Deep End by: Kiya Brassow, Archival Inkjet Print, 2018
Chance had remembered coming to the park when he was a little kid to feed the ducks. Not the geese, though. They were always so mean. His grandmother had brought along a bag of cheap bread with them. The pair of them would sit, tearing it to shreds and scattering it out for the birds as they talked. The conversations mostly were about his school and how much he loved the ‘duckies.’ Though the one thing that stuck out in his mind whenever he looked back was a shape he always saw out of the corner of his eye whenever they were there for long; a pale shape lurking that would disappear as soon as he would look towards it. Only a ripple was left to prove he wasn’t imagining that something was there.
Since then, he had developed a love for cryptids and legends. From Nessie to Mothman, anything weird and unexplained was his bread and butter. Chance had thought he would have been able to find something related to Coos Bay’s very own cryptid online, but his searches, regardless of what he tried, gave him nothing at all. The only thing he managed to find were a few people around town that at least knew what he was talking about. No one had a real description of the creature, but a couple of them added they had seen a green plant being pulled deep into the water where they had thought the pale shape had been.
It was a little annoying that he didn’t have more to go on, but it did give him a challenge. He could be the one who named this creature, and, maybe, just maybe, he could even get a picture of it. That would be a huge stroke of luck, and would finally prove to his friends that he hadn’t ever made up the stories of seeing that thing. Heck, he might even get famous from proving this creature existed. And it was this thought that spurred him down the path towards the pond with a backpack and camera on him.
The pond hadn’t really changed from when he was a kid. The fountain was still in the center of it, and there were still little ducks. Chance took a deep breath of the fresh air, and made his way over to one of the benches along the edge of the water. He set his bag next to him, digging through it in search of the bag of bread he had brought with him. Since he was last there, he had learned that bread wasn’t good for the ducks— something about them filling up on it and not eating real food. He hadn’t really paid much attention to it besides “ducks and bread is bad.” So, much as he’d rather be giving them bird seed, he was worried the switch would mean no creature. It seemed partial to the bread from his memory. Or at least he thought it did.
So, just like when he was young, Chance sat, shredded the bread and tossed it to the ducks. They were used to people at this point that, the second they saw him with the food, they were coming right up to him. Only the little ducklings seemed to be wary of his bread. Though they too were soon joining in once their mothers started eating. It was cute, and… just the tiniest bit bittersweet. His grandmother always loved the ducklings, and would bring him out there almost every week to see them once she found out they had hatched. Though as she got older, their adventures down to Coos Bay’s park became less and less frequent. Her knees were weak now and she spent most of her days in an old folk’s home an hour and a half away.
Chance stared at the ducklings that were pecking at the ground, with the only sounds around being the quacks and the sound of the fountain. He missed this place, and the time he and his grandmother had spent together here. Chance went back to his backpack, pulling out his camera and snapping a few pictures of the ducklings. He’d get them printed up, and bring them to her; she’d enjoy seeing the ducklings again.
As he did, there it was. That pale shape out of the corner of his eye. He fought the urge to jerk his head towards the shape. Maybe, just maybe, he could get a picture of whatever it was if he shot from his lap. Chance lowered his camera to his lap and moved his backpack to the other side of himself to clear the shot. He would only have one chance at this, and he didn’t want anything to screw with the pictures. With what little he could see without turning his head, Chance positioned the camera just right. He held his breath, and took a quick burst of pictures.
The rapid fire shutter noise spooked both the ducks and whatever the creature was. His eyes quickly trained on where it was, and, sure enough, there was the ripples. A grin spread across his face and he checked the pictures. Most were a blurry mess, but the first two, those were clear as he could possibly hope for. There it was. A pale head poking up out of the water, with two dark, pupil-less eyes staring at where Chance had to be sitting.
Chance had been expecting feathers or scales on the creature, but instead, it almost looked like it had fur similar to a seal. It was almost cute.
Chance snapped a picture of his camera’s display with his phone, and sent it to his friends. He dumped the last of the bread out on the ground as one last “thank you” to the ducks. Then, he headed back up the path. He was going to have to come back again. He’d eventually get a better picture of whatever it was and research what he could while out there. This was proof of some unexplained creature! How many people could say that?
His phone buzzed on his way back to the car with his friend’s answers, and he ignored them with a sense of smug pride. They were wrong, and he was right. And when he checked his phone…
[Msg: Alex] is that an alien mask in the water????
[Msg: John] This again?
[Msg: Julian] Fake. News.