Chapter 1
Alone in the old boathouse, little fourteen year old Katherine Shoemaker could hear the waters of the lake lapping against the beach. It was cool and moist in the crumbling building, a welcome relief from the glare and heat of the burning August sun.
She liked the old boathouse. It was her very own secret place, and she often ran and hid in it all by herself to think things through.
And Katherine Shoemaker had a lot to think about.
Ever since her beautiful and loving mother, the elegant and poetic Margaret Ann Whitticar of Atlantic Monthly fame, had died, Katherine felt alone and abandoned in the world.
Her father simply didn't understand her!
Nor did her sister, Elizabeth. In fact, the two of them seemed to be in constant conspiracy against her. She was left out of their conversations, their secrets, their lives.
It hadn't been too bad when her mother was still alive. The elegant woman had had the soul of a real poet and she and her youngest daughter shared the insights and delicacies of the feeling, caring kind characteristic of the poetic soul some people have.
The two of them had loved the tender, little, helpless things that seem unimportant but actually count for a great deal of pleasure and love in day-to-day living. The falling of snow, the fog seeping across the still waters of Moosehead Lake, the cry of the fishermen as they hauled in their nets full of wiggling, shimmering fish ... these were but a few of the many, many things they had had in common.
But now it was all gone!
Katherine climbed up on a rack against the farthest wall, sat down and leaned her back against the moist old wooden planks.
Through the cracks in the walls and ceilings, rays of light filtered through the darkness and sprayed the interior of the dim boathouse with an ever-changing view. It was lovely! Her mother liked it here, too. Elizabeth and she had spent many happy hours here, confiding in each other and taking delight in their mutual discoveries.
Oh, Katherine thought to herself, if only her father and sister were more like her! If only they had a delicate way of looking at things and feeling their secrets out.
But that simply wasn't the case, no, not at all.
Katherine told herself for the millionth time that she simply had to be brave and try to see her family situation for what it was and not disappoint herself by hoping and dreaming that things would be different.
Her father was an engineer for the State Water Commission, the best-known expert in the whole state of Maine. He wasn't all bad, of course, but his mind tended toward his work, not the poetic.
Instead of celebrating Katherine's poetic impulses, he degraded them, or at least he didn't encourage her to develop her sensitivities. No, he wanted her to be "realistic and practical" like. Elizabeth. He wanted her to work at math, chemistry, physics, that sort of thing.
But she couldn't, she just couldn't. None of it spoke clearly to her, none of it interested her.
Katherine Shoemaker suddenly felt even more alone and abandoned! Maybe she shouldn't continue in her habit of visiting the boathouse. It was too full of memories. Everything about the place reminded her of her mother, and instead of inspiring her and making her feel brave enough to face up to her present situation, the place simply brought her down and left her feeling even more isolated!
"Katherine! Katherine, are you in there!" a voice called. It was coming from the direction of the big summer house, and it was drawing nearer even as it called.
Katherine crouched back into the shadows, holding herself as still as she could.
She didn't want to talk with her sister. Their father, Richard Shoemaker, was up in the Longfellow Mountains working on a drain project for Piscataguis County, the biggest such project in the history of the state, and the two girls had been left alone for almost three days.
And Katherine didn't like being left alone with Elizabeth!
Elizabeth was only a little more than two years older than Katherine, but she acted as if she were already an adult. She lorded over her younger sister like a mother superior or a warden. And the worst of it was that their father went along with her!
"Elizabeth is older and, therefore, Elizabeth is in charge when I'm not here," her father had said more times than she cared to remember.
"Yes, but she's not that much older!" Katherine would complain, but to no avail.
Elizabeth and Richard were tight buddies, and there was no getting around the older girl's control.
And it was getting worse.
And worse!
In the last couple months in particular, ever since the start of the current season, Elizabeth was acting more and more the boss. God, was she ever getting pushy!
"Katherine! I know you're in there! There's no use hiding from me!"
Elizabeth was almost at the door!
When the older sister had an idea in her head there was no stopping her, come hell or high water. Elizabeth was famous for her stubborn ways and Richard Shoemaker took great pride in that aspect of his older daugher's personality.
He said it showed spunk.
Katherine thought it showed the beginning of a streak of cruelty.
Little did the younger sister know that her suspicions were more than correct. They were absolutely correct. And more so.
