Grandpa's Cottage

Grandpa's Cottage

Erskin Nevers and I drove up the rutted drive as it
twisted through the birches and raspberry tangle toward
Snake Lake. I looked forward with a little trepidation to
staying overnight at the Nevers cottage.

"They ever catch muskie up here, Erskin?"

"You've got to be kidding. Perch, maybe a largemouth,
but don't expect anything bigger."

"I don't really care. Came up here for the relaxation,
and peace and quiet."

"You won't have trouble finding quiet here. Grandpa
liked it quiet too. Recon that's why he built his cottage
on Snake Lake. Plenty of nature, loons calling, owls
hooting, but no people."

We rounded the last bend and Grandpa's cottage came
into view. It looked its 75 years, weather beaten, missing
shingles, hardly better than Erskin's house in town.

"This is it. Watch that poison ivy."

Steps led to a decrepit porch with a rocker, one arm
broken off. A path through the weeds and poison ivy led to
an outhouse that I really didn't look forward to using.

"Watch the steps --- and those rotted boards. Don't
want to start the weekend with a broken leg."

There was no lock on the door and a screen hung down
from one corner.

We stepped into Grandpa's cottage, and things started
looking up. An old stone fireplace was against the far wall
with cold ashes and partially burned logs. Sunshine beamed
in recently washed windows. A couch smelling of mildew was
at least 75 years old with a dirty army blanket covering
most of the tears.

"Wow, Erskin, that deer head. Rack gone from the one
side. Bet there's a story on that one."

"Yep, Grandpa had that mounted. Found it dead, ---
floating in the lake. Couple of years later mice gnawed off
the antler on the left side. It's around here somewhere."

My gaze moved to a largemouth bass which I figured to
be about a pound. It was a really poor mount with one glass
eye close to falling on the floor. A red and white
Daredevyl spoon with rusting hooks hung from it lips.

"Did Grandpa find that fish floating in the lake?" I
asked sarcastically.

"Naw, Grandpa caught him first time out with the
Enervator. He was a real fisherman."

My gaze swept on past cartoons clipped from magazines,
pictures of sail boats and deer and fishermen, all pinned to
the wall.

"Christ," I said, "will you look at that."

"Gotta ask you not to swear in the cottage. Grandpa
never permitted that."

What had shocked me was the most beautiful canoe I had
ever seen. It was made of narrow strips of light colored
wood. A high gloss finish of marine varnish gleamed in the
sunlight. Near the stern in black paint was the name, The
Enervator. There was not a mark or ding on the entire 16
foot side I was looking at. It was suspended from the
ceiling beams by chains at the bow and the stern.

"Well I'll be damned." I said as I saw it was filled
with dirt, and growing ferns and house plants.

"Don't swear.

"That canoe was his most prized possession. No one but
Grandpa ever took it out. He was afraid they might go in
North Bay where it's all shallow and rocky. He only beached
it in muddy places so's the bottom wouldn't get scratched.
Cleaned it, waxed it, and each winter he gave it a coat of
varnish. When he was riding the Enervator, he said he felt
like the King of Snake Lake.

"Only used it for five years before he sick and died.
From the hospital bed he gave us instructions on what we was
to do with the canoe. The thought of us kids banging up the
gunnels with the paddles, draggin' the bottom through the
sand, scratching her on the brush at Bertrum Narrows, it was
more then he could stand.

"So, here it's hung for nine years. We just water the
plants and keep the dust off. Recon Gramps is mighty happy,
knowin' the Enervator is being cared for."

"Gosh, Erskin, that's a touching story. Your family
must have really loved him, to do all this."

"Well, we did love him. But Gramps said he'd feel a
whole lot better if he were around to make sure. That's why
we buried him in that canoe."

END

Story ID:	418
Written by:	Dick Dunlap (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Fiction
Location:	Rice Lake Wisconsin USA
Year:	2003
Person:	Erskin Nevers