by Deb Lewis
“So that leaves the creepy guy we met in the woods,” Deb said. “We think he was the land developer that we heard about from the bartender.” “You mean the land raper?” Julie asked.
“Whatever… his girlfriend… she did leave on that ferry, or one pretty close to it. But here’s the part that’s right out of a novel. She was headed for the B.I.A., the Bureau of Indian Affairs, in Ashland. While the local authorities were looking for her, she was meeting with federal agents.”
“It’s not illegal to buy land from Natives, is it?” Bev asked.
“No, it’s not,” Deb said. “But it is illegal to set up an elaborate scam, which he had done before in Arizona and Oklahoma. Naturally, they didn’t get him on that. Can you guess what they got him on?”
Everyone was silent, waiting for the answer.
“I know, I know,” Carolyn said. “Taxes. It’s the way they always get the mob guys.”
“And the prize goes to Carolyn,” Pat said. “That guy’s gonna get ten to twenty, since they have a great witness who is willing to testify.”
“Don’t forget Lotta,” Julie said.
“Lotta’s our friend. She’s done everything with us,” Noreen said. “We don’t even know why she was in prison.”
“I know,” Bev confessed. “It was self-defense. He was drunk and coming at her.”
“I’ve seen lots of cases like that,” Deb said. “A woman makes a split second decision that changes her whole life.”
“Enough with suspects. Did a body ever turn up?” Linda asked.
“Nope. The Coast Guard searched a long time. On the other hand, the water is cold and deep. But, I still say there never was a real woman at all,” Pat said stubbornly. “Maybe, she was something else.”
“Stop, Pat, with the woo-woo theories,” Julie admonished. “All I can say is, if you think so, then at least… Hell no, you’re not my guru, and since you’re not wearing your collar, I’m not required to believe you. But, let’s raise a glass to her, whoever she was, and to next year’s retreat as well.”
And glasses were raised by all.
“Before you leave,” Deb said, standing up and walking to the kitchen. “I have something for each of you.”
“What’s this?”
Returning to the room, she opened a shopping bag and pulled out a matching sweatshirt for each of them. Embroidered on the front were the words: “First Annual M.I. Solstice Retreat.”
“Just a little something from Pat and me to express our gratitude. Thanks for helping us. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
* * *
After the others had gone outside to load the cars, Deb sat pensively at the kitchen table, pen in hand, staring at the journal before her. She began to write.
After carefully placing the notebook on the counter, Deb looked around and turned off the lights, putting the key in the lock on the way out.
* * *
Standing on the ferry’s upper deck, Pat gazed toward the dock of La Pointe as it became smaller and smaller in her vision.
It looks like the scene from that play, Brigadoon, she thought, fading away into the fog.
“It looks like a fairy tale place, doesn’t it?” Deb put her arm around her friend, once again reading her mind. “And that woman… I really believe we met her coming off the ferry that first day; you know the one who helped me when my shoe was once again untied. She just touched me for a second, you know? But she was like Mother Earth and the Wizard of Oz all rolled into one. I guess even if I never find out who she was for sure, I’m glad she’s a part of the island. Can you believe it?”
That’s my trouble, Pat thought, believing.
Squinting, she could just make out a figure in a long flowing dress, standing on the edge of the dock, waving cheerily, as if right at her.
Is it the pastor? she thought, waving back. No, no. I know she’s back at the church. Could it possibly be her? After a whole weekend of trying to find her? There waving on the dock? Pointing wordlessly, she directed Deb’s gaze to the shore.
“Oh, my gosh!” Deb smiled and clapped her hands joyfully. “It’s her! I know it is. She came to see us off.”
Pat was more skeptical, but then she took a deep breath. There are moments in life when one is called to leap. Church people might call it a leap of faith. Others might call it a leap into the unknown.
In the end, Pat thought, it’s choosing. It’s whistling in the dark; reaching out a hand when you don’t know it will be taken; or believing enough to act.
