the moment, everything looked green and blue. Smeared, yet maintaining the distinct colors. As his eyes focused, the green separated from the blue. He noticed trees, ocean and sky. Then he noticed the rocks separating the trees from the shoreline.
Individual islands became recognizable. Homes were scattered across the edges of the shoreline. Some lavish, some rather modest in size.
“No property like this could be considered modest,” he told himself.
Sad how Aiden remained so analytical even in these surroundings. Thinking through the details so much over the years made him lose his sense of wonder. Almost as much as the unexpected turns he came across in life.
Maybe the absence of wonder caused those turns.
Maybe the turns weren’t so bad after all.
Maybe they could have turned for the better.
Maybe –
“May I have your attention please. We are now arriving at Cielo Island. Car drivers, please return to your vehicles. Foot passengers will disembark from the car deck. Please make sure you have all of your personal belongings.”
He snapped back to reality. Not too far in the distance, he spotted the Cielo ferry landing. It’s a small operation, with a few tall pilings – Dad called them “dolphins” – that guide the boat to its secure landing spot.
Aiden looked down at his hands, which hadn’t loosened their grip on the green rail since he first stepped out on the deck. He let go and noticed some paint chips on his palms. Brushed them off.
He made his way down to the car deck. Down the stairs, not holding the hand rail. Too many people use this rail; who knew if any of those kids washed their hands.
He walked over to the Civic, unlocked the door and climbed in. He glance up at the ferry landing and noticed a large green arch; hanging from the top of that arch was a faded wooden sign that read “Cielo Island.”
A small concrete ramp hung over the water supported by beams. A painted wooden building that served as a passenger waiting area, the size of an average office. Adjacent to that waiting area was a small convenience stand, selling fatty snacks and canned soda.
His engine revved up, and the friendly ferry workers gave him his cue: Aiden was free to drive off the boat.
“So it begins,” he thought.
2. FIRST IMPRESSIONS, AGAIN
First impressions stick.
When he first came to Cielo for his 13th birthday, Aiden was disappointed by the scenery. Growing up in the city, island life was perceived as tropical and exotic. Palm trees, white sand, clear water.
Ceilo was merely rural. Nothing exotic.
Vast greenery bordered the paved road he was now driving down. Evergreen trees, firs, cedars and ferns. Every now and then some wildlife popped up. Rabbits, mainly, and the occasional deer.
He looked to the left for a street sign indicating the name of the road. After a quarter mile, he saw one that read “Canoe Drive.” Cute.
Aiden’s second visit to Cielo – he had referred to it as a “God-forsaken rock” – started off with the same level of excitement. The road winded through the greenery, then opened up to the countryside. Vast fields, scattered with cows and lambs, and occasional horses. The livestock don’t run on a schedule and they have nowhere to be. They simply graze, sleep and meander. They exist in community.
Simple, Aiden thought. Too simple.
A large farm house stood on the right side of the road. Two stories, wooden frame, painted grey. It had a covered porch with no furniture other than a small clay flower pot; the begonias looked like they were starting to wilt.
Most homes in the country are on farm property. Some farms have livestock ranging from cattle and horses to pigs and lambs; others are strictly agricultural, a place where nurtured soil can produce a harvest of vegetables.
He got his focus back and kept his eyes peeled for the landmark that he and Dad searched for 17 years ago: Scarlet Lane.
After driving a few more miles, he spotted the street sign and turned left onto the small dirt road that went up a modest hill clouted with cedar trees. At the top of this hill was Dad’s log cabin.
Strange how it almost seemed like yesterday that he first pulled into this driveway. The cabin itself was relatively small, a simple two-story structure, roughly 500 square feet with a small covered deck. At age 13, it felt like a castle. Maybe more of a fortress. Castles evoked feelings of wonder and adventure; fortresses felt like prisons, and Aiden was held captive. Not by force, just discontentment. He didn’t like drastic change. Staring at the cabin through the windshield, he felt the same sentiment.
Aiden got out of the car, looked around and noticed that the half-acre property was equally modest. The surrounding cedar trees sheltered the cabin from storms, but also from the sun. A lone maple tree just to the left of the porch showed that September was indeed coming to an end, as a few brown leaves graced the driveway.
“Showing its age more and more,” Aiden said under his breath as he surveyed the property.
He pulled his hands out of his jean pockets, walked to the Civic, pulled out his duffle bag and made his way to the front door. The one detail he distinctly recalled was that the key was hidden under a loose floor board beneath the hand rail. Kicked up the board, pulled out the key and opened the door.
The small area room had a couch and a chair next to the wood stove in the far left corner. The adjacent wall had a step ladder that led up to the sleeping area. A small kitchenette was set in the opposite corner of the ground level. Surprisingly, the cabin didn’t smell too musty.
Aiden didn’t have to open the cabinet to know there was no food. Hungry as he was, he had no interest in looking around the cabin and reminiscing, so he dropped his bag, grabbed his keys and started up the car. Time to go grocery shopping.
He got back in the car, drove down the dirt road and turned onto Canoe Drive. The road continued through farm land and eventually curved south along the ocean, bordering the shoreline for several miles. The sun was beginning to set in front, casting an orange hue across the water that reflected back to the clouds.
Aiden rolled down the window. For some reason he felt drawn to the salty scent he rediscovered on the ferry ride.
There it was again.
Refreshing.
Just over the crest of the hill, he saw the town – the commercial hub of the island. Not much more was needed for a population of 3,000. To Aiden it all felt so foreign.
Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, all things considered.
Canoe Drive continued on past the town so Aiden hung a left onto Borough Boulevard.
That was it – the town is known to locals as the Borough, Dad had said.
It was coming back to him.
Slowly.
The
