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Barbara insisted that Marion and the children clean up the tent and their clothes while she dug, since she was the sturdiest of them. After their expected protestations subsided, Marion agreed, and she told the children they could go play when their work was done. The children’s version of getting their work done and Marion’s version were vastly different but soon the tent was aired out, their sleeping bags were hanging on the line to air, their dirty clothes were hung up, and the children were chasing each other around the meadow. Marion was amazed how much work Barbara got done while she did the camp chores. She hadn’t liked how the jobs were assigned, but she knew her partner was right. Barbara was bigger and stronger and could dig more than the rest of them.
“Is the ground easier?” Marion asked as she came up to the widening hole, picking up her own shovel to help.
“The rain loosened the dirt. I’m just glad it drained fast, and we don’t have a mud hole,” she said from her position in the bottom as she pulled down more of the edges, widening the hole to where they had stretched their strings.
“Maybe we’ve bit off more than we can chew?” Marion fretted.
“Absolutely,” Barbara agreed and then smiled to show she wasn’t worried. She continued her slow and methodical digging, throwing up shovels full of rich, dark dirt. “This should make for great gardening when we dig up part of the meadow for our seeds.”
“What seeds?” Marion asked as she got down in the hole with her own shovel, put on her gloves, and began digging sideways to widen it. They didn’t need to be under each other’s feet.
“I packed a bunch of seeds for the garden, so we wouldn’t have to buy them up here. We’ll decide when it’s best to plant them.” As an afterthought she added, “after it warms up.”
They chatted as they dug steadily. Each stopped now and then to get up out of the deepening hole and check on the children. Admonishing them to stay in the meadow, they were surprised when the children, on their own, began to pile up rocks.
“Thank you. I’m really proud of you,” Marion told her two.
“Atta boy,” Barbara encouraged her own son.
As the island dried out, they watched the clouds begin rolling in, threatening more rain. That night, they were warm and dry, but the fog was cold, and they were all in sweaters, woolen socks, and even wore mittens.
“Maybe we came out too early in the season?” Marion fussed, trying to warm up her feet by rubbing her socks together beneath the sleeping bag.
“We have so much to do, and it would have rained all spring anyway. We just have to make do until we can get some of the work done,” Barbara consoled her, reaching out to squeeze her arm and show her support. They had both lathered lotions on their hands, which were blistering from the work despite wearing gloves. They had known this wasn’t going to be easy, and while they had been mentally prepared, the reality was the blisters, aches, and pains.
Still, bit by bit, they were getting little things done. The children could only help so much as they were too young, but they were good about spotting things on the beach. They weren’t allowed to go down by themselves, but the adults checked on their boat daily, to make sure it was okay and hadn’t been thrown on the rocks by the storms rolling in from the west. After the first rain, they had to bail out a lot of water, so they learned to stretch a tarp across the top of the boat to keep the rain out. The good thing about the storms was the bounty it brought them. A friendly competition was building between them all as they brought boards, planks, and even an unbroken window up from their beach. Sweeping the beach became a challenge and they all enjoyed the camaraderie.
“We should really take the boat out, so it doesn’t just rust in the cove as we build. We could check some of our other beaches,” Marion suggested after their first week there. All they had done basically was work, or so it seemed.
“Don’t we have to worry about the rocks and the reefs?” Barbara fretted. They were so far from civilization, and it worried her. Maybe this had been a mistake. Still, she wouldn’t say that aloud.
“We’ll be careful as we learn our island,” Marion promised. She had been reading the tide books, learning when they would be high or low and how the moon affected them. She’d already determined they would have to build a pier after their cabin was finished, so the boat would be free of low tide. In addition, it could be used for a fee by any visitors who wanted to tie up in their sheltered cove.
Everyone wore their life preservers as they carefully drove the boat around the island, looking over their beaches and watching for anything floating or washed up on these little spits of land. It was quite fascinating to know they owned the entire island. It was also dangerous if they didn’t watch the rocks, and more than once they heard a scraping that caused them alarm. This taught them to watch the waves, the current, as well as the more obvious things like white water. Still, they were compiling quite a collection of items.
“Think the ocean could send us something like chickens?” Barbara lamented as she fished a coop out of the rocks one day.
“Is it useable?” Marion asked, indicating the coop as she carefully drove the boat.
“I think it may be,” Barbara responded.
“Can we have chickens?”
“How about a kitten?”
“I thought you said we would get a dog?”
The kids started in, but Marion shushed them and their exuberance. “We need to have a home for them before we get them.” Still, she worried they would run out of time as the season passed quickly.