The door of the old boathouse opened up wide, it swung at a crazy angle and hit against the wall with the force of the shove Elizabeth had given it. The whole building shook.
And there she was!
The afternoon sun was to her back, and Elizabeth was dazzling in its glow! You couldn't even see her, just the outline of her body and head, with the light glinting off her brilliant blond hair.
Elizabeth stepped into the gloom of the old building and squinted, trying to adjust her eyes, peering into the shadows.
"I hear you!" Elizabeth called out, the intensity of her voice oddly out of place with the commonplace thing she said.
Elizabeth had a way of making the most ordinary statement sound like a major event, a command that had to be obeyed ... or else!
Katherine realized there was no point in trying to hide any longer. It would only make her sister angry and then, when Richard got back from the survey, he'd shout at her when Elizabeth "reported" her so-called bad behavior.
She could just hear her father now! "You know you're supposed to obey your older sister! Can't I depend on you for anything, Elizabeth? Why do you behave that way? Do you deliberately want to worry me? Don't you know things are bad enough without you adding to my troubles?"
God, it made her feel so guilty!
She loved both her sister and her father, but both of them were so different than she was, and sometimes Katherine got the distinct impression that the two of them were secretly plotting against her.
Of course, her thinking that way was silly, ridiculous, but that was the way Katherine felt.
If only she, too, had a friend, someone she could take in her confidence and share her feelings and ideas with.
"Here I am, Elizabeth," Katherine finally admitted. She hated the tone of defeat and caution she could hear in her own voice. If she could control at least that much, she would have more of a chance in resisting the control of her older sister.
But she couldn't help it.
She was afraid of Elizabeth.
The older girl walked straight up to her, her features coming into view as she approached the wall opposite the door.
Elizabeth was a very pretty girl. She was extremely mature for her age, as mature for her age as Katherine was underdeveloped.
Elizabeth already had the rich, full figure of a mature woman. Her breasts were heavy and swayed when she walked.
Katherine was almost flat-chested, more like a boy than a girl. Her breasts were apple-sized. Her mother used to call them "pert." It was a nice, polite way of saying "small."
Elizabeth was standing right in front of her younger sister now, and she reached out and touched her knee. She started rubbing it and continued to do so as she talked.
"Mrs. Williamson is at the house. She's waiting for you," Elizabeth explained, still rubbing Katherine's knee.
She always touched Katherine when she talked to the younger girl. It was one of her habits.
And Katherine wished she wouldn't do it. How many times she had asked her not to she couldn't even remember. A couple times she even got angry and pushed her hands away, complaining in no uncertain terms.
She had even complained to her father about it.
He sat there and listened to what she had had to say. He always did. But, then, when she finished, he simply said, "Well, you're just overreacting, Katherine. There's no harm in it, none at all. It's natural for sisters to be affectionate. You should be happy to have an older sister who takes care of you and loves you. You're lucky. You don't know how lucky you are."
"Mrs. Williamson?" Katherine asked. She liked Mrs. Williamson. They had only met a few weeks ago. Mrs. Williamson was new to Moosehead Lake. She had only just moved to the lake region of Maine recently. Before that she had lived in Manhattan. She had owned a bar, or something, and when her partner died, she had wanted to get away from the big city and so had purchased the big year-round place next to their summer home.
"Yes, and she's been waiting for you," Katherine explained. "Let's go."
With that her older sister turned away and walked toward the door. She stopped in the doorway and turned around, waiting. Again the sun turned her into a glittering outline.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" she said impatiently. "I thought you liked Mrs. Williamson."
"I do," Katherine answered, slipping from her perch against the back wall. She walked toward Elizabeth and the two of them stepped into the bright afternoon sun.
They walked the short distance from the boathouse to the main house, digging their toes in the fine sand of their private beach. It was not too hot, and it felt good on the soles of their feet; it felt nice as it squeezed between their toes.
Katherine ran far ahead of her older sister and played a game, singing out loud as she did so. She picked up a flat stone and, holding her arm back, sent it skipping across the quiet waters of the beautiful lake.
It hit the surface of the placid water, bounded once, bounded three times more and finally sank out of sight. Each time the skidding stone touched the surface, the water erupted in a fine-to-see spray and the sun glinted off of it, creating quickly-fading rainbows lovely in their color and brevity.
