Read Online A Lifetime Burning in a Moment by Rick Mofina - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rick Mofina
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carved into it.
Back in the car, as they started off on the final portion of their trip, Elise tilted an open bag of potato chips to Devlin then pointed to the restaurant. “It looks nice. Let’s go there for dinner after we settle in at the cabin.”
“Sounds good.”
The last stretch lasted some twenty minutes along a treacherous pathway that seemed even more primeval than the road they’d already travelled. Leafy branches slapped and scraped the Ford as gravel popcorned against the undercarriage. Soon the lake made its first appearance on the left, flashing between the trees in patches of brilliant blue.
It seemed so near.
“This is so cool,” Annie slid off her headset. “It’s like the loneliest place in the world. Like we travelled back in time or landed on a strange planet or something. I love it. It’s so cool.”
Blake wondered about Native legends and lost trapper ghost stories.
“Oh, turn here,” Elise pointed to a broken birch which suggested the letter ‘T’. “This is it.”
Devlin stopped, dust clouds enveloped them as he inched off the road onto an earthen path curtained with a tangle of tall shrubs that swallowed their car. Through the stands of trees they glimpsed the lake and their cabin.
It was built with hand-hewn pine and had a wide deck with Adirondack chairs. There was a hammock tied between a pair of tall cedars. The cabin’s lake front wall was a floor-to-ceiling window with French doors. Inside, hardwood floors gleamed to the fieldstone fireplace.
The main floor had a large living room dining area. The kitchen had a small fridge, freezer and stove, which were state-of-the-art energy-efficient, powered by batteries and solar panels on an exposed hillside. The sink had a pump to draw clean well water. There was a small hot water reservoir. There was a master bedroom downstairs and two large spacious bedroom areas in the loft which Blake and Annie found immediately.
There was one sink in the small bathroom but that was it. Beyond that there was no indoor plumbing. No toilet. No tub or shower. There was a small outhouse at the rear. The lake was where people bathed. No phone, no electricity. No computers, no Internet, no faxes. Neighbors are rare in these parts. “It’s just you, the lake and the woods,” Elise smiled after she’d finished reading the manager’s note.
Energized, they unpacked, changed then waded into the water of their private beach to swim off the sweat and dust of the drive. Curious, Devlin walked through waist-high water to inspect the gleaming boat tied to the dock. It came with the cabin.
“Think you can drive it,” Elise smiled.
“You bet, let’s go for a ride.”
They all climbed into the aluminum craft. The 25-horsepower outboard came to life with a bubbling rumble that churned a creamy white wake as Devlin eased it ahead before opening up the throttle. The motor whined, raising the bow as he adjusted the tiller, centering its point squarely on the middle of the lake. Warm breezes brushed their faces.
It felt good.
A baptism of sorts, Devlin thought, warmed by the absence of others.
Bedrock as old as time formed the distant peaks that guarded the lake. They jutted from rolling forests laced with clear water streams and meadows jewelled with red trilliums, orange daylilies, blue flags, and bunchberries. The lake was known as God’s secret sanctuary, according to the history Devlin had read. For years, it was all-but-forgotten, hidden in a remote reach of Canada’s border with New England. Other than an abandoned Jesuit outpost, no lasting settlements had ever been recorded here. Much of the territory had remained unexplored well into the late 1800s. The demanding terrain had repelled lumber companies.
In 1893, a Halifax shipping tycoon bought a 400-acre section surrounding the lake. He died without ever having set foot on it. His acquisition was ignored by his estate, except for the sale of a few lakeside tracts to satisfy an obscure
Back in the car, as they started off on the final portion of their trip, Elise tilted an open bag of potato chips to Devlin then pointed to the restaurant. “It looks nice. Let’s go there for dinner after we settle in at the cabin.”
“Sounds good.”
The last stretch lasted some twenty minutes along a treacherous pathway that seemed even more primeval than the road they’d already travelled. Leafy branches slapped and scraped the Ford as gravel popcorned against the undercarriage. Soon the lake made its first appearance on the left, flashing between the trees in patches of brilliant blue.
It seemed so near.
“This is so cool,” Annie slid off her headset. “It’s like the loneliest place in the world. Like we travelled back in time or landed on a strange planet or something. I love it. It’s so cool.”
Blake wondered about Native legends and lost trapper ghost stories.
“Oh, turn here,” Elise pointed to a broken birch which suggested the letter ‘T’. “This is it.”
Devlin stopped, dust clouds enveloped them as he inched off the road onto an earthen path curtained with a tangle of tall shrubs that swallowed their car. Through the stands of trees they glimpsed the lake and their cabin.
It was built with hand-hewn pine and had a wide deck with Adirondack chairs. There was a hammock tied between a pair of tall cedars. The cabin’s lake front wall was a floor-to-ceiling window with French doors. Inside, hardwood floors gleamed to the fieldstone fireplace.
The main floor had a large living room dining area. The kitchen had a small fridge, freezer and stove, which were state-of-the-art energy-efficient, powered by batteries and solar panels on an exposed hillside. The sink had a pump to draw clean well water. There was a small hot water reservoir. There was a master bedroom downstairs and two large spacious bedroom areas in the loft which Blake and Annie found immediately.
There was one sink in the small bathroom but that was it. Beyond that there was no indoor plumbing. No toilet. No tub or shower. There was a small outhouse at the rear. The lake was where people bathed. No phone, no electricity. No computers, no Internet, no faxes. Neighbors are rare in these parts. “It’s just you, the lake and the woods,” Elise smiled after she’d finished reading the manager’s note.
Energized, they unpacked, changed then waded into the water of their private beach to swim off the sweat and dust of the drive. Curious, Devlin walked through waist-high water to inspect the gleaming boat tied to the dock. It came with the cabin.
“Think you can drive it,” Elise smiled.
“You bet, let’s go for a ride.”
They all climbed into the aluminum craft. The 25-horsepower outboard came to life with a bubbling rumble that churned a creamy white wake as Devlin eased it ahead before opening up the throttle. The motor whined, raising the bow as he adjusted the tiller, centering its point squarely on the middle of the lake. Warm breezes brushed their faces.
It felt good.
A baptism of sorts, Devlin thought, warmed by the absence of others.
Bedrock as old as time formed the distant peaks that guarded the lake. They jutted from rolling forests laced with clear water streams and meadows jewelled with red trilliums, orange daylilies, blue flags, and bunchberries. The lake was known as God’s secret sanctuary, according to the history Devlin had read. For years, it was all-but-forgotten, hidden in a remote reach of Canada’s border with New England. Other than an abandoned Jesuit outpost, no lasting settlements had ever been recorded here. Much of the territory had remained unexplored well into the late 1800s. The demanding terrain had repelled lumber companies.
In 1893, a Halifax shipping tycoon bought a 400-acre section surrounding the lake. He died without ever having set foot on it. His acquisition was ignored by his estate, except for the sale of a few lakeside tracts to satisfy an obscure
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