Their new basement had come to a sudden and unexpected end. It was only six feet deep, but apparently the meadow had built up over time and was now sitting on a shelf of granite. When it rained, the water found underground channels that ran off the large shelf. They dug the entire basement down to this slightly uneven shelf and then began placing rocks along the walls, one rock high, before they finally admitted they needed to go back to the mainland to get cement and other supplies. Covering the hole with a large tarp, they hoped no rain or animals would get into it as they began to plan their trip to town. The children were excited.
“Do you think we can afford to buy...?” each of them started as they made their lists. It was a common phrase. They had allotted a certain amount to spend on this trip, and Barbara was determined they would stay within the budget.
“Aren’t we going to build with all the wood we found?” Brian asked, looking at the growing pile on the side of the meadow.
“Of course, but we need other kinds of wood too.”
“I thought we were going to have a log cabin?” Richard asked, having listened in on many conversations between the two women.
“That too,” his mother assured him, leaning over to ruffle his hair.
“Shouldn’t you be cutting trees down?” Brian asked, looking at Barbara and not his own petite mother.
“Yes, we should look for dead ones first, or ones that have fallen and are leaning against other trees,” she explained to the children, turning it into a teaching moment.
“Why?” Brenda was the one that asked the inevitable question when Barbara didn’t continue.
“Because some of those trees are seasoned and would be perfect for our cabin. We must be careful they haven’t rotted though. We don’t want bugs. If they are on the ground, they are more likely to be something we can’t use on the cabin. They might make good firewood though,” she said enthusiastically as she expounded on what she knew. “We are going to want to leave some where they lie as well since the rot is good for the forest.” She explained how it provided a home for bugs, rodents, birds, and once it started to compost, it provided nutrients to other trees and plants. The children were fascinated.
They started out early the following day with their lists, waiting for the sun to rise before casting off. All the children were checked and rechecked as their mothers made sure their vests were fastened, much to their disgruntlement. With their own vests safely on as well, the family headed out carefully through the passage to the open ocean. They steered toward their nearest neighbor island before veering off and using the other islands as landmarks as they made their way to Franklin. They were pleased how quickly the trip went with the tides in their favor and the weather so nice. They waved to the early morning ferry and the passengers that were awake waved back. Tying off the boat, Barbara and Marion were hard-pressed to keep up with their children as they ran to the truck and got in. Barbara unhooked the trailer and checked the tires before getting in to drive.
“Where to first?” she asked, her own list in hand as she saw Marion with hers. She lit two cigarettes before driving off, handing one to her girlfriend, who took a drag from hers with an audible satisfied sigh. It was impossible to smoke on the boat with the ocean winds.
“Can we go–?” the children started, but they were shushed by the adults, who had things they needed to get done.
One of the first places they went to was the lumber yard to price some of the supplies they needed.
“Everything is so expensive,” Marion breathed to Barbara as they examined some of the things they would need, comparing them to what they had seen back in the village near Boston.
“Well, we are a long way from big cities where people use more of this,” she agreed. It was going to blow their budget if she bought everything here. They settled for the concrete they needed and then worried about getting sand to mix it with.
“You dem dames that bought Whimsical Island?” the man at the lumberyard asked as they checked out. He started to light a cigar, something both women thought was dangerous with all the wood about.
“I am not a dame,” Marion said loftily, angry at having been addressed as such. Barbara looked thunderous, ready to hit the man.
“I was just bustin’ yer chops,” he grinned cheekily. “Ya don’t need to buy no sand. Ya got plenty of sand on dem islands. Ya just gotta look.” He turned out to be a nice guy and explained how to mix the concrete, how much sand they needed, and how much grit they could use. He even helped to load the heavy bags into the back of the truck. “Ya two got some moxie taking on an island like that,” he complimented them as they finished up.
“Thank you,” Marion said as she got in the truck. She still sounded a little frosty, irked at being called a dame.
“You know anyone looking to get rid of some chickens or other livestock?” Barbara asked him since he had been friendlier.
“Rid of? Nooo,” he said in slow way and then smiled around the disgusting cigar he had in his mouth. “But cha could go see Granny Lavender, that widder woman. She got chickens.”
“And where would we find her?” Barbara asked, trying to be pleasant. Understanding him was getting more and more difficult as he chewed on the end of the cigar as he puffed. She repressed a shudder looking at the soggy thing.
He gave them directions and saw them on their way.
“Is this it?” Marion asked as they made their way to what looked like a junkyard. She was immediately suspicious of the man and his motives. She was still fuming at being called a dame.
“There is someone. I’ll ask,” Barbara answered, seeing a fairly young woman pottering around among the rusting stoves, beds, cars, and other things spread out over at least half an acre that they could see. Everywhere they looked was all overgrown with weeds. “Excuse me, ma’am. We’re looking for Granny Lavender? She’s a widow?” She was certain there couldn’t be two little old ladies that would fit that description.
