At the hall, she finds herself again talking with a brother from that distant time in the past. Harry moves closer to his sister, almost stumbling on his once politically sure feet, opening his arms to embrace her.
“Welcome home, Loli. There’s so much I want to tell you.” Harry hangs his head for a second, but looks back up with new belief. “I hope we can have a good talk.”
“Yes, Harry.” Auntie Lola nods. “Let’s have a cup of tea.”
They find a place at one of the tables. Auntie Teresa puts tea bags in two cups of hot water, and Andy carries them over. Jamie brings out a plate of cookies.
Harry looks across at his sister, through tearstained eyes, almost like he’s twenty years old again. He puts his tea bag in the cup before him.
“I’m so glad to see you, Loli. How are you, really I mean?”
“I’m OK, Harry, I’m OK.” Auntie Lola repeats herself slowly. She stirs a spoon of sugar into her tea.
“I was thinking about you ...” Harry shakes his head, smiling. “You remember that time we took the Chevy to the city for a cherry soda? That new soda shop opened on 15th street.”
“We never got our cherry sodas.” Lola sips her tea. She gives a pout. “We never even made it to the city.”
“We did get a piece of strawberry pie at the Grahams’.” Harry counters. “And Joey Graham sure took a shine to you and Ksandra. He gave the four of us a ride all the way to Shellbrook to get a new tire, then all the way back to the Chevy.”
“He was just a farm boy.” Lola shakes her head, looking down at her spoon. “Dressed in greasy coveralls.”
Harry looks a little more closely at his sister’s fine clothes and auburn sash. He doesn’t say any more. Silence swirls with the mixture of time-dimmed recollection.
“We stopped at the farm on the way. I said hi.” Auntie Lola looks up at her brother. Harry looks back, swallowing hard but still listening. “You didn’t even come to the funeral, Harry. What came over you?”
“I just couldn’t take it any more. You saw Ksandra when we took her out of the boat. She looked so …” Harry’s voice breaks. He takes a couple deep breaths, picking up his teacup to sip.
Auntie Lola drinks from her own cup. She reaches for a cookie, looks at it and places it on her saucer.
“I am sorry I didn’t come to the funeral, Lola … real sorry.” Uncle Harry measures the value of each word. “I don’t drink any more, you know, it’s been over a year now. I am trying hard … and things are getting better, Loli, so much better.” Harry gathers strength. “I was wrong not to come, to hide in the bottle. I know what I did didn’t help anyone. Including you. Can you forgive me?”
Auntie Lola looks long at her brother, and then stretches her hand past the teacups to touch his arm. Tears follow each other from his eyes but he holds the posture of his face, strong and firm in his determination.
The emotional flow around the brother-sister table begs distraction, and the sound of a new vehicle pulling up can’t be mistaken.
Sid wanders over to the yellow door to see who it is. He doesn’t recognize the car at first glance, but Jo and Sami sit in the front seat next to Uncle Nick. Maybe a rental. He walks over to hug his sister and niece, and to shake hands with his worldly uncle.
“Hey Sami, you’re tall. How old are you?” Sid asks.
“Eight.”
He looks at Jo and Nick. “Uncle Harry and Auntie Lola are just having a little chat.”
“Really? They’re both here?” Jo squats with her daughter. “Sami, there’s a new uncle and aunt for me to meet here. I never met either of them before, ever.”
“That’s weird, Mom.”
The usually calm look on Uncle Nick’s face is disturbed. Almost a replica of Harry’s face in the Calgary coffee shop when he talked of Ksandra, but with a Nick twist. Nick walks slowly back to the trunk of the car, but rather than opening it, he crosses his arms and looks down towards the lake. Sid wonders what he’s thinking. Uncle Harry comes out the hall door, adjusting himself into a party member with best face forward.
“Hey Nick. How the hell are you?” He walks around the car to his brother, arms extended. “Man, it is good to see you Nick.” His eyes shine with the aura of pink-cloud.
“Well, hello Harry.” Uncle Nick turns from the lake to take him in. His face softens. “You sure are looking good brother.” They embrace.
They square off, arms on shoulders, looking each other over.
