A Brighter Tomorrow: My Journey with Julie

I decide the best way to cheer Julie up is to bring her focus back to the beach cleanup. The litter is a problem we can actually solve, unlike Julie’s troubles with Tracy, which feel bigger and deeper than anything I can fix. I suggest we turn it into a treasure hunt, seeing who can find the coolest piece.

Julie perks up at my suggestion, her energy renewed as we sift through the garbage. In between picking up pop-tops, cigarette butts, and fishing bobbins, we find smooth pebbles, a crab claw, and a few pieces of polished beach glass. Julie finds a piece of periwinkle, and I find a rainbow-colored abalone shell that I tuck into my pocket.

After about an hour, I hear a squeak. I ask Julie what that was, but we just hear silence. Julie turns back to her bulging garbage bag and ties it closed.

I drop my garbage bag and clamber onto a rock. From here, I can see the entire beach, the water sparkling in the sun. I close my eyes and listen hard, but I hear only the lapping of the waves.

Julie calls to me and I return to my garbage bag. Then I hear the noise again. I put my finger to my lips and Julie and I listen. It sounds like a cry or a whimper.

We look around. Julie points toward some rocks at the edge of the water, and we run over. Sure enough, the crying gets louder.

Julie starts to work her way around the rocks, but I hesitate. The wind has picked up and the waves are crashing closer to the shore.

I suggest we get back. The tide might come in. Julie insists someone could be in trouble. We have to see if they need help.

I spot the nearest beach patrol house, where a woman sits scanning the beach with binoculars. I call to Julie to be careful, then scrape my knees joining her as we search frantically between the rocks.

The whimper is right under me now. I squat down and see a jumble of kelp wedged between the rocks. Using a stick, I pull some loose and catch a glimpse of wet fur underneath.

I call Julie over. We edge closer and use our gloved hands to pull away the kelp until we’ve exposed the creature’s head. It’s a sea otter.

I tell her it’s so small. I thought they were bigger. It must be a baby. The creature squeals in the surf and blinks its dark eyes at us, pleading for help.

Julie says the tide is coming in. We have to do something fast. I tell her we can’t leave him. It’s going to take the two of us to untangle the kelp. Otherwise, he could drown.

I remember the beach patrol and jump up, waving both hands in the air. The woman perks up and runs over. I tell her we found a baby sea otter that needs help and ask her to call animal rescue. She waves and runs back to the patrol house.

Meanwhile, Julie and I set to work trying to free the sea otter from the tangle of kelp.

It’s not long before we realize the situation is worse than we thought. As I pull strands of kelp away from the otter’s midsection, I notice a clear band of plastic wrapped around its neck and another plastic band twisted around its legs. I ask Julie what it is and she shakes her head. It’s too strong for us to break. It’ll have to be cut with a knife.

We continue clearing away the kelp and discover the otter is tangled in plastic rings that once carried a six pack of soda cans. Why is the ranger taking so long to get here? Julie says he can suffocate if he starts to struggle. We need to cut the stuff away before it’s too late.