The man leaned over the railing to see if he could spot his phone. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun.

He didn’t see the phone. But he saw two eyes looking up at him from the mud.

“Oh,” he said. “Hey.”

“Hi,” the two eyes said. Well. The mouth below the two eyes said it. Whatever it was down there pushed some muddy hair out of its face to see him better.

“I sort of dropped my phone,” he said.

“Oh.” It sounded like maybe a feminine-type thing. “That sucks.”

“Yeah . . .”

“Let me see if I can find it.” The muddy thing sloshed around a bit, turning up some pieces of concrete and an empty Dasani bottle. “Oh no . . .” It held something up. “Is this your phone?”

“I can’t tell,” the young man said. “What kind is it?”

The mudthing shook the phone in its handthing. “It’s the new kind with the three cameras.”

The man sighed. “Yeah. That’s mine.”

“Sorry.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s my fault. I was distracted.”

“You have to be careful on bridges . . .”

“Yeah, that’s what my mother always tells me.”

The mudthing rose up a bit out of the muck. “Do you want me to throw it up to you?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Maybe I could put it in some rice overnight . . .”

“I’ve heard they sell magic beans . . .”

“I’ve heard that, too.” He held both hands out.

The mudthing tossed his phone up—but not nearly far enough. It fell back into the gunk. “Sorry, let me try again. Webbed fingers, you know.”

The phone flew up into the air again. The man leaned farther out over the railing, his feet lifting off the smooth paving stones. The phone fell through his grasping fingers.

“Sorry!” she called up.

“No, that was me,” he said. “Try again?”

He caught it the third time, and they both laughed out loud. “Got it!” he said. “Thank you!”

“Yeah, sure, happy to help.”

He tried to wipe some of the mud from his phone, deciding he’d better not turn it on just yet.

“You’re lucky the river dried up,” the mudthing said. “You would have lost it for sure in the current.”

“Yeah, no kidding . . .” He looked down at her again. She was still mostly covered in mud. Her face disappeared when she blinked. (Though he supposed her face disappeared when he blinked, too . . . This was more thinking than the man was used to doing on his way to work.) “I guess I’ll get going,” he said. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime,” she said.

“Well, I hope not.”

“Ha ha,” she said. “Seriously.”

He was walking again. He couldn’t see her anymore. “Have a great day!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Watch where you’re walking!” she shouted back.