• Hank and Edna sat on two folding chairs in front of the dunes. They only came to the beach at this time of year because it was always empty, save for a few seagulls and the occasional crab. Hank had pulled out the plastic bag from the grocery store and was carefully peeling the paper off of a muffin as Edna looked out at the sea. The tide was high enough now that it lapped over her toes as it came in and sucked the sand from under her feet like a vacuum as it fell away. She fixed her gaze on a gull as it stitched across the waves in search of a meal.
    “Edna, do you want to finish this for me?” Hank asked, holding his half-eaten muffin out to her. “It’s banana nut.”
    “You know I don’t eat nuts anymore. I near cracked a tooth last time.”
    “Oh.” He threw the remainder of the muffin behind him into the long grass on the dunes. “You ate nuts yesterday, though.”
    “No I didn’t. When?”
    “You ate one of those nutty bars when we were at Deborah’s. The peanut ones with the chocolate.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Maybe it was Gertie who had one.”
    “It probably was.”
    She looked back at the ocean. She did not feel like talking to him more than she had to. As she looked out on the water, she saw that there was a dark mound breaking the surface of the shallows where there was nothing before. Fog hung thickly around it. Edna leaned forward in her seat.
    “Hank, look. Look at that over there. What is it?” Hank looked up.
    “Looks like a rock to me.”
    “It can’t be a rock. It wasn’t there two minutes ago. What if it’s a turtle?” She looked again. “It would just be a shame if that was a turtle, all washed up.” She continued to stare at the shape in the water. “I think it’s got to be a turtle. I can see its little head. It looks like that one we saw in Key West when we went to visit Fran. You know… the big one.” Edna stood up and slipped off her shoes. She pulled the hem of her dress up. “I’m going to go help her. I can’t just let an innocent turtle die.”
    “Don’t get your clothes wet,” Hank said. He leaned back in his seat as he watched Edna stumble across the mounds of sand on the way to the waterfront.
    Edna stiffened as the freezing water consumed her feet and ankles and the sharp scent of the salt in the water burned in her nostrils. The water splashed the hem of her dress, leaving dark flecks of wetness wherever it touched and lapped up her knees as she moved. She was closer to the mound now, but the haze around it did not dissipate as she drew nearer. She wondered if she had been wrong about the turtle.
    She bent down to see through the mist. A slick, dark knot of seaweed pushed through the water where her turtle had been. The plants in the knot were matted and swirled into a small hill that had been tangled by the currents. Edna reached out and touched its surface. She stood up slowly and wiped its slime onto her dress.
    “It was just seaweed,” she called to Hank. Her legs sliced through the water as she walked back.
    “I figured it would be,” Hank replied. His voice was faint under the sounds of the ocean. Edna reached her chair and sat back down, stretching to brush off the sand that was caked on to her feet. Hank had gotten another muffin out of the bag and was slowly chewing as he looked at her.
    “You definitely ate nuts yesterday.”