Fares walked to the edge of the wooden pier. Something golden glinted among the driftwood and shells.
He picked it up. It chimed softly, like a tiny bell. He held it close and listened — there was a faint clicking sound.
Fares followed the clicking sound along the pier boards, past a trash can and a fishing bucket. He reached a low bench.
A scruffy brown dog sat on the bench. Its ears were flat and its tail was tucked. Fares crouched and whistled, but the dog bolted.
The dog ran into the dark space under the pier. Fares crawled in after it. The water sloshed below.
Under the pier, Fares spotted a small orange bird tapping against the wooden planks. Its left wing was crooked.
He reached out slowly, palm open. The bird flapped wildly and landed on a higher beam, too scared to climb down.
Fares spotted a small locked box wedged between two beams. The latch had the same key shape.
His hand shook as he pushed the golden key into the lock. The box clicked open with a loud CREAK.
Inside were folded newspapers and an old towel. Fares lifted the towel carefully and patted the ground.
The dog wagged once, then curled into the towel. The bird hopped down and tucked its head under Fares' sleeve.
The key went dark in his pocket. Fares carried the dog and bird back toward the bright pier boards.