The woman stood up stiffly from the work she was doing and said, “I’m Grady Lavender, and I’m a widow.”
Realizing her mistake immediately, Barbara apologized. The man at the lumberyard, with his disgusting cigar, had gotten the name wrong. “I am so sorry. That’s the name we thought we were given.” She quickly changed the subject. “I understand you have chickens for sale?” Barbara stopped the truck and parked. Marion and the children looked out their windows at the woman and her junk.
“I usually do have chickens for sale but somethin’ got in and killed my best rooster. You know how hard it is to raise a good rooster?”
“I’m sure it is difficult.” Sensing the woman was annoyed with the misunderstanding over her name, Barbara was inspired enough to add, “A good rooster is the heart of your flock, isn’t it?”
“Damn right,” the woman swore, startling both women. Looking over the truck with the three children pressing their faces against the back window and the other woman in the front seat with her cigarette, she squinted her eyes. “I tell you, one of my neighbors got two roosters and won’t sell me one. You get me one of them there roosters, and I’ll sell you an entire setting!”
Barbara considered. She didn’t know how much an entire setting was and glanced at Marion, who shrugged slightly and then returned her attention to the window and the woman, who was leaning on her hoe. “Well, that sounds like a mighty fine deal. We’re homesteading on Whimsical Island and–”
“You them city gals from Boston?” she interrupted to ask.
“Yes, this is my partner, Marion, and I’m Barbara Jenkins. These are our children, and we’re building a cabin out on the island.”
“That takes some moxie,” she told them. They were surprised to hear that expression for the second time that day. “I bet you need all sorts of thangs,” Grady drawled, glancing around at the junk between them. “You get me that there rooster, and I can work out a trade or two that would benefit you.”
Unsure whether the woman was crazy or not, Barbara glanced at Marion, who was hard-pressed not to laugh as she blew her smoke out the window. She turned back to the woman and said, “Where is this neighbor with the rooster?”
She directed them down the road, and they drove on, pulling into a small farm set among a beautiful stand of tall evergreens. Its red barn was well-maintained, and the fields looked lush and green. A man came out of the barn as his dogs set up barking at their truck.
“Stay here,” Barbara told the children as she got out of the truck. Marion got out on her side, stubbing out her cigarette. “Hi there. I’m looking to buy chickens, and I understand you may have a rooster?”
“I’m Ira Boehm,” the man introduced himself. “I do have a rooster for sale.” It was a big, black thing that looked positively dangerous. He sold it to them for the outrageous sum of a few dollars. Neither woman knew if they had been taken, but he put it in a crate for them, and they loaded it in the back of the truck. He explained he didn’t have a lot of chickens since something had gotten into his flock and he’d lost a lot them this last year, but he had the extra rooster.
“We sure appreciate it,” they told him, not mentioning Grady Lavender as they drove away with the rooster in the back.
“Do you think we got took?” Marion asked, looking at the children, who had their noses plastered to the back window of the truck looking out at the crated rooster. It had tried to peck the man, and it had tried to peck them too through the crate slats. It seemed vicious.
“I have no idea, but we’re getting to know people outside of Franklin?” she suggested with a tone of humor in her voice. The people were certainly colorful.
They took the rooster back to the junkyard, and as they got out, Grady Lavender came up and asked, “You got ‘im?” She looked positively excited to see the crate with the vicious, black rooster.
“We did,” Barbara told her, getting out her side of the truck as Marion got out on her side. The children got out without being asked and watched as the three women unloaded the crate and gently set it on the ground amongst the overgrown grass and debris.
“I can’t tell ya how happy this makes me,” Grady told them. “I’ll tell ya what, I’ll throw in a couple more than the settin’ I promised ya, and I’ll let ya have a couple of dozen eggs now to seal the deal.” She hurried off before they could say anything, and the two women exchanged an amused look at the woman’s excitement. She returned with a couple dozen eggs in cartons. “Now, a couple of these are double yoked, so you get even more!” she said in her odd, enthusiastic voice.
As they waited, they had looked around, seeing several stoves and bedsteads they could have used that were rusting out here in the elements. They’d exchanged numerous looks, wondering what the other was thinking.
“Is that a wood splitter?” Barbara asked Marion as she pointed out a set of wedges that were rusting in the weeds.
As Grady came up with the eggs, she handed them to Marion and overheard Barbara’s question. “Yep, them wedges will split a tree right down its center. Me husband used them until his death, God rest his soul,” she said, making the sign of the cross before continuing, “He even invented a machine that’ll split bigger logs.”
“Bigger logs?” Barbara asked, curious and thinking ahead to their own needs. They needed to split logs to build their cabin. They’d planned to use wedges and had purchased some from Montgomery Wards before they found the tool sets at Sears.
