Diego’s chest was rising and falling like a bellows. “Yes. The beach, the beach.”
Although no longer in the water, they were far from safe. They were clinging to a rock, and the tide was coming in. If they stayed there much longer, the waves would cover it, and they would be in an even worse situation than the one they had just overcome.
Clinging to each other like a pair of war-wounded comrades, they made their way across the seaweed-covered rocks, helping each other at the most difficult points. Roberto was amazed at Diego having made it out to the edge of the rocks. He might not be the sharpest tool in the box, to use an unkind expression, and he wasn’t particularly strong, but he was as brave as a lion.
When they reached the spot where Roberto’s clothes lay in a pile on the sand, Diego collapsed in exhaustion. Only then did Roberto realize that Diego had had the good sense to wrap the rope from the buoy around his waist so that the bundle came ashore with them. Roberto’s respect for the boy grew.
Still shivering, Roberto got dressed. With each layer of clothing, he felt the life returning to his body.
“I told you it was dangerous!” The boy stabbed his bony finger into Roberto’s chest. “Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous! You didn’t listen to Diego!”
“You’re absolutely right.” Roberto’s teeth were chattering violently, and he struggled to pronounce each syllable. “I was a fool. I’m really sorry.”
The boy glared at him, still put out. The right sleeve of his soccer shirt had ripped and was flapping like a flag.
“You saved my life, Diego.” Roberto shook his head as he spoke, still shocked by how close he had come to drowning. “You’re a hero.”
“Like Iron Man and Thor?”
“Much better than Iron Man and Thor, believe me.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “They’re not fit to lick your boots.”
“I’m a superhero!” Diego jumped up and down. “A superhero!”
Watching as the boy proceeded to make a series of explosive noises to go with the imaginary lasers he was firing, Roberto was overwhelmed by a sense of affection and gratitude.
While Diego fought with hordes of invaders in another dimension, Roberto turned back and looked at the raging sea. He’d had a near miss. The waves had dragged the yellow bundle to the shoreline and left it half submerged in the sand. Grabbing the rope, he pulled it out of the reach of the sea.
It was very heavy and, seeing it up close for the first time, he wondered what the hell it was.
It was a rectangular package, measuring about five feet along the sides, and one foot high. It had thick yellow plastic around it, enclosed with a pair of stout chains for good measure. At the point where the chains crossed was a huge padlock, and tied to this junction was the rope with the orange buoy at the other end. Fixed to the sides was a pair of sturdy plastic fenders, like scaled-down versions of the ones he’dseen on the national park boat earlier that morning. The fenders were no doubt there to ensure that the whole arrangement stayed afloat.
Roberto gave the bundle a shove and guessed it must weigh at least one hundred pounds. Underneath, attached to the chains, was another rope, the one that had wrapped itself around his ankle, but this was only six feet long and hung loose. It must originally have been attached to a weight, which would have kept the bundle underwater, far from the coast. The buoy would float on the surface while the bundle moved along a few feet below, supported by its fenders, safe from becoming snagged on the seabed but also hidden from prying eyes.
It was a simple but ingenious system. And given where they were, he thought with a shudder, the puzzle was not difficult to solve. The bundle must have been dropped by drug smugglers or narcos to be picked up by their partners in crime, but the sea had torn it free from its weight, and the waves had then washed it ashore, where he had spotted it by pure chance. If it hadn’t been for that coincidence, the bundle would have been smashed against the rocks until the air-filled fenders had been torn to pieces, and then it would have sunk to the bottom of the sea, with only the fish to witness its demise.
Instead, there it was, at his feet.
He smelled trouble, and the temptation to throw the thing back into the sea was almost irresistible, but his curiosity got the better of him—that and the fact that he’d almost died retrieving it from the waves.
“What’s inside?” asked Diego, who had been watching him inspect the bundle.
“I don’t have a clue, but that’s not our problem.” Roberto could feel another, harder layer below the plastic. “We have to take it to the village. Then we can call the Guardia Civil to take care of it.”
“Will they come in a hillycopter?” Diego’s eyes opened wide in excitement. “Last summer one came for a sick tourist. It was cool!”
“It’s called a ‘helicopter’—and I don’t have a clue how they’ll come.” He patted the boy on the shoulder and stared out toward the horizon.“But looking at the state of the sea, I wouldn’t be surprised. We’re going to need help, Diego.”
“I’ll go!” The boy jumped up, scattering sand as he did so, and before Roberto could say another word, he ran off, leaving a trail of indignant seagulls in his wake.
Roberto lay back down on the sand. The heat was gradually returning to his extremities as he overcame the shock. His hands trembling, he took out a cigarette and eventually managed to light it.
He exhaled, lost in thought. No doubt he’d be able to use the experience for a good scene in his novel. Or at least for a good anecdote.Did I ever tell you about the time I almost drowned rescuing a hundred-pound bundle of cocaine?
But right now, he didn’t feel like laughing. He’d just realized he would be buried by an avalanche of tiresome bureaucracy as soon as the authorities arrived. Statements, hearings, and the rest of it.
But that wasn’t the worst thing. The bundle no doubt had an owner. An angry owner who would be looking for it.
Who possibly already was.
