Magic still exists. In the form of death receptacles.

I was driving Clara and Charlie to camp yesterday morning. They were bickering a bit as we pulled out of the driveway, so to shift their attention away from discord, I said, “Hey guy, let’s look for rainbows today on the way to camp!”

It was a sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky.

Charlie said, “Yeah, right Dad. We’re not going to see any rainbows today. Look at the sky, weirdo.”

Clara concurred.

“Fine,” I said. “Let’s look for penguins instead.”

The two of them proceeded to school me on penguin habitats, the proximity of local zoos, penguin dietary needs, and my own foolishness.

“Okay,” I said. “How about Komodo dragons! Let’s look for one of those!”

Clara laughed and offered a detailed lesson on the Indonesian island of Komodo, where the Komodo dragon lives.

Who knew?

“Have you no magic in your hearts?” I asked. “If you keep your eyes open, you never know what you might see.”

Then it appeared. The thing we we never thought we’d see. At that very moment.

Stopped in front of us at a red light was a truck pulling a small, flatbed trailer. Strapped to that trailer was an enormous stone sarcophagus,. A tomb of sorts, about twice the size of a standard coffin, with pink and blue inlays. Carved into the stone was the last name of the deceased.

“How about a stone sarcophagus?” I said, pointing ahead, barley able to contain my enthusiasm. “A tomb!”

“A what?” Clara asked, then she saw it. Charlie, too.

They couldn’t believe it. They were amazed.

“See?” I said. “You never know what you might see? That stone tomb is going to be buried soon. Maybe today. Never to be seen again. But you got to see it. Today. On the road. Next to a Dunkin Donuts.”

Charlie proceeded to crack jokes about the possibility that the deceased was already in the tomb. Clara laughed. Their bickering long forgotten.

I thanked the universe for its perfect timing.