Bennett The Brave

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Early in the summer season, before I got my license, my Dad began to hatch a plan to somehow get power and water over to the cottage on our island in the cove. The island represented nearly three acres of total land, so it could easily accommodate a small compound of buildings. My father figured that if he could make the cottage the main building, and put three or four smaller cabins on the island, we would have another feature to attract renters and retreaters. Neal and I thought it was a grand idea, Garrett was game, only Mom was dubious.

"It's a big project," she said, "Apart from the money it's going to cost to do all this, who is going to want to rent a cabin or what have you, that's only accessible by boat?"

Mom wasn't trying to put the kibosh on the deal, but she would have felt remiss if she didn't point out some of the more obvious pitfalls.

"The cottage is already there, and it's going to fall into ruin if we don't use it," Dad pointed out. Mom had to agree with him there. He was always going over to the cottage to make repairs and keep it in good shape. Making that kind of effort didn't make much sense if nobody was going to rent the thing. The cottage had never been rigged for electricity, but that could be done easily enough. The local electrical utility had offered several times to bring power to the island, as they had done for several others on other end of the massive lake. Now, Dad decided was going to take them up on their offer.

One afternoon, Neal and I decided to take the canoe over to the island, and visit the cottage. With its surrounding copse of trees, the cottage is remarkably quiet, even with all the buzzing of boats and activities going on around the lake during the busy summer season. We wandered through the tall grasses and weeds surrounding the building, and started to picture in our minds what the end product would look like.

The cottage itself sat near the northern most point, the rest of squat, crescent-shaped island which lay beyond its front door. My father explained to us that he planned to update the cottage, a rugged stone affair, and add a wrap-around porch on the front. Beyond the steps of the front porch, we would clear the land to create a fairly large yard, and surround it with four smaller cabins. Two of which would be "family style" cabins, with a bathroom and shower, one large bedroom and two smaller rooms, equipped with bunk beds. The other two cabins would be larger, but little more than bunk rooms divided by a common room in the center, four showers and toilets. Those "camp style" cabins were designed to be single-sex, and could accommodate up to eight campers plus a "counselor" bed in each bunk room, for a total of 16 children or adults per cabin.

At the other end of the "yard", would be a large fire-pit made of stone and log benches. Near the main cottage, would be a small outbuilding where mowers, maintenance equipment and tools would be kept. Dad also planned on including an outdoor BBQ station. The rest of the island would remain wooded, to shield its occupants from the hustle and bustle of the lake, except where it shared the cove with the mainland.

An ambitious project for sure, I felt kind of infected by the completeness of Dad's vision for the island. I was constantly asking him questions about what was going to go where. Garrett's father was on the board of a local bank, so the loan my father needed to make his island dreams come true, was quickly and easily approved. Mom worried about whether we'd ever make enough to pay it back, but Dad seemed confident.

Neal and I wandered the boundaries of the island, I watched him as he walked ahead of me through the tall grass. He was taller now, but I still outpaced him in the height department. True to his prediction, Neal wasn't the tallest among our circle of common friends. He was no shorty, standing about five feet, eight inches, but by then, at fifteen, nearly sixteen years old, I stood about 6 feet. I would eventually top out at 6', 4". So, he stood a little taller than my shoulders, making for a noticeable difference between us. It didn't seem to bother Neal, so it never bothered me, which is good because there wasn't going to be much either of us could do about it.