Grady proudly showed them a gadget that forced an attached wedge into the wood and moved it through the center of the log with a corkscrew that they turned slowly. “Barney said it would work for logs up to four feet through!” she told them excitedly.
“Hmmm, could you explain how it works?” Barbara asked, trying not to get too excited, but anything that would help them with the enormous amount of work they had waiting for them would be welcome.
She demonstrated proudly as it was her husband’s clever invention. It forced the wedge through the log.
“What’s the longest log it handled?” Barbara asked, envisioning uses for the contraption. Marion nudged her shoulder, wondering at her interest in the rusty junk in this woman’s yard. She frowned, waiting for an explanation, but Barbara shook her head as she watched Grady’s demonstration.
They discussed its relative merits and then, because Grady was acting so proprietary about it, Barbara dropped it in order to move on to other things that captured her interest, like the many stoves and bed frames. Grady asked about their island and what they planned to do with it. They couldn’t tell her much as their plans were still relatively tentative beyond building some summer cabins for people to use to get away.
“Well, I’m sure you can use my husband’s log splitter, but I want ‘er back, and I’ll raise them there chickens for ya,” she generously offered. “I know some folks who have sheep as well, but this time of year is when they’re waiting on their young, so the best time to buy is after they’re shaved or have the lambs. A couple I know over there a ways got some pups comin’ on, and I know you’re gonna need kitties ain’t ya?”
When Grady mentioned pups and kitties, she got the attention of the children, who had to be repeatedly admonished not to play with anything. Barbara exchanged a look with Marion, who suddenly looked hopeful as she realized this woman, despite being surrounded by junk, was a valuable source of information.
“Well, we will have to do it all piecemeal. We don’t have the money to just build it all, and of course, getting some of this heavier stuff out to the island is going to take time,” she admitted, caressing one of the stoves she’d admired and would have liked to obtain.
Grady saw a lot more than people gave her credit for. Her husband might have hauled all this junk in here, but she knew all about it. She helped load the wedges and cables in the back of the truck. “You drop on by when you’re next in Franklin, and I’ll let you know when the chicks are ready to go. Build a sturdy coop in the meantime,” she advised, “so no varmints can get in and kill yer chickens.” She was extremely pleased about the rooster they had managed to obtain for her. She’d explained that people thought she was crazy since her husband’s untimely death. Hearing that both Marion and Barbara were ‘widow women’ too seemed to endear them to her, and she was quite helpful and friendly.
“Bye, bye,” they called as they pulled away.
“How did you know?” Marion murmured as she didn’t want the children to overhear them. She was carefully cradling the eggs, looking forward to making scrambled eggs the next morning or maybe even that night for dinner.
“Something told me to keep her talking, and there were things we could use in that yard, even if they were secondhand.”
They’d brought their hand-propelled lawnmower with them, and it stood under their tarp on the island. Presently, it was useless, like a lot the junk in that woman’s yard, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t come in handy at some point.
They pulled into another farmer’s yard where Grady had directed them. Several dogs announced their arrival and Marion, to the children’s dismay, ordered them to stay in the truck. She gently and carefully put the eggs under her seat in case any of them climbed into the front seat. She didn’t want their eggs to get smashed.
“Hello there,” someone called as he came from the barn and the two women got out of the truck.
“Hello,” the two women responded together, then looked at each other briefly and started to laugh.
Marion spoke first this time, asking, “I understand you might have some dogs or cats for sale? Maybe pups or kittens?” The children heard her clearly and not realizing at first why they were going to this farm, they now hung out the windows, avidly listening and trying to catch every word.
“Oh, who told you that?” he asked, looking at them and their truck slightly suspiciously.
“Grady Lavender,” Barbara put in, watching the man’s reaction.
At first, he looked surprised, then briefly confused, and then, he smiled in welcome. “Well, I’ll be. I thought she didn’t like me,” he murmured. Then, realizing he had an audience, he turned the smile on them and said, “I do indeed have a litter of pups that were born early this spring, and there are kittens as well as full grown cats, if you’re lookin’.”
“Is it okay if my children get out of the truck? I didn’t want them running around if you think they might bother the animals,” Marion asked politely. She was already petting a dog that looked odd with its black and white coat, a mask across its one eye, and spots throughout its coat. Its long tail wagged happily as she petted it. Two other dogs came over when they saw it getting petted, and she soon had her hands full.
“Get away there, dogs,” the farmer said affectionately. “Sure, your children can come out. The dogs will love them.”
At this, the children, who had been listening, opened the truck doors and clambered out. Soon, they too were petting the mostly long-haired dogs, who were panting happily at the attention.
