Like her parents, when she was able, Darla loved spending the first part of the morning by the water. When visiting Mammie and Poppy, it was on one of the wooden Adirondack chairs, with coffee in hand, taking in the view and smells of the lake.
At the last minute, she decided to make the quick journey to Clear Lake Michigan, figuring it would be good for her and Danny. He was off, plus she was done with her schooling until next semester and her aerobics class was finished for the summer as well. She thought, why not get the vacation started right away, visit the lake and then back to Chicago late tomorrow before flying to Tucson to meet up with Mom and Dad and hang at the ocean at Rocky Point. She would make any excuse to visit the water.
She loved the water so much that when she graduated from University of Illinois in Computer Science, she was going to get a job in California or Florida or any place she could be by water all the time and be warm. Like her mom, she hated the cold. Michigan was beautiful during the summer, but it sucked during the winter, and so did Chicago.
The sound of an older throaty engine echoed on the lake, then grew louder as the old girl announced its approach with pride. A classic Woody promenaded by, with its occupants happily waving at Darla. She didn’t recognize them.
The community surrounding Clear Lake was a close one, so it was not surprising that every third or fourth boat or jet skier waved at Darla. Most remembered Darla, her sister, and brother from her parents bringing her here over the years. Just like her parents, everyone seemed to know her grandparents. That meant lots of people would be coming by to visit, even during her short stay. Darla never minded. In fact, she thought it was pretty cool that so many people cared about her and her family.
Another engine sounded. This one was testosterone-filled, its pistons pumping more rapidly. Within a couple seconds, it floated into view. This time, its driver was someone she recognized. It was Steve-Something. Cute, she thought to herself, as Steve Something drove by waving. She couldn’t help herself. Grabbing her Droid phone, she surreptitiously snapped a photo of him and his boat with her right hand, while waving with her left. For just one moment, her eyes locked into his, her heart fluttered, and then Steve passed out of sight. She opened her mail app, started a new email, selected Sally’s email address from her contacts and started typing out her message.
OMG, I just saw Steve-I-Can’t-Remember-His-Name… You remember him, my knight in shining armor who saved me many summers ago. I also don’t remember him being that cute. Of course, we’ve both grown up since then.
Darla added the picture to her email.
He just boated past me in a…
She squinted at the picture, trying to remember the model. Holding her thumb on the picture, an app popped up with choices. She chose Google Googles and then Search. About a second later, a search result page appeared with an exact match, a Cigarette 39 Top Gun. Returning to her email, she pressed her forefinger to the last letter of her email and selected paste.
…Cigarette 39 Top Gun. Not sure which was hotter. Wish you were here. See you in a few days.
She pressed the Send button and a swoosh sound announced its sent status.
“Can I join you?” Her grandpa announced, still wearing his pajamas, but looking stylish in them.
“Sure. Good morning, Poppy.” She pushed up from the chair, making a smoochie-face and accepting his kiss on her cheek.
“Was that Steve Parkington who passed by in the boat?” He asked, taking the chair next to Darla.
“Parkington. I forgot his last name. I don’t remember him being that good looking. I hope we’ll get to see him while I’m here.”
“You will tonight,” Fred King grinned at granting his granddaughter’s wish. “Steve and his parents, John and Uta, will be here. They’re all coming over for tonight’s barbeque.”
“Really? Awesome. I’m glad I brought a proper swimsuit ensemble with me. I remember Steve, of course, but I don’t remember his parents,” she declared, trying to take her Poppy’s knowing looks off the subject and taking the last sip of her coffee.
“You might recall they were over two summers ago when you were here, although Steve was probably in school at UM then. He has since graduated and runs his own company full time. John & Uta live here, but work in Detroit. She is a manager at the large power plant there and John owns some sort of computer company that has something to do with sharing pictures on the Internet, I think?”
Oh yeah… Picshare. I love that app on my phone, she thought, really glad she made the trip.
“Your old friend Stacy Jenkins is coming over too.” You ought to talk to her about sharing a ride with you to O’Hare tomorrow night. I think she’s flying out around the same time as you.
“I haven’t seen Stace in a while. I don’t know if we will be able to share a ride, unless she can get one back, because Danny has to get to school when we get back after the holiday. But maybe we can at least caravan and share a beer at O’Hare. This trip is getting better and better.”
“Oh and there’s a surprise,” he said with a smile, letting the suspense build, until Dar was practically bouncing of the chair, “Tonight is Clear Lake’s fireworks show.”
“Wow. Awesome, I love fireworks,” she said gleefully, clapping her hands.
“I know.” He couldn’t wait to tell her this when he heard she was coming to visit them, knowing how much as a kid she loved oohing and ahhing the fireworks displays on the fourth.
“Speaking of fireworks,” she furrowed her brow, “did you see the funny colored lights last night? I thought maybe it was fireworks, cause my bedroom was lit by all these colors and lights, but I didn’t hear any sounds. I was half asleep and was trying to figure out what they were, when I fell back to sleep, thinking how beautiful they were.”
“I’m sure it must have been the Woo’s next door. They always have great fireworks. They were probably shooting them off last night, but it’s weird that I didn’t hear them either.”
14.
Prime Numbers
“Prime numbers,” Steve Parkington yelled to the morning. This revelation hit him while thinking about yesterday when his little nephew delighted in the act of squishing bugs in front of his sister, attempting without much effort to generate shrieks out of her, just as Steve used to do when he was a kid during the plague of cicadas.
“Why didn’t I think of it the first time?” he chided himself. The key is all around you, the message said. He reasoned that the cicada had two known life cycles, 13 or 17 years. Both were prime numbers. The prime numbers listed on the final screen went all the way to 3301 and the cicada’s life cycle all pointed to some sequence of prime numbers.
Steve turned off the boat’s engine, and in one fluid motion, hopped onto his parent’s dock, while holding the mooring line. He pulled the boat to the dock and then tied it off, quickly and precisely. His mind and body were a buzz of excitement from both figuring out the answer to the puzzle and seeing Darla King. She looked great, sitting in the lounge chair sipping her coffee. He couldn’t wait to meet her again, tonight.
They played as kids so long ago. He was secretly in love with her then, but she was so popular and beautiful, and he was still in his nerdy phase, with glasses and unkempt hair and clothes. Then, a couple of days ago, his father told him she might be at the barbeque. He looked her up in Facebook, surprised at how the years had turned her into such a beautiful woman. But he didn’t friend her, although he couldn’t at this moment remember why. He would cross those bridges tonight, but now it was the cicada and he had to share it with his father.