I’ve had trouble with leaping. That’s why I am so proud of my friends. I recognize courageous acts when I see them… Maybe that’s what a pastor is… a cheerleader urging others on from the sidelines, like Moses, never reaching the Promised Land myself. Heavens, I’ve been reading the Bible too long.
“I believe it’s her,” she said out loud, leaping, for once. “And that’s enough.” Feeling for one precious moment that everything was in balance and that somehow it was because of Mida, she watched, straining her eyes as the fog closed in and the image on the dock seemed to break apart into a million pieces of light.
Waving once more, she turned to Mike who had come out on the deck to stand by her. “Some weekend, huh?” he asked, rubbing his neck with his big hand.
Pat shook her head and drew in a breath of the cool clear air.
“You can say that again, big guy. You need me to rub that spot?” Reaching up, she skillfully pressed her fingers into the tender spots. “Wow, you are tight. You know you did the best anyone could, don’t you?”
“Right,” he said, stretching. “It’s just that I always prided myself in the numbers. Can you believe it? How many trips back and forth? How many people? Crap! Excuse me, how much money we took in!” He turned to look at Pat, and she dropped her hands. “But now, because of this one weekend, I won’t ever look at being captain in the same way again.” Looking off to the horizon, he continued softly speaking. “These are real souls I’m here to protect and care for as they travel these waters. They always were, but now I know it to my core. It’s changed everything for me. He was silent then, having said more words than she had ever heard him string together before. He was a man of few words. Between friends, words are seldom needed.
Epilogue
July 24
A single gull soared back and forth on the lake’s wind currents under the fluffy clouds of another azure Lake Superior sky.
“Glad you could make it, Berni,” Deb said softly, looking up from the deck of the Hotel Chequamegon, remembering her first born who had already crossed over. “Wish I could fly with you today.” Hearing footsteps, she looked across the deck to see a familiar form walking towards her.
Pat sat down in the chair next to the table with a satisfied sigh.
“Hi, kiddo. Did you order yet? Sorry I’m late. Even though it’s been a month since the retreat, I’m still answering emails.
“Don’t worry, be happy,” Deb said. “Nope, I didn’t order, I just had coffee.” Pat reached down and patted Strider, scratching him in the places only a true friend could know about. Strider had been dancing by his owner’s chair but now settled in on Deb’s feet with a blissful expression.
“Glad to see you too, old man.” Pat couldn’t help smiling back at the only smiling dog she had ever known.
“I think everything is finally done,” Pat continued, turning back to Deb. “Last thank-you sent, last vendor paid, and we have ended up with a whopping one hundred twenty-six dollars and fifty-one cents.”
“Great. So, we actually paid our expenses?”
“Not exactly. But we got a great deal on the cabin, and Lotta says our next breakfast is on her.”
“So, you’ve talked to Lotta?”
“Yes, and I’m glad I did. She’s doing okay. Turns out everyone on the island knew her secret, and they were protecting her.”
“Oh, that’s good, and the woman?”
“I talked to Gary just this morning. They’re closing the ca
se. The official verdict is just a miscount on the ferry. Mike is upset, of course, that they counted wrong, but he was relieved that his record as captain is untainted.” After they ordered, they sat in companionable silence.
“So what do you think?” Pat asked.
“Think? Think about what?” Deb answered, her mind lost in the water and the sun.
“So what do you think we’re going to do for our winter solstice retreat?”
Deb laughed.
“Give me a break, or at least another cup of coffee before we even think about doing it.” Leaning down she took Strider’s muzzle in her hand.
“What do you think, dog? Should we get on this merry-go-round again?” Strider woofed.
Pat’s phone rang.
“It’s Bev,” she said to Deb, recognizing the number.
Pat held up the phone so they could both hear.
“I’m calling to thank you again for the wonderful weekend up there and to say goodbye before I leave,” Bev said.
