POOL SHARKS by Mark Mitchell

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Patrick took in as much oxygen as his young lungs could hold then plunged beneath the choppy water toward the depths below. Without the aid of flippers, his little feet kicking up and down could only propel him several inches at a time. He had one arm straight out in front of him, clutching on to his favorite action figure: Seal Team Six Scuba Scout Sergeant Shep Stronghold. The Navy-inspired action figure led the way to the pool’s deep end. Dead bugs and discarded leaves swayed on the stucco floor below. Once at the bottom, Patrick altered course and turned his head back to the surface where the last rays of sunlight shimmered against the alternating iridescent tiles marking the pool’s edges. Patrick crouched down, looking like a frog on the bottom of the pool. He extended his legs and shot straight up as if he were a human submarine rising to the surface. Shep Stronghold burst out into the chilling evening air, followed soon after by Patrick. Water droplets flew off his bluing lips with an expulsion of air.

“Mission accomplished!” Patrick said. “Back to base, Sergeant Stronghold!”

Patrick mimed the action, kicking Shep’s legs as if he were alive. The action figure climbed over the pool’s lipped edge—with Patrick’s aid of course—and turned around to congratulate the kid on a job well done.

A shadow fell over Patrick, and he turned the action figure around. They both looked up at his mom standing over them, her arms akimbo.

“Come on, Patrick,” she said. “It’s time to go home.”

“Ah, Mom,” Patrick’s voice whined. “Five more minutes, we just found the shipwreck.” Patrick gazed down at the eight-foot bottom of the deep end, doing his best to sell his mother on the idea of there being sunken treasure.

“You said five minutes, fifteen minutes ago. Come on, I have to get dinner on. Your father will be home soon.” She held out a large beach towel to wrap him in.

“What about the—”

“I’m sure no one will steal your treasure before tomorrow.”

Patrick scoffed but did as he was told. He climbed over the edge of the pool and stood dripping the overly chlorinated water on Shep’s snorkel-masked face. He pushed his own googles up on his head and turned so that his mother could wrap him in the seashell-patterned towel. She tucked the ends in and kissed the top of his saturated head.

“Why do we always have to leave so early?” Patrick asked.

“Early? We’ve been here for over four hours. If you keep this up, you might just turn into a fish.” Patrick’s mother tickled his sides. He shied away, giggling. “Besides, you don’t want to be here after dark anyway.” She gathered up her things, a yellowed paperback novel, sunglasses, water bottle, sunscreen.

“Why not?” Patrick said. The question dripped with curiosity, much like the ends of his matted hair.

“It’s not safe for eight-year-old boys. That’s why.”

She held the black iron gate open for him. Patrick stooped and picked up his action figure, tucking him into the towel to dry off as well. He walked under his mom’s outstretched arm.

“Why not?” Patrick asked again.

“Well, because, once the pool is closed, that’s when the pool sharks come out.”

Patrick picked up on an unsureness in her voice. He gave his mother a skeptical glare.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Everybody knows about the pool sharks. I’m surprised you don’t. I thought for sure one of your friends would have told you about them by now.”

“Mom, do you mind?” Patrick stopped walking. He had one leg out further than the other. “I’d like to have my leg back, please.” She laughed. The joke was one of his father’s favorites to use whenever he felt someone trying to pull a fast one on him. She shrugged.

“All right, don’t believe me.” She walked on ahead. Patrick hurried to keep up.

“You’re not foolin’?”

“Could I make something like that up?” She smirked. “You’re probably wondering why they release sharks at night, right?” He nodded. “It’s a form of security. The sharks make sure no one swims at night or vandalizes the pool. When I was your age, pools all over town were dyed different colors. Or trash was thrown in them. One even had a whole mattress at its bottom. Can you believe that? Gives new meaning to the term waterbed, huh?”

“You’re making this all up,” Patrick said. They had reached their home. She patted her pocket for her ring of keys. With the correct key chosen, she unlocked the door.

“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it. Won’t you?”