“You new abouts here?” he asked, watching the children indulgently.
“We just moved up here from Massachusetts, and it was recommended we get dogs to help on our place and cats to keep the mice down,” Barbara told him, watching how happy the children were with the dogs.
“Ya can’t beat a good dog on the place,” he agreed as he began leading them back into the barn. “I have this batch of pups that are ready to go. I keep them in the stall, or they’d be all over running about and getting up to all sorts of mischief.” He showed them the black and white pups with the same lengthening hairs, which proved they were all the same breed as the adult dogs that had greeted them. The children were allowed in the enclosed stall and were soon playing joyfully with the pups. “I have some kittens somewhere about,” he said as he began to look in the hay in another area. He soon came out with two large kittens and handed them to the two women, who immediately began petting them.
“Aren’t they cute?” Marion said, thrilled to be petting the big, gray kitten with long hair and big, gray-blue eyes. He started purring loudly.
“Look at this one,” Barbara murmured in reply, cuddling the little orange tiger.
“Massachusetts, you say?” he asked, continuing the conversation from outside the barn.
He had also heard of the two widow women, only he referred to them as spinsters, which had them all grinning. Neither of the women could be considered spinsters after having been married and producing children. Still, it showed they were the talk of the small community.
“How much do you want for the kittens?” Barbara asked after they chatted a while. She saw the children’s heads come up hopefully. They discussed the various attributes of the cats, then the dogs, and before they knew it, they were leaving the farm with two kittens, a dog, and a pup. The dog was too old for breeding, and while he would be sorry to lose the older bitch, he had plans to keep some of the pups himself and didn’t want interbreeding. The full-grown dog seemed surprised to find herself in the truck but was game to go. She liked sitting with the children, and while it wasn’t her pup sharing their laps, she nudged it now and then to show it wasn’t alone since it no longer had its litter mates. It cried for a bit, but she comforted it.
“We really didn’t need all this,” Marion murmured as she held one of the kittens on her lap and tried to keep the other one from bothering Barbara as they drove back to the pier.
“I know, but opportunity knocked, and we took advantage,” Barbara said happily. No, they didn’t need more mouths to feed, but several nights she had been frightened by the noises on their island, and she worried about protecting the children. While she had her husband’s hunting rifle, she hadn’t unpacked it yet. She knew Marion had a gun her husband had left her too but had no idea where it was. Seeing a rat on the island one morning, she knew they needed the cats for sure and possibly the dogs to help keep wild animals at bay.
“I hope we don’t regret this,” Marion murmured as she cuddled the two sleepy kittens, who didn’t seem to mind the more boisterous puppy in the back seat making noises with the children. Twice, Barbara had to shush the children. The dog seemed to take these admonitions personally as she looked from Barbara to the children and lowered her head guiltily.
They stopped at the local store and Marion handed the kittens to the children, warning them to be quiet while they popped into the store and picked up some supplies. They were out of cigarettes, and she bought several packets for them both. Despite being as quick as possible, Barbara had to go back out to settle down the children, who were being too boisterous with their new animals. She ended up taking the kittens into the front seat and waiting for Marion to come out.
“That was an expensive trip,” she murmured as she got in after putting the boxes of supplies in the back of the truck. She handed Barbara a pack of cigarettes, opening her own and pulling one out to light it. By the time Barbara got her pack open, Marion was ready to light it for her.
“Just the groceries, or are you talking about the animals too?” Barbara asked as she started up the truck, a cigarette dangling from her lip.
“Yes,” she answered with a grin. She took a deep drag of her cigarette, relaxing as the smoke filled her lungs.
Barbara returned the grin around her own cigarette; glad they were both in such good moods.
They put the supplies in the front of the boat along with the bags of cement to keep away any salt spray on their way back to the island. As they loaded the kittens, the pup, and the children on the boat, the dog looked warily at the boat. Marion noticed a pile of pallets near one of the piers farther down and headed that way.
“Be right back,” she called as she left, the dog going with her since it was tied to the rope she was holding. Calling to someone on their boat, she talked to them a while. Barbara frowned, wondering at the delay and admonishing the children to be careful with the pup and kittens. She couldn’t hear what Marion was saying but soon saw her gesture her over, so she made her way down their pier.
“Hi there. These kind folks said we can have these pallets and all the future pallets they get their supplies on. They also know a couple people who might have pallets we can have. They’ll stack them up at the end of our pier, if we pick them up every couple of days.”
Barbara could have kissed her then and there. This sure would be handy; the cut wood could be pulled apart and used for a variety of things. She smiled her thanks, nodding to them and began to carry one of the pallets, Marion struggling with another as they took them back to their own pier and then carried them out to the boat.
“What are those for, Mom?”
