Final Breath

the wind kicked up.

Kyle wandered back to the beach house, but there was still no sign of his nephew. This awful feeling swelled in the pit of his stomach. He kept calling out his name--and even his friend's name--Earl. He glanced out at the raft in the distance, rocking back and forth in the choppy waters. There were still about twenty people on it--mostly teenagers who were too stupid to swim in when it was about to downpour.

'Who's Eli? Is he your son?'

Kyle turned and gaped at a handsome man in his late thirties. He was lean and tan, with short black hair that was graying at the temples. He wore blue Hawaiian-print trunks.

'Um, he's my nephew,' Kyle said. He looked out at the raft again.

The stranger followed his gaze. 'I'll go swim out there and check around. What does Eli look like?'

'He--ah, he's twelve, and thin,' Kyle answered. He kept glancing around. 'He's got short, light brown hair...'

'What color are his swim trunks?' the man asked.

Kyle shrugged. 'I'm not sure. He had his shorts on over them when we came here. He went to meet a friend named Earl. He was supposed to check in with me a half hour ago.'

'Does he have any tattoos or piercings?'

Kyle squinted at him. 'He's twelve.'

'I'm kidding,' the man said. 'Be right back.'

Kyle watched him run into the water and start swimming out to the raft. The clouds on the horizon grew darker. He heard the distant rumble of thunder. The lifeguard up on his perch put on an orange windbreaker. The beach was emptying out. A few people on the raft were diving off and swimming toward shore. 'Eli! Eli McCloud!' Kyle tried again.

He saw the man in the blue Hawaiian trunks pull himself up onto the raft. Then he put his hands around his mouth. Kyle could almost hear him calling Eli's name. The handsome stranger wandered around the raft. He stopped to talk to one kid, then another and another. Each time, the kid shook his head at him. Finally, he walked back toward the edge of the raft, waved at Kyle, then shrugged and shook his head.

'Damn,' Kyle muttered. He felt some raindrops.

The man in the blue trunks dove back in the water. Some more kids vacated the raft after him. There weren't many people still in the lake. Kyle didn't see Eli among them. He noticed that his Good Samaritan had stopped swimming and now stood in the shallower water. He put his hands around his mouth again and called out for Eli.

Kyle reminded himself that Eli was the son of a cop. He knew better than to get into a car with some stranger. And he was with a friend. Wasn't there safety in numbers? Still, Kyle couldn't help imagining the worst. He could almost hear the TV newscaster tonight: 'The search continues for two missing teenage boys...'

Dripping wet and shivering a bit, the man trotted up to him. 'I'm sorry I wasn't any help.'

Kyle nodded distractedly. 'That's okay. Thank you, thank you very much.'

'I'm sure he'll show up,' the man said, touching Kyle's arm with his cold, wet hand. 'He and his buddy probably just wandered off. There's the playground right up the street, and all the restaurants, and the bakery. I'm sure he's not far.'

'What am I going to tell his mom?' Kyle murmured--almost to himself.

'Listen, my name's Dan,' the man said. 'What's yours?'

Dazed, Kyle blinked at him. 'Um, Kyle.'

'As soon as I dry off, Kyle, I'm heading down the block. If I see anyone looking like your nephew, I'll call you. What's your phone number?'

Kyle gave him his cell number.

The man squeezed his shoulder. 'I'm sure Eli's all right. I'll call and check in with you, okay?'

'Okay, thanks,' Kyle said.

The man hurried over to his blanket on the beach's nearly empty north section. He started to dry himself off, then grabbed his backpack.

Kyle turned toward the other side of the beach. Except for a few stragglers--and some scraps of litter rolling in the wind--the south section was barren. The rain started coming down a little harder.

'What am I going to tell his mother?' Kyle whispered again.

For a moment, Eli couldn't move. He locked eyes with the man on the other side of the periodical stacks. Between the slats in the shelves, he could see the man's dark complexion, and those dark eyes--one clear and the other red from a broken blood vessel or some kind of infection. He was only a few feet away.

There was a flash of lightning, followed by a muted rumble of thunder in the distance. Rain started slashing against the library's windows. But the man kept staring at him--the same way he'd stared on Saturday at the fun fair and yesterday on the bus.

The printer let out a beep to signify that his copy of the newspaper article was ready. Eli grabbed the paper from the printer. His hands shook as he quickly pulled the microfilm spool from the scanner, then he switched off the computer.

Another lightning flash illuminated the whole reference room for a moment, then another crack of thunder-- closer this time.

Eli glanced over toward the periodical shelf again. The man wasn't there anymore.

With the microfilm spool and the printed article in his hands, Eli hurried around to the other side of the newspaper and magazine rack. He checked the next row of shelves and the next. All the while, rain beat against the library's windows, and shadows cascaded on the interior walls and floor; it almost seemed to be raining inside as well. Eli kept glancing around for that man with the strange eye and the dark complexion, but he didn't see him anywhere.

Yet he couldn't shake the sensation that the man was still watching him.

Eli hurried to the reference desk and returned the microfilm spool. He missed the pretty librarian from yesterday. This woman was nice enough, but no looker. She was middle-aged, with a long face and mousey brown hair. The lights flickered for a second. The woman glanced up from her work. 'My goodness, I hope we don't lose power,' she said, taking the microfilm spool from him. 'The storm sure came on suddenly. To think, it started out to be a perfect beach day.'

Eli suddenly realized his uncle was probably wandering around the beach looking for him in this pouring rain. 'Is there a pay phone around here?' he asked, digging into his pocket and feeling for change.

Nodding, the librarian pointed to her right. 'There's one by the restrooms. Go down that way and take another right.'

'Thank you.' As Eli hurried in that direction, he glanced over his shoulder. He didn't see that strange man anywhere. Up ahead was the sign for the washrooms. He turned down the corridor and spotted the pay phone. Grabbing the receiver, he slipped two quarters into the coin slot.

Having stayed with his uncle for nearly three weeks, Eli knew his cell phone number by heart. Uncle Kyle answered after one ring: 'Yes, hello?' He sounded panicked.

'Uncle Kyle?'

'Oh, thank God,' he said. 'Are you all right? Where the hell did you go?'

'Um, Earl wanted to go check out some CDs at Everyday Music, so we grabbed a bus to Capitol Hill,' he lied. 'We went looking for you to tell you, and even waited around for a while. I thought we'd be back in time--'

'Good God, Eli, I'm about to have an aneurysm here,' Kyle said. 'I almost got struck by lightning wandering around the beach in this storm looking for your sorry ass.'

Eli swallowed hard. 'I'm really sorry, Uncle Kyle. I didn't think--um, Earl would take this long.' That much was true. He'd counted on finding the article about Earl Sayers in just a few minutes. 'Anyway, I'll grab the first bus back to Madison Park.'

'No, you'll drown in this rain,' his uncle said. 'I'll come pick you up. And then I'm going to kill you.'

'Is Mom freaking out?' Eli asked, grimacing.

'She doesn't know, and she doesn't have to know. If I tell her I lost you at the beach, she'll go ballistic on the both of us. It would be a bloodbath. So--you're at Everyday Music, huh? I'll be there in about ten minutes.'