“That’s a beautiful lake out there Nick. You gotta come fishing tomorrow with me and the nephews. Remember all the times we spent out there casting for pike?” Harry circles his brother now like a puppy bounces about a litter mate.
“I don’t go out in boats any more Harry. The last time was with you. Remember?” Nick’s face falls. “We spent two days out there in Chichowski’s old tub.”
“Yah, OK I know Nick. But look at how things have changed. Look at me. Miracles can happen. You can change too. Let go of the past. I know we should have looked out for her better, but I’ve been thinking about it for a year now. We made a mistake – everyone makes them. I was blaming myself for years, but now I forgive myself. It was all an accident.”
Uncle Nick looks at his brother, still tormented. “It was not an accident, Harry. That much I know.” He speaks each word with force. “You took off to the bar so fast, you never stuck around to hear the rest of the story. You never read the police report.”
“Police report?”
“They came out from Shellbrook. Didn’t you ever wonder why she had her dress on? She never went for a casual swim, not all dressed up like that.”
Harry’s breath shallows. “Maybe she just fell out of a boat.”
“There’s only one person who knows. Loli! But she keeps it inside like a secret locked up in a vault.” Nick looks at Harry in a moment of desperation. Then his face clouds over, and the veins rise on his forehead. “All because those guys had their fancy boat and shiny car. She was hypnotized. But you know, Ksandra wasn’t under the same spell. She wasn’t so shallow as Loli.”
“Yah, OK it was strange she was in a dress.” Harry is listening at least partially, adding his voice of scepticism to Nick’s aura of anger.
“She didn’t just go for a swim, that’s for sure.” Nick’s energy rises with his brother’s agreement.
“Well did those guys throw her out of their boat or something?” Harry asks, his brows furrowed and his lips pursed.
“I don’t think so, Harry. The report said there were no signs of a struggle. The police talked to both those guys but they already left the lake earlier that same day. So she wasn’t in the water until after those guys were gone. Something else happened. Only Loli knows. She’s so stubborn.”
“We can ask her, Nick.” Harry says. “Come on, she’s right inside. I was just talking to her.”
“Harry, I’ve been asking her for years. There’s no point, she won’t tell. They must have made a young girls’ pact, she must have sworn secrecy with Ksandra or something. It’s no use.”
“Well, come on inside. We can have a tea with Loli and talk about good old times anyway.” Harry puts his arm around his brother, guiding him over to the hall.
Sid follows them in. This Ksandra thing might never come to the light.
Auntie Lola stands over in the kitchen talking with her two older sisters and Sid watches as Uncle Nick resolutely heads over.
###
“Hey Sid.” Jamie waves Sid over.
“What about love.” Her eyes flash. “Jo said she told you to check out relationships, you know, for your treasure hunt. You should have a girlfriend.”
“I’ve had one or two, Jamie. Short term investment for me.”
“Love is the most important thing.” Amy says with a knowing look. “Especially in your own family. Keep looking.”
“We hear Ksandra was in love.” Jamie says.
“She died for true love,” Amy giggles. “That’s probably what happened.”
br /> “So love isn’t all that great.” Sid points out. “I mean if she died for it.”
“What if her soul burst into heaven absolutely in love?” Jamie argues. “The pure kind of true love that ends every fairy tale.”
“So it would be happily ever after.” Amy adds. “Forever.”
“Maybe she found nirvana by making the ultimate sacrifice in a state of pure love.” Jo puts it in her words.
“Are you guys in love with your husbands?” Sid challenges. “Like true love?”
“That’s not the same thing.” Jamie speaks with Jo nodding in agreement. “Ksandra never had a chance to know her guy as a husband, so her love was still pure.”
“Right, OK. You guys make a good point.” Sid looks at each of them, wondering if there could be a spiritual market value for love. Why not a mutual fund with a large market share in love, pure romantic or otherwise.
###
Ryan and Franco come sauntering in the door. Sid greets his cousins last seen around the Easter time barbeque. Ryan seems almost in a state of pure life frolic, while lines of concern on Franco’s face are drawn tighter than Sid has ever seen. Partying, or something else he wonders.
“Hey I never heard you guys drive up.” Sid says.