“Can we help?”
The children interest was distracted for a moment, then they turned back to the animals, obviously more interested in them as Barbara fastened first one and then another pallet to the boat while Marion went back for another and put it on the dock. Barbara hurried to help her, and they brought two more over. Soon, the pile was gone.
“We’ll send more over,” the man on the other boat assured them, silently amused by these city girls. Then. he shrugged it off. It wasn’t his look out, and they did have to get rid of these pallets. Usually, they took them home and burned them. This would save them all that work.
“This is an excellent idea,” Barbara praised Marion as she fastened the others to the first and stacked them on top.
“I thought we could pull them apart, if all else fails, and use the wood for something.”
“The dock?”
“Or inside the cabin?”
They made plans for the rich, precut wood, which was a bonus. Pallets had been made in various sizes and shapes, but during the war, they became more commonly used by the army for the supply of weapons, food, etc. for the troops. Now, businesses were using them...and discarding them after use. Wood was cheap, efficient, and replaceable.
Their load wasn’t heavy on the way back, but it was awkward with the pallets on the bow of the boat. It also looked like a storm was coming up, and Barbara carefully maneuvered her way around the various islands until heading out to sea. They were all relieved to see the island come into sight, especially the dog, who hadn’t really wanted to get into the boat. She was the first to jump out when the boat went up on the beach. Off her lead, she quickly went into the woods to squat and take a pee.
“We are going to have to think up names for all these animals,” Barbara teased the children as she grabbed one box of groceries that Marion had purchased and handed the other to her partner. Each of the children had a kitten and one had a puppy.
“I think that puppy needs to get down and go to the bathroom with its aunt.”
“She’s his aunt?” Brenda asked, wide-eyed, holding the gray kitten proprietarily.
“Yep, she is. Wish we had asked the farmer her name.”
They tied off the boat and carried the groceries up the slope and put them away. The children introduced the kittens to their campsite, and the puppy gamboled about, smelling everything and peeing at will. The female dog followed them closely, almost as though she feared they would abandon her on this island with the children. Marion and Barbara carried the heavy bags of cement up to the meadow, one by one, and quickly put them away under the tarp, so they wouldn’t get wet. The storm was coming from the east and looked to be a doozy with its dark black, ominous clouds. They made several trips until all the heavy bags were put away and then, Marion checked the ties of the boat as Barbara made sure it was well covered, so no more water would get inside the boat. They wrapped everything up tight, piling the pallets under the trees.
“Whew, that was a workout,” Marion complained good-naturedly, stretching her tired muscles, pleased with their day. She hadn’t planned on the animals, but maybe Barbara was right about that. The children certainly were happy about them. Those bags of cement had been heavy, and Barbara didn’t even seem winded.
“We’ll sleep well tonight,” Barbara answered, nearly tripping over the female dog, who was following them very closely. “What’s the matter, old girl?” she addressed her. “I’m sorry he got rid of you, but I’m glad you’re with us now. You seem like a nice girl.” They’d actually paid less for her than the pup since the farmer considered her too old to breed. The pup, unrelated to her, was a male and should grow up bigger than her. She was very pretty with the long feathers of hair on her.
“I bet she misses her home,” Marion said sadly, feeling bad for the dog, as they trudged up the slope one more time.
“Well, this will be home soon. We’ll have to go over some names tonight.”
They’d picked up a camp stove and fired that up to make their dinner of scrambled eggs and fresh toast since they now had bread again. They’d picked up food for the animals as well and fed them in their own bowls.
“No, no,” Marion warned the pup, who tried to eat the kitten’s food.
“We have to put that food up in those bear containers, so that pup doesn’t get it all. He’s a glutton.” Barbara laughed at the pup’s antics even if they were annoying.
“What’s a glutton?” Richard asked, trying to finish his own food.
“Someone or something that eats it all or is greedy.”
“They usually refer to a wolverine as a glutton,” Marion further clarified. She was so happy they had these educational opportunities. She had read through the children’s reader for the boys just the other night, knowing Brenda could keep up with the children’s lessons, no problem. She was going to be giving them that information in the coming days and then have them go through their own readers.
The rain started right after dinner, and they retreated to the safety of the tent. The kittens snuggled down, but the pup was up and down all night, waking the two adults with his antics. The female dog had decided that Barbara was her person and wanted to lay with her. She tried a couple of names to see if the dog would respond. Coming up with Feathers hadn’t been hard, but now, the dog had a name and seemed grateful for it.
The other dog they had decided to name Barkley because of his propensity for barking. The kittens, which were escape artists but came back frequently as they explored their surroundings, they named Grey and Tiger, not very original but apt.
“I should be jealous of the dog,” Marion whispered as Feathers crawled up on Barbara’s sleeping bag to snuggle in.
