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Behind the barred doors of the crates, I can see the harbor seals perking up, looking curiously out at the ocean. There’s a near-overwhelming sense of anticipation.

The doors are opened.

Three of the four seals bolt from the crates as if they’re in the Kentucky Derby. They belly flop their way down the shore, clustered together, theirflippers smacking the sand. They dive face-first into the surf and within seconds they’ve disappeared beneath the waves.

The fourth harbor seal, Chip, is more hesitant. He takes his time poking his head out of the crate, taking in his surroundings. He inspects the crowd and shyly, uncertainly, plods out of the crate. And then he just sits there, looking around as if confused. Rosa and Quint have to get a couple of boards from the van and use them to nudge Chip toward the water, like one would herd a difficult pig toward its pen.

Finally, Chip seems to get the idea and takes off doing the inchworm down the beach. One of the other seals pops its head up from the water, as if he’d been waiting for his friend to join them.

Chip splashes into the ocean.

The crowd erupts with cheers.

For the next ten minutes, the seals can be seen off the coast, playing and diving together, enjoying their new freedom. We all watch, trying to capture as much as we can with our cameras and phones.

And then they’re gone.

My heart has swollen to the size of a pineapple inside my chest. I inhale deeply, trying to stitch this memory into the folds of my mind. The smell of the ocean, the sting of the wind, the glint of sunlight. There are even tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, and a part of me wants to write it off as irritation from the wind, but then I see that I’m not the only one wiping tears away. In fact, as I glance around, I’m startled to see that Maya is still there and her eyes are shining, too.

She catches my eye and we share a smile, each of us embarrassed to be caught with our emotions on the surface, but also strangely bonded by this special thing we just witnessed.

My attention catches on another form toward the back of the crowd, someone I hadn’t noticed before.

I gasp. It’s the beachcomber. The same woman who found the earring.

She’s loitering far enough away that she isn’t quite a part of our little celebration, but I’m sure she got to see the release. The smile lingering on her wrinkled face says as much.

I swallow. My gaze darts toward Maya, but she’s gone. I glance around and spot her up the beach, heading toward the boardwalk. Her shoulders are hunched and her hands tucked into the front pocket of that oversize sweatshirt.

I return my attention to the beachcomber. She’s wearing the same belt with the hand shovel and her bottle of water and the little pouch to store her findings.

I remind myself of the mean things Maya said about Jude.

I remind myself that this sweet old woman was picking trash off our beach—not because she’d been promised anything in return—just because it’s the right thing to do.

But then I think about the catch in Maya’s throat when she explained that the earrings had been a gift from her grandmother.

The war in my heart is brief, but intense.

The crowd of volunteers start to disperse, many talking about going into town for a cup of coffee at the Java Jive. I squeeze through the crowd and dart after the beachcomber as she, too, starts to walk away.

She’s adjusting a dial on her metal detector when I reach her.

“Excuse me?”

She looks up and I can tell it takes a moment for her to place me, but then she smiles warmly. “Hello, again.”

“Hi. Uh… what did you think of the release?” I’m not sure why I say it, other than it seems like starting with small talk is better than jumping right into what I really want to ask her.

“Glorious,” she says. “I love the center and what they do. You know, in all the years I’ve done this, I’ve found three beached seals and a sea otter. I like knowing we have a place nearby that can come help them.”

“You have? Wow. That’s amazing. You’re like a hero.”

She chuckles. “Just someone who really loves this town and its beaches.”

“It’s pretty great what you do. You know, helping keep it clean. This cleanup was awesome, but… you’ve probably gathered more garbage over the years than all of us combined.”

She shrugs. “It keeps me out of trouble. And I like hunting for buried treasure.” She pats the detector. “You’d be surprised the things you find.”