“We went for a spin in Franco’s boat.” Ryan fills him in. “We walked up from the boat launch.”
“Hey, you guys wanna go fishing tomorrow?”
“Yah, let’s go snag a pickerel mañana.” Ryan, laughing, does a hand-is-a-happy-fisherman.
After some chitchat, Sid leaves Ryan and Franco with agreement to pick them up in the morning. He needs a break from the hubbub. But remembering his promise, he tracks down Andy. Finding his cousin talking with Uncle Harry, inviting them both comes easy.
They hop in the Subaru, Harry in the back and Sid drives up the little paved highway, past the main campground to Rabbit Beach. Looking from the parking lot, Sid recaptures the view of life from the beach of five years past, free falling on a simple child’s swing.
“See over there Andy?” He points across the lake. “That’s where we went fishing last reunion. We cooked walleye on the beach by Pelican Rocks, Uncle.”
“And there’s Big Island.” Uncle Harry points more to the right.
“Let’s get even closer.” Sid can feel a tingle. “Let’s go to a new beach. You guys in?”
“Why not?” They agree.
The sandy logging road leads them along the lake. The Subaru takes them across the old wooden bridge over the sluggish river connecting Little Rabbit Lake with the larger Sahiya. Sid stops, opening his door to look down through the cracks between the planks into the clear blue, watching minnows scoot over the sandy bottom.
“The fish come up here in the spring.” Sid repeats what he’s been told. “Jackfish come out of the big lake to lay eggs in the little lake. Like the salmon from the ocean swim upriver to spawn. Hundreds of miles for the salmon, not so far for these slough sharks. Like people I think. Some go a little ways and some go a long ways.”
They drive further along the road into the poplars and spruce, now with a scattering of the bright white bark of birch trees. The hum of insects in the air permeates the calm sunny day. Sid uses the all-wheel drive to get up a little hill.
They cross the first peninsula, then the second and come to a fork in the road. To the left lies the lake. They turn and the branches grow in heavy across the trail, pushing in against the little car. Through an old wooden gate they see a dilapidated building sitting secluded in a stand of trees. A large open sandy area slopes down to a white sand beach.
“The reform camp.” Uncle Harry points at the old building.
“What?” Sid’s brow wrinkles.
“Back in the 50’s this was a camp for delinquent boys. They came to spend the summer out here. Away from everything to keep them out of trouble.”
They get out, walking through the sand to look from their new vantage point. A distinct beach for sure, with a different outlook. Sid walks down to the water’s edge, watching the waves build. A beach with history of reformed outlooks; he turns back.
“… if you want to quit, then you can be a member. As long as you have the desire. There’s no fees or membership forms …” Uncle Harry describes AA policy.
Andy listens to his uncle, nodding, while Sid catches it in the background, a story he has heard so many times, one of experience, strength and hope, being told one to another.
He pulls a blade of grass, sticks it between his teeth and half listening, gazes across the still waters to the Big Island looming high. Sid shivers as he feels an understanding that has evaded him for so long. If God made that piece of grass and the beauty of the island across the shining water, then God can surely do anything at all. God makes all kinds of growth potential available, Sid only needs to get his portfolio aligned.
“We can go fishing over by Big Island tomorrow.” Uncle Harry looks at them. “I know a good spot.”
“Yah, sounds good.” Sid squints over at his uncle.
Andy nods peacefully.
Chapter 19
Piing! The pinecone bounces off the picnic table.
“Shit. I missed.” Sid whispers.
Phweph! Direct hit. Andy’s cone hits the side of the tent, causing immediate stirrings inside.
“Fishing Ryan … fishing Yoli.” Andy yodels out, wide awake this morning. Though he didn’t sleep much last night, this time Andy’s racing mind disturbed his sleep unaltered.
The two of them turn to walk down a couple campsites to the tiny trailer Uncle Harry has borrowed. Their uncle stands around the fire pit, holding his finger to his lips as he sees them approach, protecting his daughter’s morning sleep-in from their boyish onslaught. Pinecone tossing, Sid thinks, helps keep the good feelings of barefoot childishness. To taper Andy off the good feelings of substances. Uncle Harry sips coffee as they approach with their hands behind their backs.
