The Island- Part one

A dream turned story.

                                                                              The Island

I am sitting alone near Lake Huron in Port Austin in late 2020. My mind found a memory and I am trying to seek the memory out from hidden parts of my mind. I dislike  my mind now. My mind had forsaken me. I am 62 years old and the eleven anthrax shots and  300 malaria pills had stole my memory. Sometimes I can't tell the truth from fiction. Maybe the memory of the island was a utopia type dream?

It was early 1989 and I was barely staying above water in health and mind. I went to the funeral of my brother who committed suicide. My second brother in two years who left my world without a goodbye. Their death made my life fruitless and useless. I decided to take a drive, I went north toward Lake Michigan. I followed the backroads till I found the bridge to Upper Michigan in my view. I saw a small sign, "Welcome to Idyllic, a place where no-one is rushing and the lake is around us." 

I took the turn toward Idyllic and after a short drive. I saw a long bridge, maybe two miles in length. The bridge was ancient and beautiful. The bridge had Greek art on the walls of the bridge. You could walk the bridge if you wanted, a walkway where you could see the lake Superior moving and dancing. This was a idyllic place and I already understood why they called her by the ancient name. I drove the bridge slowly, enjoying the view of Lake Superior and the artwork on the walls of the bridge. At midway of the bridge, a turnoff. I turned into the turnoff and left my truck. Many cement statues of ancient Native Americans dancing and looking at the lake. Each one, had some poetry. I read the poetry on a Ojibwa woman statue.

                                         "Utopia

We seek everything, we want to be the king of the forest.

One day we learn.

We have enough,

we have the trees, the water and the wildflowers.

We have our children, our family and friends near.

The utopia of a fine life.

Being happy with enough."

I went to my car and I felt lighter in mind already. I foresaw a wonderous place already. Idyllic was already making my sleeping mind come alive. I wanted to stop and write but I had to discover what this place was offering to me. The small island seem lightly in population and very quiet. I drove till I saw the downtown area. A four block square of small cottages, bars and restaurants. I saw few people roaming the city. It was noon and I searched out for some food.

I walked the city and everyone I met, said good afternoon or hello. Most of the people were young and they looked content. They were lightly sun-kissed by the warm Spring weather. I found a restaurant with many lunch specials. A pretty red-hair waitress introduced herself. My name is Luna, welcome to Luna's heathy and tasty foods. Would you like something to drink? I told her, the corn-beef sandwich and a coffee please. She smiled and she told me. Welcome to Idyllic, I hope you enjoy our island.

She brought the food and the coffee and she told me. A music festival at the park, all day, into the evening. I hope you have time to enjoy. I believe you would like. A little Jazzy and some folk songs too. Enjoy the food and thank you for stopping in. The sandwich was wonderful, the corn-beer melting in your mouth and the coffee. Strong and tasty. I paid the bill and I told Luna. Thank you for the amazing food. She smiled, looked deep into my eyes. She told me, please try to have some fun. Sometimes, we must slow down and figure what we need.

I left her and she watched me walk away. I was her only customer. She told me to walk five blocks on the main street , the only street, she laughed and she told me. Can't get lost in Idyllic. The park dead-end at the lake and the lake Superior had a wonderful view. I saw many people sitting near the center of the park. You could see Lake Superior and I was already in love with the city. The set-up was ancient Greek style. The soft chairs settle into a cement, was nine layers of seating. Every chair had perfect view of the stage. Someone had a perfect vision to create a place where music could be appreciated and performed by skilled musicians.

I sat away from people. The people were beautiful, most were young, the women wearing Spring and Summer dresses, the men were wearing shorts and t-shirts. The few older people, were healthy, looked strong and they were alert. The music was wonderful, a pretty woman sang the Jazz songs. I wrote in my journal.

                    Idyllic

Lakeside city,

honored by the gods,

pretty people and good song.

A blessing for the people needing peace and salvation.

Dear Idyllic.

A needed blessing in my world of confusion. 

