AFTER THE WAR, my family invested in a piece of exclusive property on a knoll overlooking the lake and used their sizable dividends from the export business to erect the Villa Johannes, a deluxe, lofty, three-storey mansion with German and Scandinavian architectural influences. To get there from the center, you had to take Cat Tail Street, which looped around the side of a hill behind the Villa Schmidt and the Lutheran church. The ground here was overgrown with high grasses and weeds, though the grass was supple, green, and soft, and tickled your ankles.
I walked this same path on the day my family held a major party. It was a cool August day and the wind was in the grasses and in my hair. On the lake, there were several boats. Jane was there in the kitchen, and my parents, and so were my children, and so were Eloisa and Miguel, who had come to help out. Miss Maritime herself, whose real name was Isla, also managed to tumble in, and was seated at the counter. They were all refugees I suppose, because they were drenched in sea water after the ship went down. I remember Isla’s dress was especially damp, and water dripped from it onto the floor. Miguel and Eloisa were elbow deep in potato salad.
“But you have to go back,” Miguel said to me. “There were others on that great ship that went down. They should be here at the party too. They deserve to be rescued!” I decided to go back over to the other side to bring the others back. To get there, I had to take a special staircase in the Villa Johannes that would connect me with the wreck of the ship. Once I went through the door at its top, I would be at the bottom of the sea. Then I could pull the others to safety, and we could all attend the lakefront party together. I was afraid, of course. I ascended the steps and all of the others watched me as I neared the passageway. I saw Jane there, my parents, my children, and beautiful Isla. I saw Miguel and Eloisa. Everyone was watching me as I went up.
north! 