* * *

After dinner, Patrick joined his dad on the couch. His dad nursed the rest of a beer and turned on a ball game while Patrick watched videos about sharks on his tablet and regaled him with facts.

“Look at this one,” Patrick said. He held the tablet up for his father to see. “It’s called a cookie cutter shark and it takes small bites out of the sides of larger animals, like this whale.”

“Yeah, interesting,” his father said. He glanced at the photo then back to the TV. “Oh come on, that was out of the strike zone, for Pete’s sake!”

“Did you know scientists have found all kinds of random objects in the stomachs of tiger sharks?” Patrick went on with his natural science lesson, despite the little attention his father paid him. “Bits of tires, license plates, even a full suit of armor.”

When the game went to a commercial break, his father took a sip from his bottle and glanced back at the tablet. Patrick had brought up a video of a shark attack off the coast of South Africa. The water turned red as the shaky camera work captured the tumultuous encounter.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be watching that,” his father said, though he made no effort to take the tablet away.

“Ah, Dad, I gotta stay informed.”

“What is this for, a school project or something?”

“No, mom told me all about the pool sharks.”

“The pool sharks?”

“Huh-uh.” Patrick intently watched the next video. “Ah, cool. So much blood.”

“What exactly did she tell you?”

“She told me about how sharks are released in the pool to keep people out at night.”

“And you believed her?”

“Not at first, no.” Patrick became introspective. “What do you think they look like?”

“I don’t know, bud.” His dad drained the last of the bottle’s suds. “But I doubt there are any sharks in the pool at night. Or anytime for that matter. They wouldn’t be able to survive in the chlorine.”

“Why not?”

“They wouldn’t be able to breathe, I suppose.”

“Patrick,” his mom said, cutting in. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you run upstairs and brush your teeth. I’ll be up shortly to read you a story if you want.”

“But, Mom, we’re watching the game.”

“Do as your mother says,” his dad said.

“Oh, all right.” His dad gave him a kiss and a hug. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Night, sport.”

Patrick started to leave, then turned around. He handed his dad the tablet.

“Maybe you can find out some more information on the pool sharks for me.”

“Will do,” his dad agreed. “I’ll tell you all about it at breakfast.”

* * *

That night, after Patrick heard his parents turn in, he grabbed his binoculars and stood on his bed, looking out the window. From his vantage point he could see the neighborhood’s community pool. The light in the pool had come on and showed the water to be empty. Not even the breeze was strong enough to cause a ripple at the surface.

Patrick used the binoculars to scan the entire length of the pool. He held his breath, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the fabled sharks his mom told him about. Despite training his eyes on the pool for several minutes, he saw nothing. He was about to give up and go back to bed when a large shadow passed through the underwater beam of light. The sudden pulse of light caught his eye. Patrick lifted the binoculars and gazed toward the deep end of the pool.

There was something there, but what exactly, he couldn’t say. His binoculars were only cheap toy ones that came with his safari adventurer costume he wore last Halloween. He could almost see better without them.

Something was in the pool though. The water swished back and forth against the sides. Patrick repositioned himself on the bed, trying to get a clearer view. The light in the deep end flickered as if it were about to short out. After several flashes, the light did go out, making it harder for him to see. Streetlights outside the fenced-in pool area gave off a slight tinge of orange on the surface of the water. Whatever swam in the pool, went for deeper water. Patrick could no longer see anything.

Engrossed with the mysterious creature, Patrick didn’t hear his bedroom door creak open. The creature surfaced again. This time Patrick could just make out the triangle shape of a fin cutting through the water. His mouth dropped open. Could he really be seeing this? His fingers gripped the rough edges of the plastic binoculars.

“Why aren’t you in bed?”

Patrick’s hands fell to his sides and he dropped down onto the bed. He smiled at his mother’s silhouette tapping her foot in the glow of the hall light.

“What were you doing?” she asked, stepping into the dark of the room.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” She helped him back under the covers before picking up the binoculars that had tumbled onto the floor. She held them for Patrick to see.

“I was gathering data,” he said. He displayed his toothy grin.