“”Morning Uncle. How’d you sleep?” Sid asks in hushed tones.
“Yahhh!” Uncle Harry gives a Rah Rah thumbs up. “We go forth to catch the big one.” He whispers, winking at his nephews.
“Any movement in Franco’s camp?” Sid asks.
“We already gave Ryan and Yoli an early invite.” Andy grins.
“Yah, there were some lights on at Franco’s. You guys want a coffee?”
Franco’s motor home looms in the shadows of some dark pines on the other side of the road. Sid glances at Andy. They know, without words, it’s best to leave the huge camper free of pinecone bombs.
“Cinnamon bun?” Uncle Harry passes a box.
As they munch, the door swings opened on the side of the motor home and Franco quietly exits, carrying a coffee cup and lifting a hand half way.
“Let’s move.” Uncle Harry says. He waves Franco along.
As they all walk back to Ryan and Yoli’s tent, a zipping sound reveals a sleepy eyed Ryan, followed by his wife. Yolita must have learned tolerance for early fishing. Two months past solstice, though, the sunrise does help out with more sleeping time.
“Everyone got a fishing licence?” Sid asks.
“You don’t.” Ryan looks at him.
“Anyone else?” Sid asks.
“We’ll all fit in the boat, eh.” Uncle Harry starts to organize.
Franco nods affirmative with a tight smile, then focuses on an insect in his coffee.
“OK, Sid you can drive.” Uncle Harry goes on. “And I’ll drive too. Who’s coming with me?”
Sid follows the ’75 Chevy through the dew-covered coolness of the campground poplars. An early morning mist lies out on the lake as they drive down to the boat launch to park in the wet grass. Everyone wears a light jacket, and Yoli wraps herself in an extra wool sweater.
“We going to Big Island, eh?” Ryan says.
“Yah, there’s a spot I gotta show you guys.” Uncle Harry winks. “It’s a place old man Chichowski took us long ago. There’s a rock bar out there and lots of fish. Big fish
.” He stretches his arms wide.
Franco starts the Johnson inboard, an engine barely audible and they all find places in the plush seats. The steering wheel sits in the middle, and a collapsible cover like the top on a convertible protects the front compartment. The six of them easily fit in the boat.
Franco hits the throttle, shooting the boat up to a smooth skim over the surface, leaving everyone sunken back in their lush seats. The takeoff startles Yoli, but Franco doesn’t notice. Ryan frowns. They glide straight up the lake, past Rabbit Beach, past the reform camp, arcing into the long bay that goes on past Big Island. Close to where the island hugs the far shore they slow down.
“OK, just a little further. I want to see those two points line up over there.” Uncle Harry keeps his eye on the shore. “OK, cut it now.”
Ryan and Yoli have their gear ready, casting almost in unison as the boat drifts in. The hollow call of the loon echoes out from the long bay, while the island’s hill emerges above them. Sid watches trails of fog hovering over the water, swirling gently with sluggish air currents. Long narrow fields of green reeds line the shores over in the channel between island and shore. The water in the channel reflects a relaxing light green, quite shallow. Almost a place to go on pilgrimage.
“No bites.” Andy disrupts the silent sermon. “What’s going on Uncle Harry? Are we in the right place?”
“Yah, this is the spot. Try a Len Thompson. Best lure for any fish.”
“I had a couple nibbles.” Ryan pacifies.
“So how’s the lottery, Ryan?” Sid revives the last fishing trip talk.
“Fantastic. I won big.” Ryan’s enthusiasm washes over Sid like an ocean wave. “She’s sitting right here beside me.” Ryan winks.
The euphoria of new love, the thrill of the first year of marriage. Romantic love creates spikes on the investment board, like Jo was saying, at least in the short term. A long term follow-up, even though it comes with a variable return rate, still invites investment, Jamie and Amy seemed to add.
“Hey, I won two other lotteries. The Uncle Nick lottery and the Pepe lottery.” Ryan does a hand-is-a-flashing-lights-winner. “Uncle Nick was right. You can win a lottery without a ticket. You can have what the ads try to sell you on.”