By Jade Mark Capiñanes
Me and my buddy are tossing rocks back and forth for fun by the riverbank when out of nowhere we spot this kid floating in the air. First glance, we think he’s a big balloon ‘cause he’s all round and there’s a rope dangling from his waist like a string. But he’s a real boy. We don’t know who he is, but we sure figure he’s dead.
These days, finding dead kids floating in the river is no big deal, but seeing one floating in the air? We try reaching him, but no dice. Can’t find a long stick either. So, my buddy goes, “Why not chuck some rocks up there? Maybe we can knock him down.”
“Sounds good,” I say. I grab a rock, toss it up, and bam—hits the kid, but he doesn’t move an inch. My buddy tries with a bigger rock, throws it higher, and the kid shifts a tad. So, we keep at it, chucking rocks until the kid’s within arm’s reach.
We check him out. My buddy asks, “How’d he die?”
I shrug. “Maybe he drowned.”
“But he’s floating in the air,” my buddy points out. “Also, he’s dry.”
“Maybe too much air can drown you,” I suggest.
Suddenly, the wind picks up. Instinct kicks in, and I grab the kid’s leg, holding tight so he doesn’t drift off. We use the rope tied to him to lash him to a nearby tree.
My buddy’s curious about the kid’s name. I guess, “It’s Ophelia.”
He’s like, “But he’s a guy!”
“Why does it matter if dead kids are boys or girls?”
Looks like he’s mulling it over.
“Hey, a little mystery’s fun.”
Then my buddy’s like, “What if someone offed him?”
“Who’d do that?” I ask.
He scratches his head, stumped. “Maybe there’s a plot to mess someone up,” he muses.
I suggest maybe we’re overthinking it, treating the kid like some far-off riddle when he’s right here, real and stiff, tied to a tree. Maybe we should start there.
“Touch the kid,” I say.
He goes, “Nah, you’re giving me the creeps.”
“Dead kids won’t hurt you,” I scoff.
“Whatever,” he says, bored. “Let’s chuck rocks again,” he says, and off we go, hurling rocks till we’re beat.
We call it quits, and there’s the kid, still tied up. Wind kicks up again, but he stays put. “Kid’s going nowhere,” my buddy says. I look at him and think, huh, there’s so much air everywhere, more than I can figure.
Writing from the Philippines, Jade Mark Capiñanes is the author of How to Grieve, a flash fiction collection published by the local indie press Everything’s Fine in 2022. Born and raised in the southern part of the country, he’s currently taking an MFA in Creative Writing at De La Salle University in Manila.
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