“I’d rather it was you,” Barbara mouthed back, barely whispering. They’d had no time alone and both desperately wanted some. The children were around all the time, and there simply was no way to express their desire for each other. They were both young, healthy, and in the prime of their lives, and both wanted to make love to one another.
Theirs was an uneasy sleep as every ‘larger than normal’ raindrop seemed to get the pup up. Occasionally, he would growl, and once or twice, he barked. Barbara used Feathers as her gauge, and nothing seemed to bother the older dog.
The rain was gone the next morning, but it was cold. They could see their breath in the chill of the morning air. Barbara was anxious to use their new wedge, but instead, they decided to mix the concrete and put the rocks in the basement. Trying to find sand proved impossible, even after they carefully drove the boat around the island looking for a sandy beach.
“Where in the world do you think it is?” Marion asked, becoming alarmed at how long it was taking to find sand. They had reluctantly left the children on their own beach with the pets but hurried back to tie off the boat and cover it up again when they didn’t find the necessary sand.
Barbara slipped on the gravel-strewn beach, going down hard and laughing at herself. She realized what a fortuitous fall it was when her boot pushed aside some gravel and uncovered the very sand they had been looking for. “Look at this!” she said, showing Marion what she had uncovered.
“And we wasted how much time and gas looking for it? It was here all the time!” she exclaimed, grabbing one of the buckets and shovels they had taken to fill.
As they dug down, they realized it would fill with water soon and decided to see if there was more sand farther up the beach. Sure enough, the entire beach was covered with sand that was hidden by heavier and larger stones. All they had to was pull aside the stones to find the sand they needed. They carried their heavy pails up the trail they were making to the meadow, followed closely by Feathers. It was difficult traveling as the trail was slippery in several places, but they were relieved to finally see the children and the pets.
The children liked the idea of mixing the cement and were eager to help keep it mixed. They were even willing to fetch heavy water pails to make the mix. Slowly, the women put rocks on top of the mix in the basement, building their walls. Using a board to keep the rocks held tightly against the dirt until the cement had a chance to dry and take hold, they built up one wall at a time, one layer at a time. One of the walls sagged, and they quickly learned not to mix the mortar so weakly. Instead, they created a paste to smear between the stones. Once the walls started going up, a ladder had to be used as the two adults couldn’t hop easily in and out of the hole. The children eagerly handed down the heavy stones, some as big as their heads. More than one of the stones smashed down on their hard granite base.
“At least we don’t have to pour the floor,” Barbara said optimistically as the work progressed. She was anxious to start cutting trees. Washing up every night in their water supply had resulted in a second basin away from their drinking supply. Using the last of the cement, Barbara made a better set of dams for their drinking water and wash basins.
“Aren’t you clever?” Marion teased with a smile, proud of the idea and looking forward to what else they would be able to do together.
“I need a bath,” Barbara admitted. While the water was cold and refreshing, washing up wasn’t the same as soaking in a tub. They added a tub to the growing list of things they wanted for their cabin, having no idea how to install the plumbing. They did have a book, ‘Plumbing for Beginners,’ that they had both read but didn’t quite understand without the diagrams. Putting it into practice would be a whole new experience for them both as they learned.
“How are we going to get the water from here,” she indicated the spring, “to there?” she gestured towards the other end of the meadow where they were building their cabin under the large maple trees.
“We’ll figure it out,” Barbara dismissed, not willing to worry about it when they were just finally finishing the basement.
They ended up bailing water out of their basement the next day when the rains returned, hard and lashing. Spending the day in the tent with smelly, wet dogs and fidgeting kids was not fun. The dogs were worse than the kids about going in and out, and as a result, the bottom of the tent was covered with tracked-in mud and grass.
“No, you can’t go out. You’ve already been out,” was heard repeatedly.
The rain lasted three days, and by then, they were all ready to kill each other. Bailing out the basement required a lot of work, but Barbara had a pump among their supplies, and they managed to keep it going while the children played with the pup and kittens.
“Something is going to get those kittens, if we aren’t careful,” Marion worried until she saw how adroitly they climbed trees.
“Well, a mink won’t hesitate to kill if it can,” Barbara reminded her of that day long ago when they saw the furry creature.
The children, when not restricted to staying indoors, were having a fun time with no regimented school time or bath time and plenty of outdoor fun. Now, with the puppy and kittens to play with, they were having a ball. Both Marion and Barbara wanted them to help as much as they were able but didn’t want them too exhausted from helping. They wore themselves out quite well by playing. The women were relieved that everyone was out of their hair, so they could get things done. They’d have to wash their bedclothes and string them up on the first clear day. Getting the mud out of the tent would be harder. They had to let that air out as well. Five people, two canines, and two kittens tended to create a lot of body odors and not all of them were pleasant.