Elizabeth watched her younger sister at play, amazed.
She really is a child, Elizabeth thought to herself. She's fourteen, almost fifteen, but she acts more like she was ten or eleven. It really is a good thing she's got me to take care of her. If it weren't for me, she'd stay a child forever.
Katherine was picking up another stone, bending over and taking her time to select one that was just right for her game of water-skidding.
Elizabeth watched her with the eye of an eagle. She took in every movement of the younger girl's body. She liked it even though it was underdeveloped by statistical standards.
But who cared what the medical statistics said? Elizabeth certainly didn't. On the contrary, she thought her younger sister was very, very beautiful in her own, distinct way.
Just think about it. Katherine had exceptionally beautiful, long black hair. And, because the young girl was proud of it and took great pride in maintaining it, her hair always looked good. It was full of highlights. It was rich and soft and luxurious.
And her face! God, her face really was fantastic! Big, brown eyes that were widely separated. Her eyes gave her an exaggerated look of innocence, of wide-eyed wonder. When Katherine looked at a person, he or she was more than likely to melt in front of her!
And she was wonderfully fair-skinned. Even though they did spend the summer on the lake, Katherine was surprisingly pale. She didn't really like the sun and always somehow managed to stay out of it. Even walking from the boathouse to the main house, the younger sister tended, without thinking, to stay under the shade of the big trees that characterized that part of Maine.
"Hello, Katherine!" Mrs. Williamson called from the balcony of the main house. She was standing on the wooden deck waving to the two girls, her even white teeth sparkling in the bright sun light.
"Hello, Mrs. Williamson," Katherine called, and started running toward the house.
She did like Mrs. Williamson and she was beginning to like her more and more each time they visited together.
At thirty-eight, Mrs. Williamson was a fine figure of a woman. Nothing frail about her, she was, nonetheless, graceful and womanly despite her large frame. She was sort-of like an Amazon, Katherine liked to think, and she was obviously the kind of person one could depend on and confide in.
Once you got to be friends, that is.
And Katherine definitely wanted to be friends with the tall, redheaded neighbor woman.
The three females met in the kitchen, and Mrs. Williamson hugged Katherine to her full breast. Oh, she smelled good. Like an oven full of baking cookies. Yes, she had that lovely bakery aroma about her all the time.
"I made some fresh coffee for us," Mrs. Williamson said, smiling at both the sisters.
The older woman really liked the girls a lot. They were both so different, and yet both of them were attractive in their own special ways. Elizabeth with her full, mature body and her lovely blond hair and blue eyes was the spitting image of Richard Shoemaker.
It was said of Katherine that she resembled her recently-dead mother. Ah, thought Mrs.
Williamson, the former Mrs. Shoemaker must have been a very beautiful woman.
"Oh, how nice!" Katherine said when she heard about the coffee. The delicious aroma of the fresh-perked brew was wonderful. The younger sister had only just recently been allowed to drink the stuff. It had been feared that it might stunt her already "backward" development, and so she hadn't been allowed to drink coffee, although she really wanted to.
It was Mrs. Williamson who had defended her and said that a little coffee wouldn't hurt anyone. In fact, the neighbor woman had insisted that it would actually be good for Katherine.
And from that very moment, Katherine had felt an affection for the woman. It had been a long time since anyone had taken her side about anything. It was a relief to find someone who at least seemed to understand her.
The two sisters and the neighbor woman sat down at the big kitchen table and poured the steaming-hot coffee out into nice, big, ceramic mugs.
Oh, how pleasant this is, Katherine mused to herself. She loved things domentic, and for her the kitchen was the center of any house.
And as her older sister and Mrs. Williamson talked, Katherine drifted and enjoyed their pleasant moment in the room. The kitchen was especially big, with highly-polished wooden floors, a well-organized bank of major appliances, and big floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out past the wooden balcony and into the beautiful waters of Moosehead Lake.
For the briefest moment, and for the first time in a long while, Katherine actually felt happy.
Then she caught a bit of the conversation that was flowing back and forth between the other women.
Her name had. been mentioned.
Katherine looked up and found both her sister and Mrs. Williamson looking at her, smiling pleasantly.
"Oh, excuse me!" Katherine smiled. "I guess I was day-dreaming!"
