"Don't you love cellphones!" Dumpling picked up the little contraption. Stan was packing up, and asked whether he and Shine could meet at the public access beach walk at five-thirty. "That's great with us."
"Where are you?" Stan had an idea, but it involved some logistics. "I've got a helmet for Shine in the side-car she'll love the ride, but I wondered whether you and Linda would mind picking something up at your place? Mabelle."
"Well sure we could manage that. Hay, don't instruments need to be kept out of the salt air?"
Stan assured Dumpling her thoughtfulness was appreciated. "You're right of course, but, Mabelle loves a little salt and doesn't get nearly enough of it." Mabelle was the name of Stan's stand-up bass. "She used to play near white sandy beaches every weekend. Now? Not so much." Dumpling was giggling at the imagery of a very happy big 'ole hunk of wood in the arms of that musical botanist.
"I'm sold." She finally said. Stan promised to bring a bag of Roma Tomatoes and half a Watermelon. That would round out a late summer picnic. Linda could only guess at what was going on. She was content to be ignorant, her bare feet wiggling from the hammock in Dumpling backyard. There really was something to leisure time, and something Linda Molinas breathed in. It wasn't too late to flip the metaphoric or literal canoe, go for a swim. Refreshed. Hmm. Being a mother at sixty was gonna require being refreshed for the long haul. She wondered at the longevity of her genes. When Shine was 25 she'd be close to 80. What are the chances?
A big brown spider dangled from the same limb she did. Linda watched the slow fall speed up.
"There's always a chance," answered Spider. Linda M. considered the information her kiss for the day.
"Thank you, I suppose you'd know about chance," Remembering how often she'd see the hardworking Spiders setting up shop in the corners of the bakery when she was no bigger than Shine. A scene and conversation lay beside her in the hammock.
"Spider is Grandmother," her mom told her very early on.
"They're kinda scary looking," Linda was not a fearful little girl, but she wondered about things, like the difference between Spiders and People.
"Ever see your Poppa when he first gets up?" Mrs. M and her beautiful milk clear face and blonde waves wore her humor bright and could take the serious right out of a pickle if she wanted. She made a face to match the grumpiest Pop Molina in the early morning.
"Now THAT is scary darlin'. Spider is protection. Never ever hurt one. And, if by chance she bites you? Know there is something you don't know. Ask her, and if you're good at it you will hear a Spider answer."
Dumpling waved through the window flicking her ten fingers out and back twice. "Twenty minutes." Spider had done what she came to do, said what she was meant to say. Linda looked for Grandmother Spider, and her web. Gone.
Mabelle rode comfortable in the back of the bakery van. The sun was still far from setting, but it was a beautiful early evening. There was sliced Provolone, Black Forest Ham, a bowl of hard-boiled eggs, a loaf of Shepard's Bread and fresh-picked Peaches in the picnic basket, and a quart of vanilla ice cream surrounded with ice.
"Where are you?" Stan had an idea, but it involved some logistics. "I've got a helmet for Shine in the side-car she'll love the ride, but I wondered whether you and Linda would mind picking something up at your place? Mabelle."
"Well sure we could manage that. Hay, don't instruments need to be kept out of the salt air?"
Stan assured Dumpling her thoughtfulness was appreciated. "You're right of course, but, Mabelle loves a little salt and doesn't get nearly enough of it." Mabelle was the name of Stan's stand-up bass. "She used to play near white sandy beaches every weekend. Now? Not so much." Dumpling was giggling at the imagery of a very happy big 'ole hunk of wood in the arms of that musical botanist.
"I'm sold." She finally said. Stan promised to bring a bag of Roma Tomatoes and half a Watermelon. That would round out a late summer picnic. Linda could only guess at what was going on. She was content to be ignorant, her bare feet wiggling from the hammock in Dumpling backyard. There really was something to leisure time, and something Linda Molinas breathed in. It wasn't too late to flip the metaphoric or literal canoe, go for a swim. Refreshed. Hmm. Being a mother at sixty was gonna require being refreshed for the long haul. She wondered at the longevity of her genes. When Shine was 25 she'd be close to 80. What are the chances?
A big brown spider dangled from the same limb she did. Linda watched the slow fall speed up.
"There's always a chance," answered Spider. Linda M. considered the information her kiss for the day.
"Thank you, I suppose you'd know about chance," Remembering how often she'd see the hardworking Spiders setting up shop in the corners of the bakery when she was no bigger than Shine. A scene and conversation lay beside her in the hammock.
"Spider is Grandmother," her mom told her very early on.
"They're kinda scary looking," Linda was not a fearful little girl, but she wondered about things, like the difference between Spiders and People.
"Ever see your Poppa when he first gets up?" Mrs. M and her beautiful milk clear face and blonde waves wore her humor bright and could take the serious right out of a pickle if she wanted. She made a face to match the grumpiest Pop Molina in the early morning.
"Now THAT is scary darlin'. Spider is protection. Never ever hurt one. And, if by chance she bites you? Know there is something you don't know. Ask her, and if you're good at it you will hear a Spider answer."
Dumpling waved through the window flicking her ten fingers out and back twice. "Twenty minutes." Spider had done what she came to do, said what she was meant to say. Linda looked for Grandmother Spider, and her web. Gone.
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