When they shake their heads, I wave them over to me. “Just follow me toward those rocks surrounding Haystack.”
When we reach the low tides, I wave everyone close. “Please do not touch the animals, and no one is allowed to take home any live souvenirs.” I wink at them. “But there are plenty of shops around town that sell seashells and other gifts. My mom also has a gift shop here. Sorry, I had to plug in that ad,” I chuckle, and they laugh in response.
I wave my palm over the large rock, and they circle around it. “As you can see, this rock is covered in anemones mingled with a fewbarnacles. If you look inside some of the barnacles, you’ll find some shellfish.”
The crowd gathers closely, inspecting the rock, looking for critters.
“I heard the green anemones can live a long time,” one of the older kids, a girl of about eleven, says.
“Yes! They can get up to a hundred years old.” Everyone ‘awws’ as they look closely at the little animals. “These particular ones are about forty to fifty years old.
“Wow,” someone says.
“Can someone tell me whether they’re herbivores or carnivores?”
“Carnivores!” a child yells.
“Yes! See those small tentacles?” Everyone moves in even closer to look at what I’m pointing at. “They’re equipped with nematocysts, which sting. They have barbs filled with toxins to paralyze and capture any prey that’s unlucky enough to get too close. But thick-horned nudibranchs, which are a type of sea slug, are the predators of anemones. They’re hard to find, but when you see them, you’ll know instantly what they are by the bright red spikes on their backs. They use the nematocyst cells from the anemones on their backs for defense. Pretty cool, huh?”
I squat low. “On the same rock, you have starfish. There are tons of them, just hanging out closer to the water, and they look like they’re hugging each other. See how beautiful they are in orange and purple? On one rock, you can find barnacles, anemones, mussels, starfish, crabs, and more, all living together, creating an ecological balance of survival. And, interestingly enough, each rock is different, like each one has its own unique ecology. For example, some rocks are simply covered in mussels. Any harm that comes to one animal can harm the others.”
After I show them all the animals I could find, they ask me lots of questions, and the kids seem entertained and excited. It’s been fun and nice to think about nothing but animals and nature.
The water’s starting to rise, so it’s time to call it quits.
It’s been an amazing morning, and I hope I kept everyone interested. Maybe one day those kids will look back and tell their own children about what they learned about sea life.
I sit at the picnic table, overlooking the beach and rocks below, enjoying the warm sun on my skin. The tour through the park was fun, too. We ended it by making leaf prints in clay from the leaves they gathered along the trail, and could take home as souvenirs.
Now it’s quiet except for the breeze, the sounds of the ocean below, and seagulls flying around. I’m so focused on how well the day went that I don’t hear someone approaching until they sit down next to me.
My heart jolts for a minute, my brain trying to register that I’m seeing Mike.
“Hey,” I say. There’s a slight flutter in my chest.
He smiles gently and slides a white paper bag over to me. “Dinner.”
“You brought me dinner?”
“I broughtusdinner. I figured you could eat. You’ve lost some weight, and I haven’t seen you eat a damn piece of candy since you’ve been back.”
I say nothing to that. I can’t, because he’s right, but I’m not ready.
Mike reaches into his worn denim jacket and drops aZiplocbag filled with Fireballs in front of me. “Got those at the Kaleidoscope Candies shop.”
I used to live in that store as a kid. I run my hand over the baggy, hit with a memory of Geoff. And there it is: the first sign I missed. My eyes burn, threatening to tear up. “God, why do you eat those disgustingthings all the time? They’re shit for you, and I hate the smell. You’re not a kid anymore, Denny.” That was about two months before I caught him cheating. Looking back, his words sound cruel in my head, but at the time, I felt childish, so I threw them all away.
Instead of opening the bag and pulling out a cinnamon ball, I say, “Thanks. What’s for dinner?”
Mike frowns. I know it’s directed at me for not eating the candy, but I say nothing. Then his mood shifts, and he smiles knowingly as he opens the bag and pulls out two cardboard containers and two soup containers. “Fish and chips, and some clam chowder. I got it over at Maggie’s Seafood.”
My favorite place.
“God, that’s so nice. But it’s expensive.”
Mike shrugs. “It’s not like I’m doing this every night. I just thought you’d like something nice and hearty after your first day at your dream job.”
I smile at him, loving how his long bangs blow into his face from the breeze. He swipes them away in annoyance, but he never cuts his hair short. I want to reach out and tuck the strands behind his ears, but I don’t dare… for him and myself. It’s too intimate. And it’s a reminder he’ll never want me like that.
