Plastic Gold

The dawn opened one eye and then the other, burning through layers of fog, while coloring the pale gray sky a lively shade of blue. Cecilia Jordan sat on a rock overlooking Rodeo Beach, drinking in the morning light, dreaming of extending her vacation, dreading the factory job waiting for her back in Ohio. She didn't want to believe this was her last day.

Cecilia had scrimped and saved the past five years for one week of bliss in Northern California. Even as a child, she had wanted to visit this area. While her friends read fictional tales of imaginary places, Cecilia had scoured the library for books about John Muir, relishing the photographs of Ansel Adams, planning to one day publish a book filled with her own work.

“No!” She said, dropping the trusty old 35 MM Yashica her father had given her many years before. Fortunately, the strap was still wrapped around her shoulder, which kept the camera from falling over the side of the rock cliff.

A lonely seagull ceased fly-by practice to stand quietly on a rock jutting out of the water below. Cecilia removed the wide angle lens she had used to capture the morning light, added a telephoto lens, and pointed the camera toward the stately gull. He posed like a professional, turning his head one way and then the other, as if allowing her to only shoot what he considered to be his good side. Another gull stopped by for a visit, they chatted for a while, and then took off toward San Francisco. Cecilia fancied they were on their way to breakfast with the tourists on Fisherman’s Wharf.

Looking for her next subject, Cecilia searched through the lens, scanning the sand for early morning wildlife, coming up empty, until she saw a reflection on the beach. Zooming in closer, the object appeared to be a gold prong sticking out of the sand. Naturally curious, she headed for the path to the lagoon below. She was going treasure hunting.

Sand sifted inside the walking shoes she had put on this morning, so she kicked them off. Cecilia searched for the object she had seen from above, walking back and forth where she thought it should be. Not having any success, she stopped and looked up to where she had been sitting on the rocks and back down, drawing a mental line to the beach. It was then her bare feet hit pay dirt.

Using her hands to scoop away the sand, Cecilia unearthed the object. She turned it around and around in her hands, laughing out loud. Her treasure was nothing more than a plastic crown, painted gold, encrusted with glass jewels. Making it even less valuable, yet more interesting, the surf had chipped away large sections of gold paint.

Cecilia propped the crown on top of the rock Mr. Seagull had abandoned, dropped it on the sand, stuck it in the edge of the water, all the while, snapping picture after picture until she had used up four rolls of film. The silly old crown wasn’t valuable, but it made an interesting subject.

Two years had passed since Cecilia’s trip to Marin Headlands, California. Her life had changed drastically since then. She no longer lived in Ohio. She had quit her job and moved to New York.

Walking down a street in Tribeca, Cecilia paused in front of an art gallery. A framed photograph of Rodeo Beach was prominently displayed in the window. The subject was a chipped crown, painted gold, covered in brightly colored glass jewels. The crown was sitting majestically atop a rock in the edge of the water. Sea spray gave the picture an ethereal quality. A mirror image of the photograph graced the cover of a coffee table book propped against a stack of like volumes. The book was titled, Plastic Gold by Cecilia Jordan. Cecilia had discovered her treasure after all.

Story ID:	1780
Written by:	Betty (BJ) Roan (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Fiction
Location:	San Francisco CA USA
Year:	2007