horseshoe

i lost the horseshoe yesterday– somehow. i didn’t move it, but somehow it’s gone, and so i think she’s finally gone, or at least she has left me. i go to tell ma,

“ma, the horseshoe disappeared,”

and she says nothing as she turns to look at me, and i’m not surprised, but i see how lost she feels in her eyes, and i can’t kick the thought that she’ll leave me soon, too.

i walk back to the stables to look around some more.

there is nothing, and i go to lay in bed for a while longer. what is left of my lady luck, now?

i take a walk on the beach with a friend, two days after i lose the horseshoe, and he tries to talk to me about the weather and the history of this beach. i only tune in when he starts to talk about the ocean and the sand.

“morro bay is something beautiful. it’s not untouched, but it feels like it– somehow,”

i disagree, but say nothing and just nod. nothing feels untouched anymore. we make our mark everywhere, for better or worse.

we walk toward the tidepools, and i smile for the first time in a while at the little anemones and crabs and mussels and sea stars.

i can feel tomer’s eyes on me as i marvel at them, which makes me wonder what he’s thinking, but i just let it be and enjoy the creatures. what he’s thinking doesn’t matter right now. little sea-beings are alive.

he has a meeting at 2, so we walk back across the beach, silent but less tense than before, and he spots something on the sand, in the distance.

“dude, what is that?”

i know i need to walk to it, and so i do, and so i find a horseshoe crab. I’m a little bit taken aback– it feels too direct. the universe isn’t this direct.

he crawls slowly toward me, and i can’t even feel freaked out about it. i put my hand out and pet his shell softly, feeling small ridges here and there. the shell is mostly dry, but not fully.

i can’t help but put my hand-face up, letting him crawl on and feeling around the underbelly of his shell– the crab inside, and every ribbed-feeling leg and gil.

for a moment, i contemplate taking him home, but she is no longer mine, and it is time to let go. neither the horseshoe nor the horseshoe crab are what i need.

he looks shocked and almost afraid when i turn back to him. we walk to his car and he drives me home. when i wave at him from my front porch, he looks worried, but waves back after a moment.

there’s a magnolia on my table when i get home. i pick the flower up, wondering where the fuck a magnolia flower came from. i take it to ma.

“ma, did you put this here? where did you get a magnolia flower?”

she looks at me, and she smiles for the first time in a while.

“it’s beautiful.”

she doesn’t answer the question, but she does answer another one.

i buy a young magnolia tree at home depot and plant it in the front yard on a wednesday, and i push my ma’s chair to it. it’s not quite big enough to sit under yet, so we sit down next to it.

i sit at her feet and rest my head against her knees, and she closes her eyes and smiles again. oh, lady luck.