For the next ten minutes, the seals can be seen off the coast, playing and diving together, enjoying their new freedom. We all watch, trying to capture as much as we can with our cameras and phones.
And then they’re gone.
My heart has swollen to the size of a pineapple inside my chest. I inhale deeply, trying to stitch this memory into the folds of my mind. The smell of the ocean, the sting of the wind, the glint of sunlight. There are even tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, and a part of me wants to write it off as irritation from the wind, but then I see that I’m not the only one wiping tears away. In fact, as I glance around, I’m startled to see that Maya is still there and her eyes are shining, too.
She catches my eye and we share a smile, each of us embarrassed to be caught with our emotions on the surface, but also strangely bonded by this special thing we just witnessed.
My attention catches on another form toward the back of the crowd, someone I hadn’t noticed before.
I gasp. It’s the beachcomber. The same woman who found the earring.
She’s loitering far enough away that she isn’t quite a part of our little celebration, but I’m sure she got to see the release. The smile lingering on her wrinkled face says as much.
I swallow. My gaze darts toward Maya, but she’s gone. I glance around and spot her up the beach, heading toward the boardwalk. Her shoulders are hunched and her hands tucked into the front pocket of that oversize sweatshirt.
I return my attention to the beachcomber. She’s wearing the same belt with the hand shovel and her bottle of water and the little pouch to store her findings.
I remind myself of the mean things Maya said about Jude.
I remind myself that this sweet old woman was picking trash off our beach—not because she’d been promised anything in return—just because it’s the right thing to do.
But then I think about the catch in Maya’s throat when she explained that the earrings had been a gift from her grandmother.
The war in my heart is brief, but intense.
The crowd of volunteers start to disperse, many talking about going into town for a cup of coffee at the Java Jive. I squeeze through the crowd and dart after the beachcomber as she, too, starts to walk away.
She’s adjusting a dial on her metal detector when I reach her.
“Excuse me?”
She looks up and I can tell it takes a moment for her to place me, but then she smiles warmly. “Hello, again.”
“Hi. Uh … what did you think of the release?” I’m not sure why I say it, other than it seems like starting with small talk is better than jumping right into what I really want to ask her.
“Glorious,” she says. “I love the center and what they do. You know, in all the years I’ve done this, I’ve found three beached seals and a sea otter. I like knowing we have a place nearby that can come help them.”
“You have? Wow. That’s amazing. You’re like a hero.”
She chuckles. “Just someone who really loves this town and its beaches.”
“It’s pretty great what you do. You know, helping keep it clean. This cleanup was awesome, but … you’ve probably gathered more garbage over the years than all of us combined.”
She shrugs. “It keeps me out of trouble. And I like hunting for buried treasure.” She pats the detector. “You’d be surprised the things you find.”
It’s my opening and I brace myself, trying not to seem too eager. “Speaking of that. There’s this girl, someone I know from school. She lost something here a couple of weeks ago. An earring. A diamond earring.”
The woman’s eyebrows lift.
“It was really precious to her. The earrings belonged to her grandmother, who passed away, and … anyway. You wouldn’t have happened to have found anything like that, would you?”
There’s a second, the briefest second, when I expect her to lie. After all, a real diamond earring just might be the most valuable thing she’s ever found. Finders keepers, right?
But then she takes a step closer to me, almost fervent. “Actually, yes. I did find a diamond earring. Right after I spoke with you. Over there.” She points to the same spot where I saw her find the earring last night.
“Oh! Great,” I say, relieved that she doesn’t seem upset at all to