My family's secret to making big money was the river right in front of our door. Whenever tourists from out of town came to play, my dad would pretend to drown. When a kind Samaritan jumped in to save him, he'd drown them instead. Then, he’d call my uncle to "recover" the body. They’d tie the corpse to the bow of their boat and demand a hefty "recovery fee" from the victim's family. It was the perfect crime, and the profits were substantial. Until one day, the body my uncle pulled up was my dad’s. Just like every person my dad had drowned, his death was ruled an accident. My mom was inconsolable with grief, but my uncle and the others looked strange. Later, my uncle told me something was wrong. After my dad was already dead, my uncle received a text message from him. 1 After my dad's funeral, Grandpa gathered all the men in the family. That included my uncle, my two older cousins, and me. Uncle started by laying out the situation— The police estimated Dad's time of death around 7 or 8 PM. But Uncle didn't receive the text message from Dad until after midnight. That text was the reason Uncle took my cousins out on the boat to retrieve a body. Sure enough, he pulled one up. He just never expected it to be Dad. Dad definitely didn't just drown. It had to be murder. He was a fish in water; he could drag a grown man under and slip away without breaking a sweat. He’d even go home, change clothes, and return to the shore to fake CPR once a crowd gathered. So the question was: who killed him? "It shouldn't be an outsider. Dad, look at this text from the youngest," Uncle said, handing his lit phone to Grandpa. My cousins and I leaned in. The message read: "A little bird fell in the water." The sender was my dad. The timestamp was the night of his death. The problem was, this sentence was our code. It meant someone had drowned, and the body was ready for pickup. Uncle asked rhetorically, "Who else but family knows this code?" Grandpa frowned, glancing at us three boys. We looked at each other, bewildered. That was my own father, my cousins' uncle. How could we do something like that? Even if we were heartless, what possible motive would we have? Grandpa realized it was impossible too, so he snapped at Uncle: "What are you saying? Don't spout nonsense!" Uncle quickly explained: "No, I'm not saying the boys did it... I mean, did anyone leak our code?" As soon as the words left his mouth, my eldest cousin, Big Trev, shuddered violently next to me. 2 Uncle saw it too. He exploded in rage, roaring: "You little sh*t! Speak! Was it you?" Big Trev turned pale, stammering: "Dad, I... I didn't mean to, I..." Uncle jumped up, raising his hand to smack him. My second cousin, Lil' Trev, and I scrambled out of the way. Luckily, Grandpa stopped Uncle in time, shouting: "Stop it! What good will beating him do? You brute!" He beckoned to Big Trev. "Come here, son. Tell Grandpa... who did you tell?" Big Trev trembled as he approached Grandpa. "It... it was my buddy... Old Zhu from the village entrance..." He started sobbing. "I didn't mean to! We were drinking, and it just... slipped out..." Uncle was stomping in fury. Grandpa sighed, trying to calm the room. "What's done is done. We need to figure out what happened..." With Grandpa speaking, Uncle had to settle down. Grandpa looked at me pointedly. I knew my role. "If Old Zhu did it, I'll go chop his whole family up." It was my dad, after all. Even though we had no real affection for each other. Growing up watching people die in front of me desensitized me. Death was just a Tuesday. Grandpa frowned again, muttering to himself: "But... Old Zhu doesn't have any beef with our family..." He turned to Uncle. "Eldest, go find Old Zhu's father tomorrow. I'll have a chat, test the waters... see if it's a personal grudge against the youngest... or if he's targeting all of us..." But Uncle didn't respond. The man who was just raging stood frozen, staring blankly at his phone. Grandpa snapped, "What are you looking at? Did you hear me?" Uncle jolted, frantically turning the screen to Grandpa. "No, Dad, look at this!" On the screen was a new text message: "A little bird fell in the water." Silence fell over the room. Even Grandpa went quiet. 3 Big Trev broke the silence first. "That number... that number looks like Old Zhu's!" He pulled out his own phone, checked for a few seconds, and confirmed: "It is! That's his number!" Grandpa's frown deepened. Uncle hesitated, then asked carefully: "Dad... should we take the boat out?" Grandpa thought for a long while before instructing: "Go. But be careful... no matter whose body you find, or if you find nothing... keep quiet. Do not call the police. Come back and we'll discuss." Uncle nodded vigorously. He signaled us three to get the boat ready. Recovering bodies takes skill. The river isn't a stagnant pond; bodies move. But we were pros. We knew the spots downstream where bodies got stuck. There was a cluster of jagged rocks that acted like a net. The banks there were thick with thorny brush, inaccessible by land. You had to take a boat. We knew the route by heart. Soon, we arrived. We killed the engine to avoid hitting the rocks. It was time for manual labor. Big Trev and Lil' Trev tied safety ropes around their waists, ready to dive and check the rocks. I looked at the pitch-black water. The spotlight only illuminated a small patch. Fear crept into my gut. I couldn't help but suggest: "Uncle, I'm not good at this part... my swimming isn't great... can I stay on the boat and work the winch?" Uncle sensed my fear and waved his hand. "Fine, you stay. Your cousins know the drill... but you really need to work on your swimming... you have to take over your dad's business one day..." I let out a breath. Uncle didn't go in either. My cousins put on headlamps and dove in confidently. Bodies don't float immediately. If they were caught in the rocks, they'd likely be underwater. Sure enough, a light signaled from the surface. Uncle steered the boat closer. It was Big Trev. He yelled: "Found it! Drop the rope!" Uncle threw down the winch cable. Big Trev dove back down. Soon, the rope was secured. Uncle cranked the winch. The body slowly dragged toward the boat, rising until it hit the bow... Big Trev shone his light on the face and shouted: "Holy sh*t! It really is Old Zhu!" Uncle locked the winch but frowned. He looked around, then shouted at Big Trev, who was still in the water: "Where's your brother?" I realized it then— Lil' Trev hadn't come up yet. Big Trev froze. "Pull the safety rope! Fast!" 4 When we pulled Lil' Trev up, he was completely unconscious. If Uncle hadn't reacted fast, he would've drowned. On deck, Lil' Trev coughed violently. Uncle cleared the mud and weeds from his mouth and nose. He tilted Lil' Trev's head back to open the airway. After vomiting a gallon of river water, Lil' Trev finally gasped for air. But he was delirious. We rushed him home. My aunt was shocked and immediately started caring for him. I didn't dare tell my mom; she was still grieving. Grandpa found it unbelievable. Lil' Trev was a better swimmer than Big Trev. He'd dived that spot a hundred times. How could he drown? Lil' Trev remained groggy but seemed out of danger. With Auntie watching him, Grandpa ordered us to dispose of Old Zhu's body. "Your dad just died two days ago. If Old Zhu turns up dead too... the cops will get suspicious. Bury him... quick..." Uncle, Big Trev, and I found a spot and buried Old Zhu overnight. When we got back, Lil' Trev had recovered significantly. He could open his eyes and speak. Grandpa gathered us to hear what happened. At the mention of it, terror flooded Lil' Trev's face. He started shaking. His trembling lips managed only a few words: "Head... a human head! Eyes... eyes glowing..."
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