Bedrock Faith by Eric Charles May

Author:Eric Charles May [May, Eric Charles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Humorous, Literary, Christian, General, African American, ebook, book
ISBN: 9781617751967
Google: d57NmgEACAAJ
Amazon: 1617751960
Barnesnoble: 1617751960
Goodreads: 17675171
Publisher: Akashic Books
Published: 2014-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THREE

Let’s Get Away From It All

As Stew Pot said, that Wednesday morning Mrs. Motley and Mr. McTeer had gone away again with the Powells. In the roomy brown sedan they rode east through coastal Indiana—past Whiting and Hammond and Gary and Michigan City—and then north a much shorter distance through the Michigan Harbor Country—Michiana and Grand Beach and New Buffalo—their drive ending at the lakefront community of Union Pier.

The Powells’ vacation house was a small white stucco cottage at the lake end of a row of similar white cottages. There were three snuggly bedrooms, one bath, and a patio on the west side. Lake Michigan could not be seen from the patio (although the waves were quite audible) because a thick stand of trees and brush stood between it and the beach. The shore was accessed by way of a sandy trail that curved downhill through the densely shaded area and then, like the mouth of a cave approached from the inside, presented a grand panorama of sandscape and water.

The Powells had bought the cottage in the early 1950s, and a few years later Mrs. Motley and her husband, along with Mr. McTeer and his wife, purchased cottages of their own in a nearby wooded area just down the road. The three families, sometimes joined by Mr. and Mrs. Hicks and their daughters, spent many a summer weekend, and a fortnight at the end of every August, at Union Pier. But that had been awhile ago. When their spouses had passed, Mrs. Motley and Mr. McTeer sold their respective cottages, neither feeling the need for a vacation house with no one to share it with. They still liked Union Pier however, which over the years had become home and haven for a diverse and artsy crowd. For a week every August they joined the Powells up there, spending their time reading, barbecuing, strolling the lake, playing cards, sleeping late, and enjoying local restaurants and crafts stores.

Not wanting to get away from his normal work/sleep schedule, in the afternoons Mr. Powell took long naps and his wife joined him. Mrs. Motley and Mr. McTeer, to give their hosts some alone time, took themselves to the beach where they sat side by side on lawn chairs facing the water. (If it was raining, they strolled beneath big umbrellas along the nearby roadways.)

On those sunny days, with poetry books in hand, Mr. McTeer wore a straw hat to the beach, the kind with the round upturned brim that’s frayed at the edges. Mrs. Motley wore a straw hat too, hers featuring a wide, neat brim tilted slightly down. Beside him she’d kick off the deck shoes of her rather large feet—10 double-E—and work her toes idly in the sand. It was the sort of casual behavior she had always allowed herself at Union Pier, and which Mr. McTeer had always enjoyed.

At Union Pier Mrs. Motley wore no ankle-length pencil skirts or blouses buttoned high. At Union Pier she wore Bermuda shorts and loose cotton tops with the shirt tails out.

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