the tooth, again

Last week, I had mentioned that I saw a sperm whale tooth in a flea market on Sixth Avenue; I remarked that for a moment, I had contemplated buying it, and returning it to the sea. I had thought that the idea would fade over time, but it didn't; finally, when today rolled around, I headed back up there to find it. It lay in a case with shell necklaces and other tchotchkes; I stood and waited for the seller to come over. This was all as I had imagined it on the subway; what I hadn't expected was having to haggle over the price of this relic with a smiling man who insisted he couldn't let it go for so little. (For a moment, I found myself thinking of someone who told me how his grandfather had brought an authentic sixteenth-century katana back after World War II- and then pawned it for beer money.) Finally, after a quick trip to a Coinstar, for all the change in my pockets, I made my final offer; he paused, then accepted. Now, the tooth sits in a plastic bag in my breast jacket pocket, a weight reminding me of a duty to fulfill. Tonight, I'll take pictures, as a memento; sometime between now and next Sunday, I'll take the train to Coney Island, and return it to the sea.

For now, I want to head home, and not think about what it feels like to dicker like a fishwife over such an object. I will brush up on my AMA style, for the two interviews I have this week; then, I will sit down to start a Harry Potter tale that's been fermenting in my imagination since Half-Blood Prince. Perhaps I'll pop in Return to Oz; headless witches and wizard's duels to the death are much happier thoughts than looking into the eyes of that smiling man, wanting to see how much he could get from me. Most of all, I will take strength from knowing that I imagined doing something that was right, and did it.

Soon, warrior- soon, you return home.