Chapter 8
At first, I thought my grandmother was going to show me something in her cabin, but she only stopped at the kitchen door long enough to retrieve two sturdy walking sticks from the corner of the mudroom.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked as I took the stick she handed me. It had been stripped of bark and polished to a fine shine, but all the original twists and whorls of the wood were still clearly visible.
"You'll see," my grandmother said and continued up the road to the meeting hall.
But we didn't stop there either. She led me down a path between the side of the building and the bank of the river to the back patio of the hall used for outdoor seating when the nights were warmer. The picnic tables and plastic lawn chairs were all neatly stacked and covered with tarps aga
