Howl's Twisted Castle

8: Wherever your heart takes you

When Lettie and I were young, our parents often took us to the lake for some quality family time. Mother loved the outdoors, and my father loved her more than anything else, so it was no question where we spent our summers. Rosebay became our family's getaway paradise. It was a small inlet off the beaten path that featured a little island that was just a bit too far away to swim. Naturally our fathers curiosity had him purchasing canoes before long.

I wasn't fond of the idea at first; something about the nature of deep water made me uncomfortable and seeing the murky water up close did horrible things to my imagination. My family was persistent though, and after a few attempts, they had me rowing out on open water. despite my protests.

Mother was a smart woman, and she knew full well that a basket full of home-baked bread and cheese could entice me out onto the water. Lettie and I shared a canoe, and once she helped me conquer my fear of open water, I felt a wonderful sense of freedom on it. I was surprised that as long as I didn't look over the edge, I was perfectly fine in the canoe. Overtime, I even learned to enjoy it. 

One thing was for sure, though. I would never forget the first time we made it to that island.

It was large enough to grow a dozen or so soft fir trees that provided some well-needed shade from the sun. Further out towards the shore, that land turned from a woody earth to sand; its beach littered with smooth, flat pastel coloured pebbles. They were perfect, as my dad pointed out, for skipping because the tides had smoothed them over the years. He demonstrated the right technique, and we spent many afternoons skipping rocks across the water while mom made sure we were well fed.

There was something about being on that island that made me feel removed from the world. I'd close my eyes, let the sun warm my face and pretend this was an island I could call my own.

It's odd how memories like that come back to you.

I'd almost forgotten the summer vacations of my youth, but the site before me brought them rushing back. Cooling spray from the water crashed along the shores, mixing with the air and coating my clothes and my hair with moisture. The breeze surrounded me with the rich earthy scent of the fir trees and as I surveyed the area. It took me a moment to get my bearings, but there was no mistaking it, I was back on the little island in Rosebay.

I ran my hand up the rough bark of a nearby fir and felt the sticky sap that dripped from the tiny holes that birds and bugs had made in it. The dead needles shed from the trees stuck to my feet while I walked around the trees, reminding me of a different time. Lettie hated the way the tree sap stuck in her hair when we played. Mom had to console her by brushing the tangles out with promises of a nice bath when we got home. I didn't care, I loved the raw beauty of nature, even if it was a bit messy.

I stepped out of the trees onto the shoreline where I found the same rounded pebbles scattered across the sand. I picked up a small, pinkish looking one and turned it over and over in my palms as I continued my walk.

I looked over my shoulder at the little wooden shack that brought me here. It wasn't far into the island and it had to be recognizable from the shore, what with its bright red door and all. Markel had mentioned that some people couldn't see the red door though, so it supposed it didn't matter what colour it was. It must have been a new feature to the island, placed by Howl not doubt because I was sure I would have remembered it before now. The bright red door was at odds with the natural landscape.

It was peaceful, being back here so many years later. It felt as though time stood still here. Before long though, my mind began to wander.

What do I do now?

Do I just accept that I'll never go back to my former self?

Can I . . . Can I be okay with that decision?