“Let’s take a little drive and see if we can find the hospital,” Evan said.
When he checked on Shaun in the mirror again, he saw that the boy’s attention hadn’t left the lake since it came back into view. Evan turned left at the first stoplight and followed the side street for two blocks before a brick building marked as “Mill River Elementary” appeared. They drove past the school, traveling deeper into what looked like several connected neighborhoods. Just when he was about to turn around, Evan spotted a small sign bearing a blue H with an arrow straight ahead. The road dipped and made a hard left turn before running past a low, glass building set on the right.
Evan coasted into the parking lot but didn’t stop, letting the minivan roll past the automatic front doors of the hospital. Its size and architecture were impressive for a town as small as Mill River. When he’d called the pediatric-therapy department two weeks before, the scheduler he spoke with sounded polite and businesslike. She assured him that they could definitely handle all of Shaun’s therapy needs and told him to stop in for a tour of the facility when they got settled.
“This is it, buddy, this is where you’re going to do some work and play. What do you think?”
Shaun laughed, and Evan guided the van back out of the parking lot and returned to the main street. He hadn’t seen the small marina that Jason had described, so Evan turned left and drove toward the looming church at the top of the hill. A battered sign came into view, a badly drawn bass leaping from an equally childish-looking pond gracing its center, with “Collins Outfitters” arched over the top. Evan turned into the parking lot, which provided an excellent view of Long Lake.
Shaun laughed again, and Evan’s spirits buoyed. Perhaps this had been a good idea. Shaun seemed to love the lake, and the town was picturesque. He sent a silent thanks to Jason, promising himself he would deliver it verbally next time they spoke.
Collins Outfitters consisted of three buildings pieced together by rudely constructed hallways topped with a mixture of shingles and faded tin. The front of the structure had a long overhang, with several benches and chairs stacked beneath it. Two of the chairs were occupied by a pair of men dressed almost identically in faded jeans, red suspenders, and blue chambray work shirts. Even their bald heads glistened the same way, and Evan had to make himself quit staring at the twins, who had to be approaching their eighties. Instead he looked to the right and saw a long, concrete ramp leading down to a makeshift pier and boat landing. Four aluminum fishing boats and a wide pontoon bobbed in the waves beside the long dock. A man and a boy, each clutching fishing rods, stood at its end, casting into the rolling water.
Evan shut the van off and turned to face Shaun. “Ready to go on a boat ride?”
A look of delight lit up Shaun’s face, and he began to fiddle with his seat harness. But his small fingers couldn’t manipulate the two buttons to release the fastener.
“Let me help you,” Evan said, climbing out. He strode around the side of the van and opened Shaun’s door, uncoupling the belts before lifting him from his seat.
Immediately Shaun pointed toward the lake. “Dere?”
“Yep, we’re going out there,” Evan said, walking toward the screen door of the building.
A gust of wind came off the lake and ruffled their hair with the cool touch of spring. Spring breezes always smelled and felt different than autumn winds. There was hope in the air during spring, and only a promise of frost with fall.
“Mornin’ ta ya!”
The voice brought Evan out of his musing, and he stopped a few yards before the door as a man pushed through it. His clean-shaven face beamed, and a pair of coal-black eyebrows stood out beneath a shock of white hair. He held out his hand as he approached.
“Jacob Collins,” he said, shaking Evan’s hand with a callused grip. “You must be Evan.” Jacob’s voice had a Celtic lilt that sounded a little like song when he spoke. “And this must be Shaun.”
He flattened his hand so that Shaun could slap it with his own. After two tries that missed their mark, Evan guided Shaun’s hand onto Jacob’s.
“What a nice smile you’ve got, boyo!” Jacob said, as Shaun grinned. “Jason told me ta look fer ya this mornin’,” he said to Evan.
“Yes, sorry if we’re early,” Evan said. He shifted Shaun into a more comfortable spot against his hip.
“Been up since the crack a dawn, you won’t see me sleepin’ late, specially this time a year. The opener was last weekend, ya know.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. My dad and I used to go out every year. Funny how you forget if you don’t keep the tradition.”
“Aye. Jason’s father, God rest his soul, and I used ta go out each spring together. I’ve known Jason since he was wee-high. He tells me ya grew up side by side?”
Evan smiled. “Yes we did, and that’s a good way to put it, we didn’t spend too much time apart.”
“Jason’s a good lad, and we’re glad ta have ya both up in the north again.”
“Thanks, we’re excited to get settled in, and thank you for agreeing to bring us to the island.”
Jacob waved his words away. “Ain’t nothin’. Now, I’m guessin’ ya got some gear. I’ll have ya back down ta the dock.”
Evan returned to the van and, after placing Shaun in his car seat, reversed the vehicle down to the pier, backing up until Jacob gave him the signal to stop. The rear end of the van was packed full of their belongings, and Evan felt a sense of pride at having managed to fit everything that they needed.
As he and Jacob hauled various suitcases and bags onto the pontoon, Evan surveyed the lake. It was wider than he’d first estimated, at least half a mile across in some places, and when he looked to the left, he couldn’t see its opposite end. Several fishing boats swayed in the swells, their occupants only dots that shifted from time to time, betraying the illusion that they were parts of the crafts.