“We came out too early,” Marion decided as they determined which trees to fell, looking for the seasoned trees as Barbara had suggested.
“Well, be that as it may, we’re here, and we have to make do with what we have.”
Felling that first tree, they thought they would have it made. It was more difficult than either of them anticipated, and once it was down, they had to remove the branches and cut it into useful lengths. This first one was over twenty feet long and heavy because it was seasoned, hard, and solid. Getting it up the slope using tackle was nearly impossible. Finally, they had it in the meadow, and Barbara, in an attempt at humor said, “Well, that’s one.” The look she got from Marion could have killed her on the spot. One day and only one tree was not the schedule either wanted to keep. Still, they managed to hook up the splitting apparatus, and after altering its original intent, managed to start the wedges down the middle of the tree, twisting the cable until it pulled the wedge up the crack they were making. It took until evening to get that one log split.
“Oh, my God. I didn’t think we’d ever get it done,” Marion gasped as the two pieces fell apart.
“Do you want to try to get it over the basement?” Barbara asked, knowing this was going to be a big cross piece.
“No, I want to bring up that other piece we cut, so we have a post in the middle to support it.”
“It’s getting dark,” Barbara warned unnecessarily, watching the children endlessly running around the meadow before they would come in to eat and sleep later.
“I know it’s getting dark.” Marion’s shoulders sagged, defeated. This was just so hard, and she hadn’t expected...Building it all on their own had seemed like such a wonderful idea. Her hands were blistered, and they hadn’t even started digging up the garden yet, much less planted anything. The cabin was way behind schedule. “You’re right. We should eat dinner and do it in the morning.”
Barbara got up from where she was untangling the cables of the log splitter, so they could use it again when they had another log. She put her hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder and said, “It will get there.”
“I know it will. It’s just taking so much time. Maybe we bit off more than we can chew?”
“Yes, we did, but here we are, and we’ll make it.”
They washed up at the dam, the water stinging their blistered hands, and then they started dinner. When the food was ready, they brought the children and puppy in to wash up. The puppy just drank as much water as he could as he panted happily.
“What are you doing?” Barbara asked the boys, who both had their pants down and were peeing at each other into their water supply.
“Crossing swords,” Brian answered, laughing.
“What in the world?” Marion gasped. “You stop that right now!” she yelled at her son. “Pull up your pants,” she told them both.
“You do not expose yourself in public like that. Furthermore, not in front of your sister!” Barbara told them, amused but not willing to show it.
“She’s not my sister,” Richard tried to argue.
“That’s worse!” his mother told him. “Are you going to drink that water now that you’ve peed into it?”
Startled, both boys looked at the water in the dam and shook their heads.
“You were told to pee over by that tree we designated as the latrine, so no one would step in anything they shouldn’t,” Marion continued the lecture, furious at what they had done in front of Brenda.
“But Barkley pees everywhere...” Brian tried to argue.
“He’s a dog!” his mother retorted. “He doesn’t know any better, but you should. You don’t do that in public where anyone could see you, and you certainly do not do that in front of your sister.”
Both boys, worried that they would have to drink from the water now that they were made aware of it, looked ashamed.
“I have some water in my tub for you to use. Go wash up, and I don’t want you to ever pee in our water supply again. You use the latrine!” Barbara told them angrily. “If I catch you doing something like that again, I’m going to cut a switch and use it on your behinds!”
“You wash up too, Brenda,” Marion told the little girl, who had been ready to pull down her pants too but was distracted watching the two boys have their ‘sword’ fight. “What are we going to do with them?” Marion turned to ask her partner, who she could see was amused and disgusted at the same time.
“We are going to make them bail out this dam and that dam and the pools tonight while we finish dinner,” Barbara told her. “All we can do is address things like this as they occur. I would never have thought to talk to them before this happened. Who’d have thought they would do something like this?” She chuckled and shook her head.
Marion tried to find the humor but was more mortified. She knew she was tired and needed a good night’s sleep. They headed back to camp to inform the boys to take buckets and bail out the two pools, so they would have clean, fresh water in them tomorrow.
“Where should we pour the buckets?” Brian asked, looking concerned at the amount of work they had just been assigned and worried about his dinner.
“On the grass outside the pools. Pour away from the pool, so it doesn’t drain back in,” Barbara told him.
“It’s getting dark.” Richard was apprehensive. His stomach growled, and he looked to where the food was laid out waiting for them to eat.
“Then, you better hurry up and get them both bailed out before it gets dark, or you’ll have to do it again tomorrow until I’m satisfied that the water is all new from the spring and not tainted with your pee!”