“Where are you going this time?” Pat asked. “Off on another adventure?”
“I’m off to Taos, New Mexico. I met a wonderful woman at the retreat from there, and I decided since I had so much positive feedback from my readings, I would try my sleight of hand in the big time. Wish me luck!”
“Luck. Just try not to give anyone a reading like mine, okay?”
“Right. Have you heard from Linda? I just can’t get over the change in her. I saw she and her husband in church Sunday, and it’s as if they were on a second honeymoon. But it’s more than that. She seems so relaxed. She whispered to me during the announcements that she’s giving up sitting on all those church boards. I’m telling you, neither of us can wait until next year’s retreat.”
Pat laughed at the thought.
“Well, I’ve got to go wash clothes so I can pack,” Bev said. “And Pat? Thanks again. See you, Deb!”
“It was our pleasure,” Pat replied, as she hung up.
Hooray! Pat thought. She sent up a silent cheer to the universe.
“Look, I have another message on my phone,” Pat said, pushing the button that leads to her voicemail. “It’s my mother.”
Beep. “Millie and I had so much fun, we’ve decided to take you up on your generous offer to go on a bridge cruise. I know, I know… she hasn’t ever played bridge before, but we’ll be fine. Maybe we’ll meet some men. Wouldn’t that be something? Call me.” Beep.
PROLOGUE FOR UPCOMING BOOK:
Murder on the Bridge
It started out as a lark. Their daughters were the ones who had suggested a bridge cruise - a well-needed getaway, some time in the sun. It’s the kind of thing older women do for a little safe fun: playing cards, and to be perfectly honest, finding a man or two who can still stay awake long enough to take a turn around the dance floor at night. “A Disney cruise for the elderly,” Jessie had said. They had laughed.
But this was no ordinary cruise, because a bridge cruise usually means cards and fun, not a body taking a header off the captain’s bridge in the middle of the night. Add to the mix that “the body” is the most eligible man on the boat. What starts out as a fun way to spend a week meeting new people, turns into a frightening nightmare, as Deb and Pat’s mothers try to solve the murder before someone else gets pushed.
Chapter One
“What do you think? Will they actually go?” asked Deb, looking across at her friend, Pat, as they enjoyed a cup of coffee together.
“You got me. After all, she’s your mother.”
“And yours. Don’t forget Jessie. What were you thinking of when you brought up a bridge cruise to them?”
Deb looked over accusingly.
“Frankly, I never thought they would take me up on it. A cruise in the West Indies? Come on. I just thought I would be a good daughter and offer it, and they would refuse. End of story. It was your idea to offer to pay for the trip. Jeeze Louise, like my mother would ever turn down a free trip.”
“Well it was your idea to take them clothes shopping. My feet still hurt.” Deb groaned. “Who would have thought two ladies in their eighties and nineties would be able to shop that long. I figured they would buy one full-bodied swim suit and sturdy tennis shoes. No, your mother had to have a designer dress. And five shops later they were giggling like school girls.”
“Okay, okay. But at least the hard part is over. All we really have to do is pick them up and get them to the airport on time. And maybe after dropping them off, we can stop at the casino, win a little money, and have dinner.” Pat smiled, thinking of two carefree weeks.
“You’re right. And the up side is two carefree weeks, where we know they won’t be getting into trouble,” she said, as if reading Deb’s mind.
* * *
Sitting in the afternoon sun, the two friends, both, after all, their mothers’ daughters, had no idea what was coming next.
Recipes for Retreats
MITCH’S MOLE (MO-LAY) SAUCE
Mitch loves to cook. It’s a love gift he gives to his wife like some ‘ men give pearls. His mole sauce is really great, but don’t be afraid to experiment with your own. Just don’t forget to add his secret ingredient: love.
