A walk to the Island ~ February 24, 1994

David Heiller

That’s when Nora and Malika suggested that we walk out to The Island.

We had looked at The Island all weekend from the cabin our two families had rented. It was half a mile away, in the middle of Long Lake, near Spooner, Wisconsin.

The Island was no more than 40 yards long, and it had a big house on it. It drew the two eight-year-olds like a magnet, and I guess it drew me too, because when they asked if they could walk to the island that night, I didn’t hesitate in answering yes.

They each grabbed my hands, and we headed out. A day earlier, the top several inches of ice had melted in a 45-degree thaw. But now it was slick.

Malika and Nora with Carolyn in that weekends cabin.

Nora said it was like glass. She wished she had brought her skates.

I said you’d have to watch those rough spots. My brother, Danny, hit one when he was a kid and broke a tooth off. It was the first time I saw him cry, it hurt so bad. I told the kids that.

The ice would crack every so often, which worried Nora. “If it can hold a car, I guess it can hold us,” I said.

I can’t remember all the other things we talked about, the three of us. Mostly we held hands and chatted. It felt good. Our words weren’t profound, and that is the way it should be. Any heavier conversation and we might have fallen through the ice.

Then we approached The Island, and our pleasant words dwindled. The house loomed on it like a great grey mansion. And I must confess that I told a tale about the house then. I said that the owner, an old lady, had drowned one night. A night just like this. She fell through the ice. I said when the moon came out, you could see her standing in the window in the top floor.

Malika then wanted to go explore it. That explains a lot about Malika.

She let go of my hand, and walked toward the house, to show how brave she was. She put one foot on shore.

Nora and I kept walking. I didn’t try to talk her back to me. I knew better than that. But I wanted to shout, DON’T GO UP THERE! In the moonlight, the house looked like it belonged in an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

Then Malika turned around and ran back to us. I didn’t say a word. But I did breathe a sigh of relief.

We circled around The Island. The house, and our imaginations, returned to normal. I told the girls I was joking about that lady. It was just a story. They said they KNEW that, like how stupid did I think they were?

Malika and Nora.

On our way back, we lay down on the ice and looked at the moon. It had a circle around it, like the moon does on some cold winter nights. None of us knew why. It’s a good mystery.

On shore, the cabin lights glowed with a welcome light. When we got closer, Malika and Nora spotted their two brothers, still playing. We went to The Island! they shouted almost in unison.

The boys shrugged a big deal, but you could tell by the way they shrugged that they were impressed.

Inside the cabin, it was the same thing. The girls proudly recounted the trip to The Island to the moms and dads. I did too.

What an honor, to have the trust of two little girls, to hold their hands and walk and talk across the frozen lake in the moonlight to The Island.