I looked-up and a pretty woman in her Spring dress, showing tan shoulders, beautiful face and eyes of wonder. She asked, dear Salinger, sitting alone, barely can hear the songs. Are you hiding or seeking?  I smiled and I told her. Maybe both, us Salingers, we like to be ghosts among the living. Maybe a place of safety or maybe. Need to find some silence? She looked sad and she asked. You want me to leave you alone? I reached-out my hand and I told her, my name is Johnnie. Please stay and talk with me. I need voices, not silence. She took my hand and she told me. My name is Nicole, a artist, healer and masseuse, herbalist and singer. I told her, I am a want-a-be Hemingway, slave for a big company and looking for something worthwhile to live for.

She smiled and she whispered. The song is better in the front, I have some sweet red wine and you can join me and my sister Lana. We may talk you to death, but we wouldn't mind, if you joined us. I smiled and I told her. Thank you Nicole for being kind to a stranger. I do need some good company today. Nicole took my hand and dragged me to the front. A girl with long brown hair was making the jazz come alive. A beautiful woman stood-up with eyes of hazel green, flowing brown hair down her back and a kind smile. She introduced herself. My name is Lana. Welcome to Idyllic, where life is pretty slow and we like it, slow. Please sit down and share our five bottles of red wine. The music is played till 12 pm.

I thanked them and Nicole handed me a glass of wine. She raised the wine glass-up to the sky. To new friends, better days and more laughter. We touched glasses and I looked at Lake Superior. I did a private prayer.

Thank you Lord of life and death.

Allowing me to land in the proper place.

                               Dancing Coyote

Author's Note

New story being born.

Reviews

[Rye]

We seek everything, we want to be the king of the forest.
One day we learn.
We have enough,
we have the trees, the water and the wildflowers.
We have our children, our family and friends near.
The utopia of a fine life.
Being happy with enough

I throughly enjoyed this part and this chapter. Very descriptive, and I adore the imagery.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear friend. I appreciate the comment.

[Sami Khalil]

Wow. You are welcome sir. Best of luck and effort.

[Carina Baumert]

A very romantic story you have written here, Coyote. I loved the imagery and the Native American verses breaking it up in between. The descriptions are very beautiful. I will go on to read more chapters. Take care :)

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Carina. This is my project now. I must finish six stories by January. I am terrible at create endings.

[Carina Baumert]

It's a great new project. I always design my ending at the beginning and then work towards it. For my ending, Tin man falls in love with the girl and he hasn't felt anything in a long time. But it arrives too late because their time together's come to an end. I also plan an epilogue for a separate or alternate ending. I hope you can work out your ending for your story. Best of luck!

[Coyote Poetry]

This story came to me in a dream. I had 11 Anthrax shots and 300 malaria I took when I served in the Army. The anthrax shot caused me memory loss. I do the vitamins and I read non-stop. I write some poetry and story from my dreams. Maybe true or not? Writing is hard work, need time and out-line. I prefer a honest ending myself. In some stories, must end in sadness. Most of the characters in the story committed suicide. Even the writer thought about it. Thank you for your kind words and I love your story. I was station In Southern Germany from 1976-1980. Was the best days of my life.

[Sami Khalil]

"I saw a long bridge, maybe two miles in length. The bridge was ancient and beautiful. The bridge had Greek art on the walls of the bridge."

[Sami Khalil]

"Dear Idyllic.
A needed blessing in my world of confusion."

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Sami. I appreciate the comment.

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome sir....

[Sami Khalil]

This shows more of your talented side Coyote poetry. I was immersed in the details with many feelings came to mind. Very descriptive and straightforward. All your stories are peppered with romance and lovely encounters that bring memories alive. Will keep visiting when time permits sir...

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Sami for reading and the comment. I will try to finish the story during my nine days off from work.

[emmajoy]

' I saw a long bridge, maybe two miles in length. The bridge was ancient and beautiful. The bridge had Greek art on the walls of the bridge. You could walk the bridge if you wanted, a walkway where you could see the lake Superior moving and dancing. This was a idyllic place and I already understood why they called her by the ancient name. ' Here, Your words beckon, inviting the reader to travel on with you. To know more of Luna and what she might be.

You give such visual hints to where you are, what and w ho you you see, and.. Nicole, the woman with hazel eyes. ' Thank you Lord of life and death. Allowing me to land in the proper place.' Contented you.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Emma. I hope you can read more. I will try and finish this weekend.