INGREDIENTS
4 1/2 cups chicken broth
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup finely chopped onions
3 tablespoons chopped garlic
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 1/2 tablespoons chili powder
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 ounces dark chocolate, chopped
2 1/2-3 lb. chicken (fryer) brown and set aside
DIRECTIONS
Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium low heat. Add onion, garlic, oregano, cumin and cinnamon. Cover and cook until onion is almost tender, stirring occasionally - about 10 minutes. Mix in chili powder and flour; stir for 3 minutes. Gradually whisk in chicken broth. Increase heat to medium high. >Boil until reduced, about 35 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat. Whisk in chocolate; season with salt and pepper, if desired. Add chicken to sauce and cover and simmer 30 minutes on low heat. Serve over cooked noodles or rice.
* * *
JESSIE’S VENISON DISH
Venison, (that’s deer, for city folks) is a wonderful meat, but it can be quite gamey. Excuse the pun. It’s a good idea to make sure you take off the tallow (fat), especially if you put it in a stew or as with this recipe, with tomatoes. As a child, I grew up eating wild game and birds through the winter, and my mother, Jessie, became an expert at cooking it. I can still remember the scent of this stew as I came in the door from school.
INGREDIENTS
1 1/2 lb. venison cut into strips. (You can use the chops if you have them.)
2 cloves fresh garlic crushed.
4 tablespoons butter (Venison is very lean.)
2 large mild onions, sliced
2 green peppers, cut in strips
3 fresh tomatoes chunked (but canned works well too)
1/4 cup of water
1 cup of beef broth
2 tablespoons cornstarch (my mother sometimes just used a can of mushroom soup - saves the gravy making)
2 tablespoons soy sauce
3 cups of cooked wild rice and 3/4 cup of white rice uncooked
DIRECTIONS
Brown garlic, onions and green pepper in butter till soft and then add meat, browning it. Add tomatoes and broth. Cover and simmer on low heat at least 30 minutes. Blend water, corn-starch and soy sauce. Stir into pan until thickened. Some people like to serve it over the rice, but I like to put the rice in the last 5 minutes so that it soaks up the flavor. Remember to cook the wild rice well; otherwise you’ll have venison and hard rocks for supper. Soy sauce adds the needed saltiness, but flavor with salt and pepper to your taste.
* * *
SUNDAY BRUNCH EGG CASSEROLE
This lovely recipe is accredited to Sally Cole in the 1984 e
dition of the Madeline Island Historical Cookbook. I don’t know if they are in print or not anymore. I got my copy from an elderly friend. Its fun to think this was indeed served out on the island, maybe even at St. John’s Church.
INGREDIENTS
2 cans cream of chicken soup
1/2 cup white wine
4 tablespoons minced onions
2 cups shredded Swiss cheese
1 teaspoon prepared brown mustard
12 eggs
1/2 whole milk
12 thick French bread slices, buttered and halved
DIRECTIONS
Combine soup, milk, wine, onion and mustard. Cook, stirring until smooth and heated through. Stir in cheese until melted. Pour 1 cup of sauce into each of two 10 x 16 baking dishes. Break six eggs into sauce in each dish. Carefully spoon remaining sauce around eggs. Stand French bread around edges of casseroles with crusts up. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes or until set. Serves 12.
* * *
JFW (JUST FOR WOMEN) FROZEN SLUSH
Okay, so men can drink it, too, if there is some left over. Just think of this as what women drink when they want to get together and let their hair down.
INGREDIENTS
3 1/2 cup water
6 small cans frozen lemonade
1 cup sugar
1/2 quart vodka
2 tea bags, or 2 teaspoons instant tea
6 small cans frozen orange juice
DIRECTIONS
Stir water and sugar until dissolved, boiling a short time. (Not too much!) Put tea bags into the sugar water. Let stand until cool. Add orange juice, lemonade and vodka. Freeze overnight or longer. Stir every once in a while, if you think of it. Recipe freezes to a slush. To serve, pull out pretty glasses (I warned you it was for the girls), and put 1-2 tablespoons in glass, then fill with a sour mix.