floorboard next to the hearth. The other end of the board flipped up. “Ha!” she shouted triumphantly, moving aside to make room for him.
“Wow! That’s incredible!”
“I know, right? My cousins and I discovered this secret hiding place, and we left notes to each other. And look, here’s some things left from way back then!”
He examined the space. “This was obviously meant to be here. I mean, it’s not just an accidental loose floorboard. How did you discover it?”
“We were playing Twister,” she said, laughing. “You know, left foot, red. I stepped on it, the board flipped up, and there it was.”
“Was there anything in it?”
“Yes, I hope it’s still in here.” She reached in and pulled out a small pile of papers. “Here’s some of our stuff. We began to leave messages for each other. You know, ‘Steal Aunt Trudy’s glasses for fifteen points.’ ‘Get Uncle Vick’s size XXXL underwear and run it up the flagpole, fifty points.’ Stuff like that. It became a sort of scavenger hunt thing that we went berserk with.”
He fell back on his heels laughing. “Let’s see!”
She handed him the first note and then unfolded the next one in the stack. She eagerly scanned the writing, and then looked up, sadness on her face. She read: “Meet here every Fourth of July.”
“And did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know about the rest of them, but for me, my mom was having husband problems the next summer and my sister was heavy into the beauty pageant circuit the next year. Sometimes you just get swept along in other people’s lives and don’t even know it, I guess.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“You do?”
He nodded, but motioned for her to continue. “What else?”
“Oh, here it is,” she said, sliding an old envelope from the bottom of the stack. “It was a love note we found. Here, look.” She read:
Liz,
Wait for me, my darling. If the gods allow, we’ll be together again soon.
Love forever, Malcolm.
She clutched the letter to her chest and sighed dreamily.
“Do you know who they were?”
“Yes, we asked Uncle Todd. He said Malcolm and Elizabeth—I think their name was Moore—were the people who built the house and cabin. He and Aunt Vi bought the property from Mr. Moore’s children after he died. Apparently Liz died first, and Malcolm moved to some assisted living place until his death. We assumed he wrote this to Liz after she died, and left it here, hidden in the cabin. It was just such a sad, romantic notion; I always like to think they’re together now forever.”
“Wow. That’s really a beautiful story.”
“Yes,” she agreed, carefully replacing all the papers. “I’ll just leave everything as I found it. It’s sort of like a time capsule. It makes me happy and sad, all at the same time, though.”
He looked thoughtfully around the room. “I’m thinking Malcolm and Liz probably bought the land and built this cabin first. Then, when their family grew, they built the main house.”
“I guess. That makes sense.”
“Come on,” he said impulsively, grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the floor.
“Where are we going?” He led her out of the cabin and through the underbrush to the shore.
“Ta-da!” he said with a wave of his hand. “Care for a bonfire by the lake?” She saw that logs were piled teepee style with kindling beneath, all set to go. This guy was a regular Boy Scout!
“Sure,” she said. “That’s a great idea.”
Night had softly fallen, as only a Southern spring night could. Stars were beginning to shine in the cloudless sky. A little chill was in the air. As he touched a match to the kindling, she was warmed by the sudden whomph! of the fire going up, as much as she was by the feel of Mike pulling her down onto the shore beside him.
She was aware of a heightened sense of seclusion. She felt as if she and Mike were the only two people left on the whole earth. Careful , she
“Wow! That’s incredible!”
“I know, right? My cousins and I discovered this secret hiding place, and we left notes to each other. And look, here’s some things left from way back then!”
He examined the space. “This was obviously meant to be here. I mean, it’s not just an accidental loose floorboard. How did you discover it?”
“We were playing Twister,” she said, laughing. “You know, left foot, red. I stepped on it, the board flipped up, and there it was.”
“Was there anything in it?”
“Yes, I hope it’s still in here.” She reached in and pulled out a small pile of papers. “Here’s some of our stuff. We began to leave messages for each other. You know, ‘Steal Aunt Trudy’s glasses for fifteen points.’ ‘Get Uncle Vick’s size XXXL underwear and run it up the flagpole, fifty points.’ Stuff like that. It became a sort of scavenger hunt thing that we went berserk with.”
He fell back on his heels laughing. “Let’s see!”
She handed him the first note and then unfolded the next one in the stack. She eagerly scanned the writing, and then looked up, sadness on her face. She read: “Meet here every Fourth of July.”
“And did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know about the rest of them, but for me, my mom was having husband problems the next summer and my sister was heavy into the beauty pageant circuit the next year. Sometimes you just get swept along in other people’s lives and don’t even know it, I guess.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“You do?”
He nodded, but motioned for her to continue. “What else?”
“Oh, here it is,” she said, sliding an old envelope from the bottom of the stack. “It was a love note we found. Here, look.” She read:
Liz,
Wait for me, my darling. If the gods allow, we’ll be together again soon.
Love forever, Malcolm.
She clutched the letter to her chest and sighed dreamily.
“Do you know who they were?”
“Yes, we asked Uncle Todd. He said Malcolm and Elizabeth—I think their name was Moore—were the people who built the house and cabin. He and Aunt Vi bought the property from Mr. Moore’s children after he died. Apparently Liz died first, and Malcolm moved to some assisted living place until his death. We assumed he wrote this to Liz after she died, and left it here, hidden in the cabin. It was just such a sad, romantic notion; I always like to think they’re together now forever.”
“Wow. That’s really a beautiful story.”
“Yes,” she agreed, carefully replacing all the papers. “I’ll just leave everything as I found it. It’s sort of like a time capsule. It makes me happy and sad, all at the same time, though.”
He looked thoughtfully around the room. “I’m thinking Malcolm and Liz probably bought the land and built this cabin first. Then, when their family grew, they built the main house.”
“I guess. That makes sense.”
“Come on,” he said impulsively, grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the floor.
“Where are we going?” He led her out of the cabin and through the underbrush to the shore.
“Ta-da!” he said with a wave of his hand. “Care for a bonfire by the lake?” She saw that logs were piled teepee style with kindling beneath, all set to go. This guy was a regular Boy Scout!
“Sure,” she said. “That’s a great idea.”
Night had softly fallen, as only a Southern spring night could. Stars were beginning to shine in the cloudless sky. A little chill was in the air. As he touched a match to the kindling, she was warmed by the sudden whomph! of the fire going up, as much as she was by the feel of Mike pulling her down onto the shore beside him.
She was aware of a heightened sense of seclusion. She felt as if she and Mike were the only two people left on the whole earth. Careful , she
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