lost and found
Municipal Pool, Wentz County. Ledger kept by the guard on duty. Items held ninety days, then donated or discarded.
June 4 — one pair reading glasses, wire frame, right temple bent. Left on the bleacher by the diving end. Claimed June 5.
June 4 — one child’s flip-flop, pink, size 11. No match.
June 6 — one silver ring, thin, inside of band says 1978. Found in the deep-end drain during the open. Put in the desk drawer.
June 8 — one swim cap, black, strap broken.
June 8 — one paperback, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, cover gone. Read all summer by whoever was on desk.
June 11 — one towel, blue with white stripe, smells like chlorine and cigarettes.
June 12 — one child’s goggles, mirrored, one strap cut. Probably cut on purpose.
June 14 — one hair tie.
June 14 — one hair tie.
June 14 — one hair tie.
June 17 — one pair of men’s sandals, size 12, parked behind the guard chair. No one ever came back for them. We moved them twice and they kept coming back.
June 19 — one set of car keys, Toyota, with a foam keychain from a car wash in Ohio. Claimed June 19, 4:15pm, by a woman who ran all the way from the parking lot.
June 21 — the silver ring is still in the drawer.
June 22 — one swimsuit, child’s, red, tag cut out. Hanging on the drying line out back by lunch. Gone by three.
June 25 — one pair of prescription goggles, very strong. Lenses about minus six. A kid would be swimming blind without these.
June 25 — same pair, claimed an hour later by the same mother who’d been yelling at the lifeguard about them.
June 28 — one men’s watch, face cracked, still ticking. Band is orange silicone.
July 2 — one stuffed frog, small, wet. Hanging on the line. Still there July 3, July 4.
July 5 — the frog, now dry. Drawer.
July 5 — one paperback, The Hobbit, pages 147 to 162 missing, the rest fine.
July 7 — one set of keys, house keys, on a keychain that says WORLD’S OKAYEST DAD. Claimed same day. The man laughed at the keychain and said his daughter gave it to him, he thinks it’s funny.
July 9 — one pair of earbuds, white, one bud missing, the case has sand in it.
July 11 — one pair of goggles, clear lens, kid’s size, name written inside the strap in permanent marker: ISAIAH.
July 11 — Isaiah came back for them before close.
July 14 — one pool noodle, cut into three pieces. Someone tried to use them as a weapon during open swim. Confiscated, then forgotten.
July 15 — one T-shirt, adult small, gray, the kind with a small stain that won’t come out.
July 18 — one diving mask. One snorkel. Separate days, same kid. He keeps coming back. I keep handing them over. His mom calls him “the forgettable one” in front of him.
July 21 — one wedding ring, gold, inside of band engraved. Found on the pavement by the gate. Put in the drawer next to the silver ring. It sat there a week and then a man came in very polite and very quiet and asked if anyone had found a ring and I said yes and he said thank you and did not cry in front of me.
July 23 — one pair of sunglasses, fake Ray-Bans, one lens out.
July 25 — one hair tie.
July 28 — one book of crossword puzzles, half finished, answers in pencil. Mostly right.
August 2 — one pair of flip-flops, adult women’s, size 8, blue, one strap snapped. Claimed August 2 by a woman who’d walked home barefoot.
August 4 — one pair of swim trunks, adult, folded, with a twenty-dollar bill in the pocket. The bill was in the drawer for thirty days and then used to buy sunscreen for the kids’ lessons.
August 8 — the silver ring is claimed. A woman in her sixties, who said her sister had died in March, and the ring had been lent to her in April, and she’d been coming to this pool on the chance. She cried a little in the lobby. I was not supposed to give it to her without ID but I did.
August 11 — one pair of goggles, black, adult.
August 14 — one towel, white with a hotel monogram from a city six hundred miles away.
August 17 — one flip-flop, pink, size 11. Added to the June 4 flip-flop. Still no match.
August 20 — one set of keys, no claim.
August 22 — one child’s swimsuit, boy’s, with the name ISAIAH written inside in permanent marker. No one came for it.
August 28 — last day of the season. Drawer contents: one set of keys, one pair of earbuds, one gray T-shirt, one watch with cracked face, one pool noodle in three pieces, one pair of pink flip-flops that do not match each other, one stuffed frog, one swimsuit with ISAIAH on the tag, one copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn with no cover, one crossword book half done. Also eleven hair ties.
September 3 — closed for the season. Drawer cleared. The frog went home with the guard.