My husband and I are lucky enough to have become friends with, through some of our theatrical adventures, a wonderful family. They would invite us over to spend time as normal people. In a real house with a real family eating real and very good food.
Twice, we were lucky enough to be able to go with them on their fourth of July trip to the beach. We would go play in the sand and watch the fireworks with the kids. It was brilliant! The second time we took our beach pilgrimage, two other people from our theatre company became a part of the adventure. There were all sorts of problems with getting lost and being stuck in traffic, so by the time the last member of our little group of theatrical tag-a-longs had arrived, the family was already in bed. To celebrate our escape from the theatre and all things sequins, we decided to take a nighttime walk on the beach.
Before we had walked for more than five minutes, I found the strangest looking fish just lying in the sand. I asked one of my friends what he thought it was. He looked at it and said it was a baby shark. As we were staring at it, we noticed the poor thing was moving! The baby shark was alive! So my friend picked it up and took it to the water. He lowered the poor little baby shark in, and within seconds, the little guy had perked up enough to swim away.
It was a once in a lifetime experience. Until we had walked for about three more minutes. Then we found another baby shark in the sand. A different friend picked that one up and carried him to the water. As soon as his little gills hit the frothy good stuff, that little guy was off. What were the odds? Two shark rescues in one night!
Then we walked for a little longer and found another baby shark thrashing on the beach. It took a little coaxing, but finally, I was convinced to pick it up and take it to the water. As soon as my shark sensed water he leaped from my hands and swam away.
Three of the four of us had taken part in the great shark rescue, now we just needed to find a shark for my husband. And there, lying on the beach was another shark pup. And it was dead. My husband pretended not to be disappointed. He said that maybe he could find a horseshoe crab the next day, since he really thought that horseshoe crabs were cooler anyway. We started to walk back to the beach house, keeping our eyes open for something cool for my husband to save. Just before we had to leave the beach to get back to the road, we spotted something digging its way up in the sand. It was the biggest horseshoe crab any of us had ever seen! We watched the big ole’ dude for a while, letting him go about his nightly business. And when he disappeared back into the sand, we all went back to the house.
It was one of those perfect nights when the universe gives you exactly what you need. I just hope that none of the sharks we saved were of the people eating variety.