Something special

Cade motions

with a nod

to follow him.

He’s holding the pole,

and I’m the

fish on the line.

Just how far

will he pull me

in?

Around the corner

only a few kids

are at the

tidal pool touch tank.

My heart’s racing,

but not from what’s

in the tank.

With names like

pencil sea urchin,

scarlet hermit crab,

and chocolate chip sea star,

the creatures

all sound friendly.

I reach into the cold water.

The back of a starfish

feels like wet sandpaper

against my fingertips.

Cade pets it too, his

fingers almost

touching

mine.

“When I was little,” he says,

“I wanted to take them home.

Turn my bathtub into a touch pool.”

It makes me smile because

I was the same way.

Sea stars

are

m*a*g*i*c*a*l.

We wish on stars,

millions of miles away, and

yet here we can touch them.

I’ve never wished

on a sea star before,

but I want to try it.

I hold my breath and make a wish.

As he gives the

starfish a final pet,

his fingers graze mine.

Just barely.

But they do.

And the way I feel

when it happens,

I know I made

the right wish.

Please don’t let me go quite yet.

Ah, to be a snail

Next to me,

a girl tugs on my jacket.

Her eyes round as sand dollars,

she asks me, “Why is that shell moving?”

She points to the water where

a shell appears to slide across the tank

by an invisible force.

“That’s a hermit crab.

There’s a crab underneath the shell.

He carries it with him wherever he goes.”

She smiles with relief.

“A shell for a home? Lucky!”

I think about that.

A shell,

all his own,

no one arguing,

you belong here

or there, with us

or with them.

Yeah.

I’d have to agree.

Pretty damn lucky.

Secrets

“No school today?” the volunteer asks

from the other side of the display.

I jump.

I want to tell her

school is the least

of my worries.

But I don’t respond.

And neither does Cade.

Sometimes you just don’t want

to explain yourself.

She’s curious

the way a nosy neighbor

is curious,

bringing cookies over,

asking questions,

trying to get the dirt.

Well, I’m not sharing.

And apparently

Cade isn’t either.

He turns

and walks

away.

I follow,

my resolve

to spend the day alone

softer than I originally

thought.

A keen observation

Outside

we watch

as sea otters

swim and play

in their small

aquarium world.

One otter

paddles around

on his back,

spinning a blue ball

on his tummy.

I could watch them

for hours.

Because they get it.

They get that

life is short and

you should just

forget the crap

and have fun.

Another otter

comes to play

and the ball

is batted away.

Around and around

they twirl through

the water together,

like little boys wrestling.

“That’s the way to live, huh?” Cade says.

I guess he gets it too.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-14