On the floor was a spaghetti pot sitting atop a flattened-out trash bag. Inside the spaghetti pot was a T-shirt with something familiar on it… a rainbow handprint. I reached down and picked it out of the cold gray water. GALER STREET SCHOOL. “Dad,” I cried. “Daddy!” I ran back down the hall to the wall of windows. Both Zodiacs were zooming away from Palmer Station, toward our ship. Dad was in one of them. Then, at my back, “You little rotter.”
