it Sunset Cove.

As in many Southwest Florida towns, those witnessing a “perfect” sunset totally unobstructed by clouds will applaud. As the sun finally dipped out of sight and the glow on the water started to dissipate, Ty put his fishing pole back in the PVC pipe he had stuck into the sand as a holder and joined in the scattered applause on the beach. This little ritual always made his father, Paul, smile. He didn’t smile because he thought it was juvenile or silly. He smiled because nothing made him happier than to see people appreciate the little things in life.

“That was a beauty, wasn’t it, Ty?” Paul asked, still smiling.

“Sure was, Dad. When the sunset is that clear, it always looks like you could take your boat out about twenty miles and grab the sun, doesn’t it?” Ty responded.

“Hmmph,” Paul snorted. “Better not plan on going after that, bud. That little ball you want to pick up is over 90 million miles away and is seven hundred and some miles in diameter. Isn’t that amazing?”

Ty nodded, thinking to himself that what was really amazing was the way his father could spit out all these facts and figures whenever he needed to. He smiled as he remembered what his mother always said when Paul would do something like lose his keys, forget where he parked his car, or come out wearing one brown and one black shoe. She would shake her head and say, “He has so much trivia in his head, there’s no room for any common sense.”

Ty saw motion in the water and realized his father had a bite. “Dad, I think you’ve got something.” Instinctively Paul jerked back on the pole but was either too late or too forceful and lost the bite. “Couldn’t you feel it?” Ty asked.

“Ahh, I had my mind on something else and missed it. I was watching those people down there. You don’t know them, do you?”

“No, why? What are they doing?” Ty asked as he focused on the family stooped over in shallow water just off the beach.

Paul was shaking his head as he answered in disgust, “They’re putting starfish in their beach bucket. Three that I’ve seen, and they’re still looking for more. They’re probably thinking they’ll take them back home and put them on a shelf or something, but what usually happens is they won’t treat them tonight, and they’ll wake up tomorrow with a smelly mess and throw them in the trash. What a waste. They must be tourists who don’t know about the live shell laws.”

“Calm down, Dad. There are probably thousands of starfish out there, and the lucky one that got thrown back will grow another leg eventually.”

“That’s just the point though, Ty. There won’t always be thousands of them if people continue to act so irresponsibly.”

— continued in Deep Water, Deep Trouble. The complete manuscript is available to editors and agents on request.