Crystal Cove was drowsing in the warmth of a summer afternoon. Heat mist danced across the lawns. The lulling drone of insect wings filled the air. The gracious hour had arrived when all of Nature found a quiet spot in the shade and began daydreaming of something refreshingly cool in an ice-filled tumbler.
"This seat taken?" I asked.
"Nope," she said.
A small procession made its way out of the Inn and across the sun-bathed lawn to a spot underneath the big tree. It was led by an aunt carrying a tray of small sandwiches. Following her was another aunt with a small folding table. The third and final aunt carried a tray with a pitcher and several tumblers.
From somewhere far away thunder rolled softly along the horizon. A dark cloud lingered there but it seemed too far away to cause concern.
"What a day," I said. "Seems like a weekend to me."
"Not me," she said.
"Funny how days come with their own unique atmosphere," I said.
"Except for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday," she said. "They all feel the same."
I don't know if you've noticed it, but the attitude of this young geezer seemed to lack the usual sparkle. Lackluster is the way I'd describe it. It troubled me a little. I don't like to see this mood in anyone else but me.
Aunt Cynthia was pouring iced tea into the tumblers and passing them around.
"I hope this rain shower doesn't last too long," said the aunt.
"Oh," I said, "it is raining, isn't it. But it feels like one of those little showers that only last for a minute or two."
Aunt Cynthia nodded and walked to the next table. One or two of the inmates left their seats and walked toward the Inn at a fast clip.
"I've never much liked the way Sunday feels," Lupe said.
"What a coincidence," I said, "neither have I."
"I'd gladly trade all my Sundays, for fewer but better Mondays," she said.
"Hmmm, that's an interesting idea," I said. "I wonder if there's a blog post in that."
"I got a blog post for you," said Lupe. "I rescued a turtle this morning. At least I think I can count it as a rescue."
At that moment the sun seemed to have fallen asleep at the wheel. The sky darkened and Nature seemed to have let her majesty go to her head. Thunder growled overhead, a jagged lightning bolt flashed somewhere near old man Johnson's store, and large raindrops beat down on the magnolia.
The tea-taking crowd left their chairs and raced en masse across the lawn and into the Inn. With only one brief turn of the head to see what all the excitement was about, Lupe and I returned to our conversation. We're on friendly terms with summer afternoon thunderstorms and get bent out of shape with a slight drizzle.
"Good for you," I said, and I was genuinely bucked because this young imp and I have made a thing of helping turtles cross the roads for the last three years. "But what do you mean when you say if you can count it a rescue?"
"Well, it's like this," she said. "I was walking along Waterford Lake and noticed something moving underneath the pines at the edge of the clearing. It was a big turtle with her leg tangled in a vine. I broke the vine and pulled it away from her."
"And then she went on her way," I said. "That's a turtle rescue for sure."
"Well, she didn't go on her way immediately. She retreated into her shell but when I came back 20 minutes later she was gone. But the issue is that she'd only just snagged the vine with her hind leg and would surely have gotten herself free sooner or later without my help."
Her last remark was made without any chirpiness and I realized why her mood lacked the requisite luster.
The storm was at its height now. Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed. Rivulets of rain streamed down the trunk of the magnolia and several of the raindrops made their way through the mass of leaves above our heads and plopped on the ground, on our table, and on our heads.
"Ah, I see," I said. "I understand the question now. Was it truly a rescue or simply an act of kindness?"
"Yeah," she said. And she said it with resignation.
"If you want my opinion," I said.
"Yes, please," she said.
"Rescue," I said with a defining nod of the coconut.
"Really?" she said with a slight improvement in the aperture of her eye.
"Of course," I said. "If you hadn't freed her and allowed her to reach the safety of the lake, she would have experienced much more frustration and anxiety in her failed attempts to move forward. I'm certain that your act of kindness prevented a good deal of stress and saved her many years of therapy."
"Rescue!" she said with a bright smile and offered a high five. I accepted it with a happy heart. It always feels good to do the right thing and lift someone up above the clouds.
The storm was fading now. The thunder was now moving off toward Main Street. Carolina blue was spreading across the sky behind us and there was a hint that the sun was waking and preparing to take its rightful place.