The metallic banging under the high back porch grew louder as Aleph approached the beach house. He circled the old skiff shielding the clatter and found its source. Busy rummaging through a knocked-over trash can, Spooks lay with his haunches splayed and tail wagging in the fresh sea breeze.

“Watcha lookin’ for, Spooky?” Aleph said.

“Your mom’s cunt,” came a disgruntled voice from the bin.

“Well if you find it,” Aleph retorted, “let me know. I haven’t seen it in a while.”

Spooks wriggled back out of the can and looked Aleph up and down. He seemed suspicious. “Where have you been?” he said.

“I got a line on Padre,” Aleph replied. “Down for a walk to the jetties?”

Spooks hesitated. He looked back at the trash can. “Yeah,” he said. He turned his back on the rubbish and the two of them made their way out onto the street.

Spooks’ mind remained preoccupied as they walked through the sleepy residential neighborhood, barely registering the landmarks Aleph pointed out with stories from his past. They followed the main drag stretching across the sandy loam and pale shrub grasses devoid of cars. Save for the squawk of a stray gull overhead and the distant boom of an incoming tide, the island felt strangely mute and desolate.

On the other side of the road was another neighborhood speckled with stilted homes. At the end of it, running along the channel, was Jetty Park, complete with a parking lot, covered pavilion with two picnic tables underneath, and a small playground.

“We’d come here during school sometimes,” said Aleph. “It’s just this road in, and you can see cars coming with plenty of time to swallow a joint or pull your pants up or whatever.”

Again Spooks was quiet, but noticed for the first time how flat and sparse the area was. He kept this to himself and didn’t break his silence until they were close to the park.

“What the fuck is that kid doing?” he said.

Just beyond the playground on the sandy coastline was a boy, maybe nine or ten years old. He appeared to be digging or chopping at something on the ground, raising some kind of rod over his head with both hands and then bringing it down on the ground. Once. Twice. Again.

As they got closer, Aleph saw the boy’s target. A sea turtle was trying to crawl its way back to the channel. The boy was hatcheting its shell with a pipe of galvanized pipe.

“Hey,” Atef yelled to the boy. “What are you doing?”

The boy looked up at Aleph. Aleph could now see the open crack in the turtle’s shell. He looked back at the boy and the boy stared back at him.

“I found it like this,” said the boy.

Spooks let out a low growl and lowered his head, watching the child. The hair running down his spine bristled.

“Then what’s that in your hand?” said Aleph, nodding at the wet pipe dangling at the boy’s side.

The boy maintained eye contact, shrugged.

“Give it to me,” he said.

The boy didn’t move.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Aleph reassured him. “Just give me the pipe and go home. I’m not going to tell anybody.”

Still the boy didn’t move. Not until Spooks released a vicious bark that startled the boy into dropping the pipe and running. Aleph watched as he ran and hid under the wooden deck stairs of one of the beach houses.

“Fuck that little bastard,” said Spooks. “Someone needs to put him down.”

Aleph turned his back to the boy and picked up the pipe. He stepped in front of the turtle and saw inside its open shell. Writhing insides sloshed in blood, tears streaming down its face as it plodded toward the water.

He bent down and grabbed the turtle by the edge of its carapace and picked it up. It was heavier than he expected and the weight of it strained his muscles as he carried it to the parking lot. The turtle, now traveling through the air, flapped its flippers as if to fly away. When Aleph set it on the cement lot, it continued its futile scuttle toward the water.

Aleph adjusted the weight of the pipe in his hand, aimed, and in one fluid motion, drew it back enough to send it through the turtle’s skull. When it was done, he hoisted the lifeless reptile with great effort and dumped it into the park’s waste bin. It was hot, and soon it would stink and dance with maggots. He threw the pipe into the water and walked toward the jetty.

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