“Hmm-mmm.” His mother shook her head and put the binoculars on his dresser.

“Mom, can we go to the pool again tomorrow?”

“I suppose so,” she said. “Is that what you were looking at?” Patrick melted behind his covers. “I thought so.” She kissed the top of his head. “I want you to go to sleep.”

“Okay, Mom.”

She blew him another kiss from the door before closing it. Patrick waited till the hall light went out. He cocked an ear to make sure the coast was clear. Assured he wouldn’t be caught a second time, he hopped back up on the bed and peered out the window.

The pool light had come back on. The water was calm. No shadowy creature swimming after hours. Patrick didn’t know what to believe. He got snuggled under the covers and did his best to forget about it until tomorrow when he could do more investigative work.

* * *

Over the next couple days Patrick’s mom took him back to the pool. With Shep Stronghold to help him, they explored every corner of the pool looking for some sort of opening the creature could have appeared from. In his head Patrick kept a check list of possible entrances. There weren’t many. The creature could have come from the filtration system, though he was sure that wasn’t the answer. The creature had appeared much larger than the small hole would allow. Holding his breath, he attempted to remove the pool light in the deep end. He was surprised the light popped out easily. He hurried to replace it before his mother looked up from her paperback to inquire what damage he had done to the community pool.

Despite all of his searching, he hadn’t come up with any credible evidence for what he had seen through his binoculars. That was until he looked inside the leaf catcher. Swirling around inside were dozens of leaves and dead June bugs.

“Patrick, what are you doing?”

“Nothing, Mom.” Patrick tried to force the cover back on. She eyed him for a second then turned a dog-eared page and went back to reading.

He hadn’t found any evidence of what he’d seen that one night, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. Only that he would have to wait for a time he could further his investigations. A time when he could come back and explore when the animal would be there. A time at night.

“Cannonball!”

He ran toward the pool, leaping in the air, and pulled his knees to his chest. The splash drenched his unsuspecting mom reading on the chaise lounge. She stood up with a shout. Water dripped from her.

“Patrick!”

He dove under water, giggling. A chain of bubbles trailed behind him.

* * *

“All right, Patrick. I want you to be on your best behavior tonight.”

Patrick sat on the couch, doing his best to appear innocent. His mom and dad, dressed in their nicest evening attire, were going out to dinner for their anniversary. That meant a babysitter. Lucky for him they had hired Jenelle for the night. Patrick liked when she would babysit because he knew she would spend more time on the phone than watching him.

“What else would I be?” Patrick said and smiled. His mom eyed him. His father checked his watch, urging her to come along.

“I left the number of the restaurant by the phone,” Patrick’s mom told Jenelle. “There’s some money if you want to order a pizza for dinner. Of course there’s some leftover meatloaf in the fridge. I bought fresh bread the other day if you two would rather make sandwiches. I would heat it for a few minutes, then use the thermometer to—”

“Honey, I’m sure they will be fine,” his dad said. “Leave the poor girl alone.” Jenelle smiled. Her braces sparkled in the light.

“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it all,” Jenelle said. She bent at the waist and put her hands on her knees to be eye level with Patrick. “We can play board games. Maybe watch a horror movie.” She winked at him. Standing up, she added, “Nothing too scary though of course.”

“Of course.”

Patrick hopped off the couch and gave both his parents a hug goodbye. They hadn’t even pulled out of the driveway before Janelle picked up her phone and called her friend Stephanie.

“As I was saying, Bobby’s going to ask you to the dance for sure,” Jenelle said. “Samantha told Lisa, who told William, who let Trevor know he was going to ask you. The whole school knows about it by now. He can’t back out of it.”

Jenelle took her call into the other room. Patrick peeled back the drapes and watched his parents’ car till they turned at the end of the street.

“I’ll be up in my room,” Patrick said to Jenelle. She didn’t respond. Not even to turn in his direction. Instead she continued to yak away on the phone, lost in an animated dialogue. Patrick ran up the stairs two at a time and closed his bedroom door behind him.