"She's always day-dreaming," Elizabeth explained unnecessarily.
It made Katherine feel childish and slightly retarded. Her brief moment of happiness faded.
"Well, some of us like to think things out," Mrs. Williamson said to Elizabeth, defending Katherine. She was looking straight at the younger sister when she said it.
They shared a secret smile.
And again Katherine felt happy!
"Yes, well...." Katherine hesitated, a bit confused, "but did I hear my name said?"
Mrs. Williamson's face suddenly looked at her seriously. "I understand you haven't been feeling well."
Katherine began to blush! She could feel the hot flush creeping from her shoulders up her neck and spreading across her lower face.
Oh, why didn't Elizabeth keep her big mouth shut?! She had to tell everything! Especially the things you didn't want her to tell!
"Oh, it's ... it's nothing," Katherine said, trying desperately to keep cool. "Elizabeth shouldn't have said anything." She turned to Elizabeth an d stared at her with anger in her eyes: "Really, she shouldn't have!"
"But if you're not feeling well, it's her duty for her to speak out. After all, she is your older sister, and while your father is away you are her responsibility."
Oh, it was so disappointing to hear Mrs. Williamson talking like that!
"But I tell you I'm perfectly all right!" Katherine objected. Even the freshly-brewed coffee lost its appeal. She pushed the cup away from her, sliding it across the mahogany surface of the big, round table.
Oh, I hope big-mouth didn't tell her what I said yesterday, Katherine hoped to herself.
But it didn't come as any real surprise when it turned out that Elizabeth had, indeed, told Mrs. Williamson.
"But constipation is a very serious thing!" the big neighbor woman stated with conviction. "Some people don't think so, but they're wrong. They're definitely wrong. It is a serious thing. Especially with young people. It's important to growth to keep the system clean."
"I thought that was probably the case," Elizabeth smiled, her face glowing with her petty little victory. She really got off on getting the best of her younger, little sister. Katherine wanted to scream out her protest! She hated being talked about that way! Didn't Mrs. Williamson knew she was being terribly humiliated? Didn't she even suspect that she was suffering greatly? How would she like it if she and her sister sat around talking about her that way?
Especially right in front of her. Mrs. Williamson was sipping her coffee, smiling at the younger sister over the rim of the ceramic mug.
Elizabeth stood up and walked over to the electric range. Her stride was purposefull and knowing, as if the tension of the situation were a stimulant. She picked up the glass coffeepot and carried it back to the table.
"More coffee, Mrs. Williamson?" she asked, holding the pot forward.
"Why, yes, I believe I will!" the big woman answered, turning her head. Her striking short, red hair was bright as a carrot. It looked cute with her freckles "Are you going to have some more, too, Katherine?" she asked. Her voice was husky, but attractive. When she smiled, her big, even, white teeth seemed to be a billboard saying, "Enjoy yourself! Have fun!"
Katherine couldn't help but smile back at her, despite the fact that she was still somewhat angry about having been discussed in so unfeeling a manner.
The younger sister had a very forgiving nature.
Well, she'd need it ... in the not too distant future!
"Yes, I believe I will," she said. "Mine seems to have cooled off a bit." She pulled her cup back from the center of the table.
When Elizabeth poured coffee for the three of them and was walking back to the table, Mrs. Williamson said, "Katherine, instead of calling me 'Mrs. Williamson' please do me a favor and call me 'Marsha' instead. That is my name you know."
Katherine's face lit up with pleasure! The big, friendly woman was winning her confidence ... and her heart.
"Oh, thank you, Mrs. William ... ah, Marsha!"
Elizabeth was back at the table. "Why, Katherine! You shouldn't call older people by their first names! Have you forgotten your manners!"
Mrs. Williamson spoke up immediately.
"Please, Elizabeth! I really do want to be called Marsha! Mrs. Williamson makes me sound so old! Like I was over the hill or something! I'm only thirty-two," she lied.
"Oh, well, if that's how you want it, Marsha," Elizabeth said, using the woman's first name without any hesitation.
That's Elizabeth, for you, Katherine said to herself. Give her a foot and she'll take a mile!
The three females sat there in silence for a moment. It really was a beautiful late afternoon. The sun was setting behind the forest of pines across the lake and great bands of color streaked across the dome of the sky, the whole panorama of color reflected back into the sky by the surprisingly clear waters of Moosehead Lake.
