Day 161 - Cabin Story

Cabin Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

The cabin was located up north in the fingers, about halfway between Traverse and Glen Arbor, right off state road 72. It had belonged to her father, Kenneth C. Reynolds, who had bought it when Katherine was twelve. That began the ritual of the annual family summer trip.  At the time, she didn’t understand the appeal of having a cabin. Katherine had no appreciation for the forests or the lakes and she hated the cold weather. Katherine was a city girl, and Glen Arbor was no place for a city girl.

At thirty-seven, Katherine hadn’t developed a love of nature or the great outdoors, but she did have a great love of privacy. The city had become a frightening place, too expensive and too crowded and busy. People were tired and had short tempers and it seemed like everyone was just dragging along, nursing their broken dreams. The glamor and the glitz and the fun had faded away a long time ago, along with her girlish youth. The people she knew had all become one-dimensional caricatures of their former selves. They were trapped in mortgages and marriages and trying to talk to them had become a chore. Life and love was a broken dream of youth and Katherine always felt underwater. She could see her former life, see what she used to enjoy, but getting that back was like fighting the water’s current – adrift in a sea of loss and compromise.

Burnt by betrayal and boredom, Katherine came to the cabin to rest. That was seven months ago.

During the busy summer months the population of Glen Arbor nearly tripled. It was good for business. It was bad for solitude. At first Katherine didn’t mind. She was part of the population boom. It made her feel more comfortable, being in a crowd. It was more like city. She couldn’t quite say it was more like home anymore, because the city just didn’t feel as much like home as it used to. But still, she had liked the busy season with the busy summer activities.

Things were turning cold. The crowds were all gone. The county was nice and quiet again. Katherine was ready for it to be nice and quiet. She was getting used to having her entire day to herself. She found she didn’t miss standing in lines or being stuck in traffic one bit. She didn’t know if she would stay through winter or not. She hadn’t meant to stay through summer. But things don’t always work out with a plan. Sometimes life was just more enjoyable when you threw the map out the window.

When Katherine was sixteen and had discovered boys, she found an appreciation for the dunes at Sleeping Bear. That was the first time she thought she knew what love was. That was the first time she had enjoyed one of the family summers at the cabin. She never told her father that. She was an annoyed and moody teenager who liked to drive her parents crazy no matter what they did. She had complained for weeks about having to go to the cabin that summer and had complained for the first few weeks at the cabin, she wasn’t about to tell them that she wanted to stay longer. Her mom knew though. That probably meant her dad did too, but somehow at the time Katherine hadn’t figured that out.

They stayed two extra weeks that summer. Katherine had never thanked her mother for that. And now it was far too late.

One afternoon, about eight months into her sabbatical, a familiar face arrived at the cabin. Katherine was in the yard staring off into the woods when his car pulled up.

“What are you doing here, Jimmy?”

James was Katherine’s brother, but she still called him Jimmy after all these years.

“I was getting worried. You never answer the damn phone.”

It was true. Katherine never answered her phone. But here, alone at the cabin, the habit had only gotten worse. Katherine had turned her cellphone off and she stopped checking her emails. She had found a certain peace that came with solitude and had intentionally separated herself more from the world.

“What are you doing up here, alone?”

“Maybe I’m writing a novel.”

Jimmy laughed. Their father had started a novel every summer when the family came to the cabin, with dreams of becoming somebody someday. Not once had he ever finished more than twenty pages.

“Just like the old man.”

“Nah, not quite. Not yet anyway. You missed my birthday.”

“I tried calling but…”

“I know, I know.”

“Nah, I’m just givin’ you a hard time. Hold on.”

Jimmy went to his car and took some bags out from the back seat. He returned and handed Katherine a bottle of Southern Comfort.

“You remembered!”

“How could I forget? Happy Birthday, sis.”

They made a fire after dinner and drank several toasts to all sorts of memories. They told stories and cursed the past and their parents, and they smiled with love and affection for fond memories. They cried a little bit when they talked too long about their mother. Her passing had been too recent. Neither was really ready to acknowledge it. Their father had been gone for a decade. It was easier to remember him.

“You coming home soon?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“It’s almost been a year.”

“Yeah. But I still don’t know.”

“Everybody misses you. Know that. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I think I need a new life.”

“Well, whatever you need, you let me know. I’m not letting you live in this cabin, though. It is half mine after all. Maybe I’ll lease it to you for a bit.”

“Thanks. You sticking around for a few days?”

“I could. I didn’t know what you’d want.”

“Let’s go to the beach tomorrow. It isn’t that cold yet.”

That night Katherine had a dream of her father. She was twelve again and had come to the cabin with just him. Her mother and Jimmy had stayed downstate for some reason. Katherine had loved her father dearly and at the time she was still eager to play the role of doting daughter. They spent three days together and her father had tried to teach her to fish. It was the only trip she could think of that she took with just her father and no other family member.

The next morning was near freezing, but Katherine and Jimmy went to the beach anyway. They slowly walked the sands at the dunes and remembered all the times they had played there as children. For a moment Katherine forgot her age and wrapped her arms around her little brother to hug him. She felt young and free and alive again, like a tremendous weight had been lifted off her. She felt like she once again had a home.