Under his bed he grabbed his supplies for the upcoming mission. One pair of swim trunks. One pair of goggles. One beach towel. One Seal Team Six Scuba Scout Sergeant Shep Stronghold action figure.

He gazed out the window at his destination. The swimming pool was empty. The last guests having left hours ago. Now the water had settled. The light in the deep end shone brightly.

Patrick stuffed his supplies into a knapsack. He padded down the stairs as quiet as a mouse. He could have stomped down like an elephant if he wanted. Jenelle never would have noticed. This way was more fun though. Like a true secret mission.

He crossed to the front door, unlocked the deadbolt, and slipped out into the balmy night. When he reached the community pool, he pulled the key he had acquired earlier in the day from his sock. The black gate’s hinges squealed when Patrick opened it. He left the gate closed over in the event he might need to make a quick escape. He operated in full stealth mode, changing into his swim trunks in the niche used to rinse off the chlorine after swimming. With the switch from “run of the mill” Patrick to “cover of darkness expedition” Patrick completed, he stood at the edge of the pool, gazing into its glassy surface.

“Is the mission a go?”

Patrick held his action figure up to his face. The always stolid Shep Stronghold unflinchingly smirked back. Patrick lowered the doll. Usually he had no qualms about diving right in without testing the water first, but for reasons unknown even to him, he hesitated that night. It could have been because he knew he shouldn’t be at the pool at night. Especially unattended. But it certainly wasn’t because he was scared. He’d give you apprehensive, but not scared. He wasn’t allowed to be scared. Not with Sergeant Shep Stronghold counting on him to be brave.

He lowered his goggles from his forehead, plugged his nose with his free hand, and took the plunge.

The heat of the day had soaked into the water, making it much warmer than usual. Patrick broke through the surface, coming up for air. Quiet surrounded the pool. Patrick peered at the houses nearby, making sure no one had caught on to his secret mission. With the coast clear, Shep Stronghold led the way around the perimeter of the pool. Whatever had happened the other night when Patrick had seen the mysterious creature from his bedroom window, he would be ready for it this time with a front row seat.

Any apprehensions he had been feeling melted away in the warm hug of chlorinated water. Patrick dove under for as long as he could before returning for more oxygen. He repeated the move several times until the whole area of the pool had been canvassed. The longer he swam, the more he was convinced he had imagined the whole scene a few nights ago. He normally would have been disappointed with his findings, but there was something fun about his illicit nighttime swim. Patrick hardly ever broke the rules but lived in the area where they could bend. This was the first occasion severe punishment awaited him if he were to be caught.

As the time passed without event, Patrick decided he shouldn’t push his luck much further. Jenelle may not be the most attentive babysitter, but at some point she would have to put the phone down to inquire what he would like to order for dinner. He had to sneak back into the house and dry off before that happened. Wet hair might be hard to explain when the shower hadn’t been turned on.

“Back to base,” he said. The ever cooperative Shep agreed.

Patrick swam to the side of the pool with the metal rungs to climb out. He got no further than the first step when the light in the deep end began to flash. Patrick froze in place. Despite the warmth of the night, a shiver ran down his spine. The light flickered again and stayed off. He looked over his shoulder with a gulp.

Through the darkened water, the pool light had fallen out of its socket and dangled by its cord. A black orifice stood in place of where the light should have been.

Patrick was indecisive on what action to take. Part of him said to get out of the pool. This was no safe place for a young boy at night. Another part of him, the adventurous side, told him to get back in the water. After all, this was the whole reason he came tonight. To discover the truth.

The latter part of him won out and he slipped back into the water.

With the light out, it was a whole different world. Telling the difference between the pool’s floor and the surface became much more difficult. Both were an ashy gray color. Patrick didn’t let this deter him as he made his way toward the deep end. He held Shep up to his face, but without the light he could barely make out the well-known face of the scuba scout. Visibility was only mere inches past his fogging goggles. He stopped to fix the problem.

Preoccupied with rinsing the goggles out, something swam past him swiftly. Patrick jerked his head in the direction of the moving shadow. It had passed close enough for him to reach out and touch. Regret washed over him. This had been a bad idea.

