Shell Hunter

She sells seashells on the sea shore.

The shells she sells are seashells, I'm sure.

And if she sells seashells on the sea shore,

Then I'm sure she sells seashore shells.

Bright twin beams of light pierced through the dark road and she gasped, yelling at the figure huddled in the path of the car. It's too late, she realized as she pursed her lips and jumped, thrusting her arms out over her daughter. Thud. She felt an immense pain before everything went dark. Sirens wailed and voices screamed, but none of that mattered to her. She forced her eyelids open, staring into two chips of emerald. I love you, she mouthed. Her world was swallowed by shadows. Everything went silent but the distant waves, crashing and receding on the fine white sands.

Waves lapped at the sandy shore, frothing white bubbles before pulling back in great ebbs with the tide. The sea glimmered, reflecting the oblique rays cast down by a radiant spring Sun. It was a warm day off the coast of San Diego and the beaches were deserted except for the occasional lounging sea lion, passing the afternoon on thick slates of weathered marble.

The sand glittered a marvelous white, a testament to the relentless beating of the waves. Between the pale sand, pockets of water surrounded by smooth sloping stone teemed with life: crabs of every imaginable color, swirly shells, clams, barnacles, magnificent corals dangling, isopods, sea urchins, the occasional tiny fish unfortunate enough to be trapped in an intertidal pool. The tide was rising, the hungry reach of the water expanding higher over the diverse intertidal stretches. A hermit crab crawled out of the pool, flexing its serrated claw as it scurried onto the white sand. Ahead of it, a small girl was crouched over the waves, beckoning the ocean to reveal its forlorn treasures.

She was dressed from head to toe in deep onyx, her sundress and loose hat billowing in the ocean wind. A salty spray of mist kissed her face, and she looked up at the pure azure sky. The soft rustle of waves retreating drew her attention as she peered down at her glossy reflection. Her gaunt skin was pale and emaciated, accented with soft features that arose from a deeply cosseted childhood. Beneath the tattered hat, silvery-blond hair flowed gracefully down to her shoulders, emanating almost a saint-like aura. She was a child of the sea, peering keenly at bubbling spumes with emerald eyes in pursuit of the ocean's gems.

Brushing a stray lock of silver, she resumed her march across the white sands, leaving a trail of footprints that were soon erased by the ensuing ripples of water. Jutting out of the white floor as the waves peeled back, stunning shells were littered across the shore. She gingerly picked them up, polishing them off one by one before placing them in an auburn wicker basket. Occasionally, she'd stare, mesmerized by the intertidal pockets of life, swaying with the corals before returning defiantly to her task.

By the time the Sun had begun to sink into the water, her basket was overflowing with shells of multiple varieties, gorgeous spirals and swirls that glimmered with a decadent lustre. The sky blushed a fiery red, imbued with hues of pink and orange, mottling the white sands with bleached shades of scattered color. A voice called out over the squawking gulls as plumps sea lions dove into the bay.

"Sal!"

Sally turned her head, her hair forming a silvery arc as her eyes widened in surprise.

"Carapace," she greeted. "What are you doing here?"

The boy walked over with a broad grin, his rusty hair slicked back against his head. "Can't a guy enjoy a beautiful sunset at the beach?" He caught her somber expression and stilled, refusing to meet her gaze as he twiddled his fingers. "I... wanted to make sure you're ok. You know, with everything that happened. It's been a week, you know. You haven't been at school and... " he paused, worry evident in his furrowed brow.