Mrs. Williamson broke the silence. "It certainly is lovely here in the country. Especially after all those years in Manhattan. Heavens, with owning a bar and all, one almost forgets that there's an earth underneath one's feet. How good it is up here!"
Katherine was liking her new friend more and more with each and every passing second. How sensitive and responsive she was to the beauties of nature! She was a little bit like her dear, departed mother.
"By the way," Mrs. Williamson said, "what time is it?"
"Oh, let's see, Elizabeth said, turning in her spindle-backed chair to look at the modem electric clock on the kitchen wall. "It's ... almost eight o'clock."
"Oh, dear me!" the big woman exclaimed, getting up from her chair, brushing her kulots with the palms of both hands. "I've got to get going!"
"Really?" Katherine said, standing up. "I'm so sorry!" The look of disappointment was clear in her face.
"Yes, I'm afraid I have to. I invited some of the girls, they used to be regulars customers at my bar. They're driving up in Beverley's Volkswagon van. They're great on the outdoors. Beverley canoed down the Orinoco with her father and brothers when she was just a girl."
"That's fabulous!" Elizabeth gushed. "That's really fantastic! How old was she?"
"Oh, not quite twenty, if I'm remembering correctly. Yes, Beverley is as strong as most men, and surely she's as competent. All my women friends are. I like strong women."
"So do I!" Elizabeth added with enthusiasm. "I'd sure like to meet your friends. I'm going to be an engineer like daddy. I've already got M.I.T. in mind!"
Mrs. Williamson hesitated. It was quite unlike her. She didn't seem quite sure what to say next. Elizabeth's suggestion that she meet her women friends from Manhattan really seemed to throw the big, redheaded woman.
"Well, maybe sometimes we can all get together, but ... but this is a business meeting, really. Yes, that's it! And I ... I'm afraid our talk would only bore you ... ah, this time."
"Oh," was all Elizabeth said, looking very disappointed. She set her coffee mug down on the table and pouted, not even bothering with an attempt to conceal her feelings.
"But ... next time! Next time for sure!" Mrs. Williamson added quickly. She started walking toward the door leading out onto the balcony. She was already quite familiar with the Shoemaker's summer home.
"Well, good-bye, Elizabeth, thank you for the coffee. And good-bye, Katherine. Do come over and visit after the girls leave. We can talk about Whitman some more. I like hearing about him, and I like his poetry, too."
Suddenly Katherine came quickly to life again!
'Oh, Marsha! Aren't you forgetting something?" she shouted, her voice surprisingly urgent.
Mrs. Williamson turned and looked at her blankly.
"Oh! Oh, yes!" she said, remembering. "I did, didn't I! How forgetful I'm getting! It must be all this fresh Maine air of yours. I'm not used to it. But I will be."
"Well, where is it," Elizabeth said, almost impatiently.
Katherine was shocked by her rudeness!
"Oh, it's right there," Mrs. Williamson explained, pointing to a leather bag resting next to the chair she had sat in.
"Good!" Elizabeth said, quickly bending over and picking the bag. She seemed real pleased with it, whatever it was.
Again Katherine was shocked by her older sister's rudeness! Why, she hadn't even thanked Mrs. Williamson ... ah, Marsha. Katherine decided to make-up for her sister by thanking Marsha herself.
She walked up to the redheaded woman and took her hand in hers. It was surprisingly warm!
Mrs. Williamson was pleased, perhaps even delighted, and she smiled directly into Katherine's eyes. Katherine smile back at her.
"Excuse my sister," the young girl said, almost in a whisper, "but thank you."
"For what, my dear?" Mrs. Williamson asked, squeezing her hand.
"For whatever you brought for Elizabeth," she answered, nodding in her older sister's direction.
"Oh, but, Katherine dear, it's not for your sister. I brought it over for you! Well, I really must be going!"
And with that Mrs. Williamson walked out the door, across the redwood balcony, down the stairs and in the direction of her year-round home.
Katherine watched her disappear into the darkening shadows. Some few stars were beginning to twinkle into existence in the now-dark sky. Then she turned away from the door and back into the kitchen.
And what she saw shocked her!
There was Katherine! She had unzipped the black, leather bag and was pulling an object out of it.
It was an enema bag!