He swam for the ladder to climb out, not wasting time to look back. Whatever had passed him would hopefully continue on and not pay any attention to his getaway. Wish in one hand, his mother would have said if she knew what he’d been up to.

Patrick reached out. His fingertips brushing the metallic rungs when something pulled his whole body backwards. The creature had a hold on his swim trunks. He stretched out hopelessly for the ladder as the creature yanked him further and further away from safety.

All at once the creature let go, leaving him floating in the center of the pool. Patrick twisted, trying to look in every direction at the same time. He felt the animal scrape along his leg, reminding him of sandpaper. Then he saw it passing between his limbs.

It’s solid, slender body snaked by Patrick. Shep Stronghold sank to the bottom of the pool. Patrick ditched his toy to retrieve later, if at all. The only thought on his mind: he had to get out of the water.

He dog paddled for the shallow end. Once again the shark grabbed him from behind. This time it dragged him under. Patrick gulped for air, getting a stomach full of water instead. The shark thrashed his head back and forth, tearing Patrick’s trunks before letting go.

Patrick drifted up to the surface. He coughed out his mouthful of water. The renewal of air burned in his lungs. He searched for the nearest edge to climb out. The shark, as if it could read his impressionable mind, circled around him, cutting him off in every direction. Patrick was left with one last line of defense.

“Help! Someone, please, help!”

Patrick yelled with all the strength left in him. Windows in the surrounding houses lit up. Blinds pinched open. Drapes pulled aside.

As Patrick tried to yell out a second time, the shark latched on to his hip and pulled him back under. His pleas for rescue were obscured into a mishmash of bubbles. The windows returned to their former gloom, extinguishing Patrick’s hopes of receiving help.

Patrick gave himself over to his fate, turning his thoughts to his mother. If somehow he survived this deadly encounter, he vowed to always follow what his mother told him. He would be a good little boy from now on. He would brush his teeth without griping. Go to bed without protest. Eat all of his vegetables. Do his homework. All of it. Whatever his parents told him to do, consider it done. He only wanted to live.

While distracted by these thoughts, Patrick failed to realize the shark had let go and now made its way toward the deep end. The shark swam into the hole of the missing pool light. Once inside, the light resumed its normal place. The bulb flickered a few times before finally staying lit.

Patrick paddled to the side of the pool. He pulled himself out and rolled over onto his back. Steam rose from his body. The night had become cool. His stomach billowed up and down, drawing breath in and out.

When he got his heart rate down to a manageable level, Patrick turned on his side. Through the swishing water, Shep Stronghold stared up through the murk. He wanted to go back in and save his friend, but fear kept him on solid ground. A mission for another time.

He assessed the damage to his swim trunks. They were torn on the left side. One of the shark’s ragged teeth had left a scratch on his hip. In the years after he would sport a scar he couldn’t explain. Who would have ever believed he had been the victim of a pool shark attack? But he knew the truth of what had happened. Even if he could never prove it.

Feeling returned to his legs, allowing him to stand. He gathered up his belongings and waddled toward the gate. One hand had the task of holding his trunks together, otherwise he would have looked like the Coppertone baby on the way home.

Going through the gate, he let the door slam behind him, no longer caring if anyone caught him sneaking out. His feet slapped the pavement until he reached the front door.

Patrick closed the front door as quietly as he could and beelined for the stairs. Jenelle came around the corner, her phone cradled in the crook of her neck.

“There you are,” she said. “Where have you been? I ordered the pizza already. Should be here soon.”

Patrick kept his head down; his hand clutching his torn trunks. He left a trail of waterlogged footsteps in his wake.

“Why are you all wet?”

He didn’t respond, only ran up the stairs. Reaching his room, Patrick locked the door and fell back onto his bed. Exhaustion passed over him like a drifting cloud on the face of the moon.

* * *

The next day, though, he didn’t feel like swimming, Patrick gave little protest when his mom asked if he wanted to spend the day at the pool. At the very least he was curious to find out if there were any signs of his encounter with the pool shark from the night before.

