Neebish Island Day 4 (The Cordless Phone Rings)

“Give me a second Kari, I have to fill the birdfeeder.” I tell Kari getting up from the orange reupholstered tippey-rocker.

“What?” Kari questions from her rocker in Wheaton, Illinois.

“Yes, I have taken over the chore of refilling the hummingbird feeder.  Today is my third day.  The recipe is real simple:  Heat 2 cups of water, add one cup of sugar and stir until dissolved, add food coloring.”

“You are making this? Don’t take pictures of yourself making brownies.  I want a picture of you at the feeder!”

“Gotta go, Mom is late for the ferry and needs help making her ice-filled Mountain Dew.”

Camera shot:  see Amy opening the freezer, pulling out the aqua ice tray and breaking a few cubes free for mom’s plastic yellow to go cup. Cordless Phone rings.  Amy pulls it from base.  Aunt Bonnie is calling with an update on Grandma’s prescription.

I answer.  “Hi Bonnie, can you call me back in three minutes.  I need to help my mom get out the door for the 2:00 Ferry.”  I cover the mouthpiece and say, “Mom just take your Mountain Dew, I will follow you out with the trash.“ There is no trash collection on Neebish Island. Each resident removes each bag by ferry off the island.  Great Grandma Maggie Lovejoy obviously raised her two daughters on cloth diapers.   Firecracker that she was she hand washed each white rectangular homemade diaper, and hung it on the line immediately.  Obviously, this inspires composting and the burning of paper products.  The only problem with composting is the bears, including the 600-pound black bear that crossed over on the ice last winter.  The matron of the Neebish Island Resort (Read: only store on the island that has a laundry mat and sells Mackinac Island Fudge ice cream) explained that that bear won’t survive this hunting season.  Nevertheless its presence keeps everyone from composting.  Even Kelly won’t let me throw a banana peel over the balcony into the forest of white pines and aspens for fear of bears.

Who needs the Internet? I have the 1994 edition of World Book Encyclopedia which my grandmother sold her whole life.  She lives off the pension she earned working for the company for many years—no one can remember how many.  Just like the city retirees in Detroit, I too am worried about the government’s ability to keep its promise on my pension and consider joining Cheryl Sandberg at Facebook for the next twenty five years before I too retire to Neebish Island with my siblings.  I just finished Cheryl’s autobiography last night and want to run her main points past my grandmother when she comes home from the hospital this afternoon.

My mom’s 59 year-old sister Bonnie is bringing Grandma home from the hospital today and the prescription for her antibiotics costs $1500, Medicare only pays $1000 so she missed the 2:00PM ferry to go back to the hospital to have the prescription re-written.  Grandma has been through a lot this year.  She is 86-years-old and had hip surgery this winter, followed by dental surgery which required a killer antibiotic that left her vulnerable to C-dif. Which she got last week.  When her 92 year-old boyfriend of six years died of undiagnosed lung cancer, the emotional hit reduced her fragile immune system to the size of a baby hummingbird. His memorial service was held on the island last weekend.  Grandma and Keith had met playing Euchre on Wednesday nights at the community center.  The garden Keith had started and kept the last six years lies unattended on the other side of the pine tree beyond the hummingbird feeder. 

(Note: Hummingbird, is at the feeder.  First thought, note the white collar around its neck, grey belly and coal black head. Reach for the letter H World Book Encyclopedia, try to memorize fun facts for Santi. Hummingbirds live only in the Western Hemisphere, 300 species are known, only 19 live in the US. Wings flap 60 to 70 times a minute.  Must ask the neighbor Mr. Koeger how many species are on Neebish island). 

Cordless phone rings again.  Kari wants to know if I have taken the towels off the line, made Grandma’s bed and relined the trash bag after mom left, or if I am still feeding the seagulls on the half-dock while watching the ore-boats power in front of the cottage, checking on the sailors with my binoculars as they pass.

I let her know I am drinking a cup of Folger’s coffee I made myself of a Colombian coffee mug I packed as a gift and that the 1000-foot freighter, “American Integrity” maroon hull white deck, waving the Michigan state flag just passed by.  I must ask my ten-year-old neighbor for the rest of the canal schedule.  He tracks the freighters each day and can tell me how many are coming, how much they weigh and what they carry.  Apparently, since the water is low this year they can’t run full loaded.  Regardless, they are still more economical than train or truck.

I met Derek, the ten-year-old when I was trying to steal wifi from the cabin next store last night.  He walked up to me and asked confidently, “What is your baby’s name?”

“Santiago,” I responded surprised that he noticed I had a baby. 

“Who is that other woman with you?” 

“That is Kelly, his nanny.”

 “Where is your husband?”  He continued, note to reader, this is not the first time I have been asked that question on the island. 

“I had the child on my own. I am a single mother by choice."

“That must be hard,”  he added empathetically.

“Not really,” I shared honestly.

“Well then, I guess your baby is a girl if you made her on your own.”  We had reached the end of the conversation.

“Where is your mom?“ I asked.  Best his mother help him make sense of my unconventional choices.  Choices that are uncommon on Neebish Island, but that no doubt, would have made Maggie Lovejoy proud.