Opals are bad luck, right?

May they bring such luck on those who most deserve it

I had a dream about my jewelry, the jewelry that got stolen. Most important in the dream was a necklace, an opal, set in an elegant gold filigree pendant, that my Irish grandmother had given me on my 16^th birthday, and that I wore to my senior prom.

I was on a ski lift, going up. At the top, I was given the pendant, along with some of the other items. I was told I couldn’t go down the mountain unless I was wearing the jewelry, especially that pendant.

I don’t ski. I have no idea what the necklace and skiing have to do with anything. But when I woke up from the dream, I was crying.

According to folklore, opals are bad luck, ill-fated gems that bring nothing but grief, except to those who were born in October and therefore have the opal as their birthstone. And woe betide any who should steal an opal – that is an especially powerful form of evil luck.

I put together a list of the items that were stolen, and I was astonished to realize that I had so many items of opal jewelry: necklaces, earrings, stick-pins, and more. Whoever swiped my jewelry chest reaped a mountain of bad luck.

The police rookie (so much of a rookie that he didn’t even have his own business cards, but crossed out the name and badge number on someone else’s and wrote in his own information) who came in response to our call about the burglary didn’t even make a list of the items that were stolen. He talked to us for about 20 minutes and then declared the case “closed,” explaining that we had very little chance of seeing our stuff ever again.

But we’ve been told by a reliable source that if we do some of our own detective work and check out pawnshops in the area, we might well find at least some of what we’ve lost, and then the police will have to re-open the case. So Pat and I will be looking for my opals and everything else. Maybe, just maybe, my opals will be the downfall of these low-lifes. THAT would be poetic justice.