He had to find an alternate pair of swim trunks to wear since his ripped ones he’d hidden at the bottom of the trash can out back. He suspected his mom knew something was up by the way she eyed him when he came down the stairs in his older pair of trunks, but she didn’t ask. That was good, because he didn’t know how he would explain it anyway.

They walked to the pool side by side, whereas before Patrick would have run ahead, itching to get in the water.

“You feeling all right?” his mom asked after nudging him with her arm.

“Yeah,” he said. “Great.” He forced a smile that felt phony and looked away.

His mom opened the gate for him to enter. Patrick took a moment and looked around. The same old pool with the same lounge chairs. Nothing seemed amiss, so he went in.

The water looked cool and inviting. The day had warmed up considerably, being the dead middle of summer. Patrick gave the pool a wide berth as they walked around to a pair of chairs in the shade.

“Hey,” his mom said and pointed. “Isn’t that your toy? You must have forgotten it last time.” She turned away to stretch a towel out to lay on. Patrick stared at Shep Stronghold lying face down outside the deep end. Last Patrick remembered, the action figure had been on the bottom of the pool. How did it get out then?

He took tentative steps over to the toy and picked it up. The left flipper was missing, as if something had taken a bite out of it. He carried the toy over to show his mom.

“What happened? You think it got caught in the leaf filter or something?”

Patrick shook his head. “The pool shark did it.”

His mom frowned at him. “Oh, honey, that was just a story I made up. Why don’t you look? I bet it’s in there.” She picked up her book and started reading.

Patrick walked back to the deep end. He stood over the cover of the leaf filter, nervous of what he might find in there. Finally he pried the lid off and set it aside.

Spiraling around inside were leaves and dead June bugs, but it was the triangular shape on the bottom of the plastic cage that caught Patrick’s eye. He reached down into the water and brought the item up to his face.

A shark’s tooth.

Definite proof that there had been a shark in the pool last night. Elation tinged by fear washed over him. He went to hold the tooth up for his mom to see but lowered his hand. She wouldn’t believe it, he thought. She’d say someone put it there as a joke.

After replacing the lid, Patrick pocketed the tooth and sat cross-legged at the lip of the pool. He rested his chin on his hands and gazed down into the water as he pondered what other mysteries life might have in store for him.

He had placed Shep Stronghold next to himself, the figure sitting up as best as it could with its missing foot. Patrick didn’t like the fear that had crept in, the fear that robbed him of one of the great joys in his life. He finally looked up from the water and over at his mom.

“Hey, Mom?”

She hummed a response back.

“You said the pool sharks only come out at night, right?”

“Of course, honey,” she said and turned a page, never raising her eyes from the book. Patrick stood and gave himself some room to run. If his mom had been right about there being pool sharks, she was probably right about it being safe to swim during the day. He held his action figure up.

“Is the mission a go?”

Patrick nodded as if the figure had answered him. He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the tooth. He ran toward the water and yelled, “Cannonball!”

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AUTHOR BIO:

Mark Mitchell graduated from Cal State Long Beach with a degree in Screenwriting. He currently lives in the greater Los Angeles area where he is a member of The Blank Page Writers Club. His short fiction has appeared in Hightower Magazine, Illustrated Worlds, and Canyon Voices Literary Magazine as well as the anthologies Nightmare Fuel: Body Horror (Cloaked Press) and Through the Briar Patch (Hollow Oak Press). Follow him on Instagram @markmitchell.writer.

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WHY WE CHOSE TO PUBLISH “Pool Sharks”:

We love how well the author handles the perspective of an eight-year-old and thrusts the reader into Patrick’s world. That keeps us engaged, but then there’s that mysterious title that initially piqued the reader’s interest.

It’s not until Patrick’s mom mentions the pool sharks coming out at night that we begin to see there’s going to be a lot more to this story. The intrigue is what keeps us reading, and the author does not disappoint. He slowly increases the tension and pulls one surprise after another.

The touch of magic realism coupled with a young boy’s imagination and daring is what makes this story an unexpected and satisfying one.