She had fallen asleep to the moonbeam lighting the darkened lake, threading a silver ribbon across her bedspread. Now it was daybreak and thirteen-year-old Lilly awakened to the trilling of the marsh wrens and the call of the loons, their hauntingly beautiful sounds, so clear across the calm water. She felt the soft breeze off Lake Chastain, just a few hundred feet below, blowing gently through the cabin’s screened-in porch where she and her two older brothers slept. She heard the sizzle of the flour-battered sunfish cooking hot in her mom’s big cast-iron frying pan on the small hotplate. Yesterday’s catch would be this morning’s breakfast; all twenty of the sunfish scaled and cleaned last night by her dad. She smelled the hickory smoke from the fireplace, the fresh coffee percolating and the crisp scent of the pines, far removed from a routine morning on the farm.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she felt her stomach clench and wondered if it was because she had eaten only popcorn for supper. Instead of an evening meal they had all sat on blankets in the small clearing next to their cabin, crowding close to Nick’s transistor radio, hanging on every word. Mankind’s first walk on the moon and the astronaut saying, “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”
“No, you need to make up your bed before you go fishing,” she now heard her mom whisper to her two older brothers, Nick and Ronnie, already dressed. Lilly stretched and watched her brothers fold up their bedding. She told them last night she wanted to go with them on the morning fishing trip even though it meant missing out on breakfast. Going out on the boat with her dad was her favorite thing to do on their week-long vacation.
A wide doorway from the porch opened into the spacious living room, large enough to accommodate the whole family and their faithful border collie, Pep. Twice the size of their farmhouse living room it seemed even bigger with a cathedral style wood planked ceiling. The room was furnished with two large, soft, leather sofas and assorted mismatched side chairs, all set around the massive stone fireplace in the middle of the room. Here, everyone spent the evening together, reading or playing chess or telling stories while roasting marshmallows over the open fireplace. Around the edge of the generous living room were three small bedrooms and a sparsely furnished bathroom. Each of the bedrooms had a sturdy four-poster bed, a brightly polished mahogany dresser with a mirror on top and freshly washed white lace curtains over the windows.
Mom had converted one corner of the living room to a self-styled kitchenette with her hotplate and cookware from the farm and five large ice chests to store their food for the week-long stay, as she did each year. The cabin had no kitchen as park guests were expected to eat at the park restaurant. But with a family of seven, it was expensive enough just to rent the cabin. The nice cleaning ladies wouldn’t tell on them. Each morning they knocked on the screen door bringing fresh towels and sheets, pretending not to smell the day’s cooking or see the pans of home-baked bread and rolls and cookies and pies someone had forgotten to cover.
The cabin was a magical escape from the dreariness and closed-in atmosphere of their two-story wood framed farmhouse with its tiny, wallpapered rooms and narrow staircase, the family crowding in after the evening chores and supper as though it were a boarding house.
Lilly rose and saw Nick and Ronnie tiptoeing towards the screen door, stopping to separate their fishing poles from the others all leaning up against the porch steps railing. She pulled on her favorite t-shirt, her dark blue Michigan sweatshirt, and her neatly pressed white capris from her suitcase.
“Wait up,” Lilly whispered to them. “I gotta find my shoes.”
“No, Lilly, hurry up if you wanna go with us. We’re not waiting,” Ronnie whispered back.
“Lilly, please put some shoes on. You’re a big girl now,” her mom said as Lilly grabbed a cookie.
“I can’t find them, Mom. And Dad will leave without me,” Lilly protested.
Hurrying out the door she ran barefoot down the cool dirt path after them. A grove of white birch trees ran below the row of thirteen log cabins and circled Lake Chastain down to the swaying reed beds hugging the water’s edge. Dogwoods and black chokeberry bushes grew so thick in the grove that it was necessary to stay on the soft dirt path. Near the water Lilly often spotted a snapping turtle or a beaver working on its dam. And always there were chattering squirrels scampering on their early morning nut run in the knee-high undergrowth.
Their dad was already down in the rowboat, getting the gear ready, waiting for the early risers. He would row them over to the eastern side of the lake to their secret spot, Bachmann’s Cove, the best place for morning fishing. Lilly got to oversee the army-green tackle box with its treasure trove of hooks and flies and nylon fishing lines and bobbers and weights, all separated into their own little boxes.
“Ya made it, Lilly Girl,” her dad said, as she clambered breathlessly into the rowboat.
With a push, Nick and Ronnie dislodged the boat from the sandbar and her dad leaned into the oars. As they glided onwards towards Bachmann’s Cove, Lilly felt her stomach cramp again and glancing down, saw the red blotch on her white capris. Her dad had seen it too. He gave her a quiet nod.
“Boys, we’re gonna first make a quick run to Jackson’s Store to get some more bait,” her dad said. “Lilly, you come with me while the boys watch the boat. Put on my big jacket behind you now. It’s still chilly ‘til the sun gets up a bit higher.”
The waves lapped gently against the rowboat hull as her brothers tied a rope around the pole on the dock. King, the Jackson’s big yellow lab, ran down to the end of the dock, impatient to greet them. He came up to Lilly and sniffed.
“You don’t need to go with me,” Lilly told her dad, calmly pushing King away.
“Alright then, here’s a ten to pick up some nightcrawlers too. I’m gonna check out that boat Hank’s got for sale in his backyard.”
He was waiting when she walked out clutching a brown bag. The screen door banged behind her.
“So, Dad, guess what?” Lilly said, as they walked across the wet grass towards the dock.
“Tell me instead,” her dad replied.
“I decided I’m gonna be an astronaut. And I was thinking. It should be humankind, not mankind. Right?”
She felt him put a strong arm around her shoulders.
“That’s my Lillian, already rarin’ to change the world,”
Lilly looked up at him and saw him gazing out over to the distant shore. Looking in the same direction, she saw it too, her heart full. Across the water a great blue heron lifted her wings for flight.
© 2022, Catherine Cain.
Beautiful story, very atmospheric. A sense of place and all the senses are fulfilled as well, especially sound and sight. I look forward to reading more from this writer!