[emmajoy]

I will., John

[Eilis]

Coyote, I enjoyed this very much and look forward to reading the other chapters as time allows me. I love how you show how kindness and connections can disperse the dark grasp of loneliness and trauma.

Your description of the place is a lovely mix of a kind of mystical dream-like feeling and the bounty of nature. The details you chose to focus on—like the statues and bridges—and the insertion of the poetry; these things made the story personal and original and also lent very much to the sense of space. And the presence of kindness in the strangers met on the journey is a nice counterpoint to the dark memory that plagues the speaker.

I don’t really know how to articulate the way the story makes me feel, but I do sense it has a distinct personality and point of view, and these are things I always enjoy in a story. A glimpse into the heart and mind of someone whose life is different than my own.

Much enjoyed this and will look forward to future reading.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend Eilis. The story came to me in a dream. Free-flowing words and thoughts.

[Anne Martin]

Hi Coyote, You asked, so I'm here. (I owe you so many reviews ...) I don't give short reviews of prose, and they are more like critiques.

Firstly, this is a good start. I like how you've inserted poetry into the narrative. My first impression is that you seem in a hurry to tell the story. You give us a lot of information in a very short space. Some around here might call it telling, rather than showing. I realize that you will probably explain your references to the anthrax and malaria pills, but you could give us more description of the fog in your protagonist's brain. That might turn it into a significant paragraph, rather than just a jumping off point, leading us from now to 1989.

I know that part of the world a little, having spent a couple of summers near Traverse City, MI. It is beautiful countryside. Your description of it must portray how beautiful it is. Don't just tell us it is beautiful. Likewise, don't just say the sandwich was wonderful. You never actually say what kind of sandwich it was. Be more specific with your language. You could make more of that encounter. With a name like Luna, and your references to gods and goddesses as well as describing the architecture as Greek, there must be more significance to her.

You do this instinctively in your poetry. Why not here? Think of your prose as poetry. In the same way, try to use more specific verbs. Rather than, "I did a private prayer," you could say "I said a private prayer," or "I breathed a private prayer." That multiplies the significance of that line. Make us see what your character is seeing, and feel what he is feeling. Don't just tell us what he sees or feels.

This is easier said than done, and I admit to not being good at it myself. Actually, I'm better at seeing it in the work of others than in my own. That said, there are enough hooks in the story to make me want to read on. That's always a good sign. I'll get back to it when I have some time.

A

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Anne. This is the set-up chapter. When I was in the Army. I received 11 anthrax shots. Took away part of my skill to remember. One reason I read non-stop. I hope vitamins and reading keep my mind alert. The characters are described in detail later. Each one, a tale of wonderful and hard life. I appreciate the comment. You are very kind. I am writing free-flow with some notes.

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'The Island-Part one'
Coyote Poetry,
This is a story of hope. I followed closely your despair and the the gradual uphill climb to a better place. In reading of this little town near a beautiful lake it seemed figurative of how we seek something better. This story was worth the time it took to read for sure. I think that the core of this write was how bendable humanity can be. You have overcome a lot! I wish you every blessing and look forward to your story's continuation.
Kathy

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Kathy. Life is not easy for no-one. We learn to appreciate the good days.

[Kathy Van Kurin]

Thank you Coyote,
Life is challenging and I agree we do find the beauty and preciousness of love and freindship. Your poem showed this in a tangible way. Bless you and keep up your good work.
Kathy

[Dave]

Without a doubt it sounds like you have found the idyllic spot, perhaps to simply rest or to stay forever. I'm sure there is a reason the town is named Idyllic. What I've read, so far, I've very much enjoyed.

Take care - Dave

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Dave for reading. My new book. I am working on. A place where people learn to live again.

[Dave]

Very good - it didn't take me too long to figure it out from the title.
Take care - Dave

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Dave for reading the chapter. I do appreciate.

[Patricia Wedel]

dear John... when we are lonely and we find an island with
kind people and good food, we are happy. A gentle way of
bringing peace and contentment. truly, Pat

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Pat for reading. This is my new baby, I must finish.