“Fudgies have taken over the town,” Vi said, as the Woodie wound down the beach road paralleling downtown. “Do you like my new scarf?”
The windows were down on the Woodie, turning the Roadster into a wind tunnel. Lolly’s blond hair stuck out the window at a ninety-degree angle from her head, while the long tie around Vi’s scarf rotated like a helicopter propeller. “It’s very pretty. Did you make that one, too?”
“I did. Just like your Grandma Mary taught me. And just like I’m teaching you.”
The Woodie moaned as it made its way up the giant dune.
“Attagirl,” Vi cooed to her car, patting the dash tenderly. “You got it.”
When they arrived at Scoops Beach, Vi opened the trunk, stuck her arms straight out, and said, “Load me down like a pack mule!” which was Lolly’s cue to load her mother up with towels, beach bags, coolers, and umbrellas, a game they had played forever. As Vi made her way down the boardwalk, however, her pace slowed, and when Lolly caught up to her, she said, “I need a little help today, my dear,” handing her daughter an umbrella and some towels.
“How about here?” Lolly asked. Vi nodded, and Lolly began to carefully set up their spot on the sand as if she were orchestrating a dinner party at the White House.
“We’re at the beach, Lolly. We’re supposed to have fun. It doesn’t need to be perfect.”
Lolly considered her mother’s words, but continued with her routine, anchoring the towels, angling the umbrella just so, continuously knocking the sand from her feet and legs every time she took a step or two.
“Do you need anything, Mommy? Are you too hot?”
“What I need,” Vi said, scooching over on her lounge chair, “is for you to come here.”
Lolly squeezed in next to her mother. She started to say something, but her mother shushed her. Vi watched as the warmth of the sun seemed to relax her daughter, until her breathing became one with the rhythmic tide of the beach, the sounds of happy children screaming in joyous delight carried to her on the wind and then whisked away, as if on a magic carpet.
Lolly watched the shadows dance across the Manitou Islands, the clouds cloaking them in darkness before the sun illuminated their dense forestry and running streams.
“Do you know the legend of the Manitou Islands?” Vi asked her daughter.
Lolly shook her head.
“Well, according to the Chippewa Indians, a mother bear fled across Lake Michigan to escape from a great forest fire in Wisconsin with her two cubs. When the mom finally reached the Michigan shore, she climbed a steep bluff to await her cubs. The cubs were so tired from their long swim that they never reached land. The mother bear waited day after day, but her babies never came. Eventually, she died. The Great Spirit Manitou marked her resting place with the Sleeping Bear Dunes and raised North and South Manitou Islands from the spot where her little cubs perished.”
Vi halted, and she reached for her daughter’s hand. “That is the love I have for you. That is the love I will always have for you. It will last forever. It will never die.”
Lolly’s jaw began to tremble, and a lone tear sprung forth from one of her blue eyes, but Vi said, “And I want your legacy from me to be this: Always wear your charm bracelet and always have fun. Here!” Vi said, grabbing a little box from the side of the aqua beach bag. “I got this as an early birthday gift for you.”
Lolly began to open the gift, tearing at the paper, but her mother stopped her. “Don’t forget the poem,” she urged.
“Mom, I’m getting too old for this.”
“You will never be too old. How about I say it along with you, okay?”
This charm
Is to let you know
That every step along the way,
I have loved you so.
So each time you open up,
A little box from me
Remember that it really all
Began with You and Me.
Lolly smiled and opened the little box, pulling out a silver charm of a kite with a long, dangling tail, the sun basking the charm in a glorious light.
“This is to a life filled with high-flying fun. Promise me—no matter how hard things get—you will always have fun.”
Lolly began to protest, but her mother reached out to touch her, smiled, and said, “Promise me!”
Vi could feel her daughter’s skin flare in goose bumps. She watched her daughter consider her question, look out over Scoops Beach as the wind tousled her hair, and finally nod her head.
“Attagirl!”
Vi winced as she rose out of the lounger, turning her face to hide the pain from her daughter. “Wait here,” she instructed Lolly. “I forgot something. I have to get it from the Woodie.”
Vi imagined that, from a distance, she must look like a ghost to Lolly, through the haze of the sun and the sand. She stopped, took a deep breath to quell the pain, and then ran, faster and faster, tossing something into the air, as if releasing a dove, still running toward Lolly.
A kite! Lolly gasped.
Lolly ran toward her mother, her feet kicking up sand. Together, they began to run in stride, the kite slowly going higher, higher, higher, the faster they ran.
Thwacka-whacka-whacka-whacka!