Already, she was making mental notes, assessing what it would take to restore the camp.
The main pavilion housed the dining hall. Its deck projected out over the lakeside, where dancing and nightly entertainment used to take place. The lower part of the building housed the kitchen, rec room and camp offices. Now everything had a neglected air, from the weed-infested drive to a patch of rosebushes around the three bare flagpoles. Astonishingly, the roses had survived, growing in riotous profusion on leggy, thorny branches.
As he surveyed the main pavilion and some of the cabins, Freddy said, “I had no idea a place like this still existed. It’s so Dirty Dancing. ”
“It’s a ghost town now,” she said, though her imagination populated it with kids in regulation athletic gray T-shirts with the Kioga logo. Up until the early 1960s, there was dancing every night. There was even live music.”
“Right here in the middle of nowhere?”
“My grandparents claimed the players weren’t half-bad. You could always find talent because of the New York musicians and actors looking to do summer stock. After the camp converted to kids only, there were sing-alongs and dancing lessons here.” She shuddered at the memory. She was always picked last and usually ended up with another girl, a cousin or a boy who mugged for his friends, his face expressing disgust at finding himself with Lolly, “the tub of lard,” as she was known back in those days.
“Let’s open up the main pavilion, and I’ll show you the dining hall,” she said.
Using the key her grandmother had given her, she unlocked the place, and they opened the heavy double doors. In the foyer, glass display cases were draped in dustcovers, and the walls were hung with glass-eyed trophy heads——moose, bear, deer, cougar.
“That’s disturbing,” Freddy said.
Barkis appeared to agree. He stayed close, casting suspicious glances at the animals’ staring eyes and artificially bared teeth.
“We used to give them names,” Olivia said, “and steal each other’s underwear and hang it from the antlers.”
“That’s even more disturbing.”
She led the way into the dining hall. Timbered cathedral ceilings soared overhead. There were enormous river-rock fireplaces at either end, long wooden tables and benches, tall glass doors leading out to the deck and another railed gallery around a loft. A faint odor of burnt wood still lingered in the air.
“It’s a wreck,” she said.
Freddy appeared to be struck silent by the magnitude of the project. His eyes were wide as he turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.
“Listen,” she said, “if you don’t think we should take this on, you need to tell me now. We could probably subcontract it out—”
“Get out of town,” he said, walking toward the long wall of French doors facing the lake. “I am never leaving here.”
Olivia couldn’t help smiling at his enchantment. It took some of the sting out of her own memories.
As if in a trance, he went to the glass doors that faced the lake, cranked the lock and stepped outside onto the vast deck. “My God,” he said, his voice soft with wonder. “My God, Livvy.”
Together, they stood for a long time, gazing at the lake. Edged by gracefully arching willows, it resembled a golden mirror, reflecting a ring of forested mountains. It really was beautiful. Magical, even. She didn’t remember that about this place. No surprise there. When your life was completely unraveling, you tended not to notice the charm of your surroundings.
“There, in the middle,” she said, pointing. “It’s called Spruce Island.” It was large enough to house a gazebo, a dock and picnic area yet small enough to still seem like something conjured, a gleaming emerald in the middle of a sea of gold. “My grandparents were married there, fifty years ago. That’s where they’re going to renew their vows in August, provided we get things whipped into shape.”
“What, there’s
The main pavilion housed the dining hall. Its deck projected out over the lakeside, where dancing and nightly entertainment used to take place. The lower part of the building housed the kitchen, rec room and camp offices. Now everything had a neglected air, from the weed-infested drive to a patch of rosebushes around the three bare flagpoles. Astonishingly, the roses had survived, growing in riotous profusion on leggy, thorny branches.
As he surveyed the main pavilion and some of the cabins, Freddy said, “I had no idea a place like this still existed. It’s so Dirty Dancing. ”
“It’s a ghost town now,” she said, though her imagination populated it with kids in regulation athletic gray T-shirts with the Kioga logo. Up until the early 1960s, there was dancing every night. There was even live music.”
“Right here in the middle of nowhere?”
“My grandparents claimed the players weren’t half-bad. You could always find talent because of the New York musicians and actors looking to do summer stock. After the camp converted to kids only, there were sing-alongs and dancing lessons here.” She shuddered at the memory. She was always picked last and usually ended up with another girl, a cousin or a boy who mugged for his friends, his face expressing disgust at finding himself with Lolly, “the tub of lard,” as she was known back in those days.
“Let’s open up the main pavilion, and I’ll show you the dining hall,” she said.
Using the key her grandmother had given her, she unlocked the place, and they opened the heavy double doors. In the foyer, glass display cases were draped in dustcovers, and the walls were hung with glass-eyed trophy heads——moose, bear, deer, cougar.
“That’s disturbing,” Freddy said.
Barkis appeared to agree. He stayed close, casting suspicious glances at the animals’ staring eyes and artificially bared teeth.
“We used to give them names,” Olivia said, “and steal each other’s underwear and hang it from the antlers.”
“That’s even more disturbing.”
She led the way into the dining hall. Timbered cathedral ceilings soared overhead. There were enormous river-rock fireplaces at either end, long wooden tables and benches, tall glass doors leading out to the deck and another railed gallery around a loft. A faint odor of burnt wood still lingered in the air.
“It’s a wreck,” she said.
Freddy appeared to be struck silent by the magnitude of the project. His eyes were wide as he turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.
“Listen,” she said, “if you don’t think we should take this on, you need to tell me now. We could probably subcontract it out—”
“Get out of town,” he said, walking toward the long wall of French doors facing the lake. “I am never leaving here.”
Olivia couldn’t help smiling at his enchantment. It took some of the sting out of her own memories.
As if in a trance, he went to the glass doors that faced the lake, cranked the lock and stepped outside onto the vast deck. “My God,” he said, his voice soft with wonder. “My God, Livvy.”
Together, they stood for a long time, gazing at the lake. Edged by gracefully arching willows, it resembled a golden mirror, reflecting a ring of forested mountains. It really was beautiful. Magical, even. She didn’t remember that about this place. No surprise there. When your life was completely unraveling, you tended not to notice the charm of your surroundings.
“There, in the middle,” she said, pointing. “It’s called Spruce Island.” It was large enough to house a gazebo, a dock and picnic area yet small enough to still seem like something conjured, a gleaming emerald in the middle of a sea of gold. “My grandparents were married there, fifty years ago. That’s where they’re going to renew their vows in August, provided we get things whipped into shape.”
“What, there’s
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