The boy runs in the front door
blood running down his chin
A big gap and lots of blood
where his large front tooth belonged

He has slipped while balancing
along the bulkhead at the beach
Fallen a good ways and whacked his chin
on the firm beach sand

The mother screams in panic for the father
Go get his tooth! the father orders the sister
And meet me at Joe Pete’s

Brother and sister run to spot where he fell
Their eyes quickly comb sand till they fix upon
the white tooth glistening like a pearl
They rush the treasure to the gas station
where the father carefully wraps it
in wet paper towel

Two dollar’s worth of gas in their
beat-up Plymouth
and they speed the twenty-seven miles
to Dr. Rock in Wellfleet

The dentist shakes his head
It’s too clean a break. This will never work
The father is firm
You put the two together
I’ll make it work
Once back home
he settles his son in bed
wedges pillows around his head
For next few days he feeds him through a straw
Applies glue to the wires

A week later, Dr. Rock is amazed
I’d have made dental history
if only I’d taken x-rays

Fifty years later
when the brother smiles at his sister
or when she’s looking for something she’s lost
she remembers how their old man
never said See if you can find it…
or Go look for it…
Go get it! he said

What a gift she thinks, many times over.