Northeastern Minnesota - home to what may well be America's most unique national park - the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. Over one million acres of unparalleled, primitive beauty that, to this day, remains unspoiled. A great roadless area where, hundreds of years ago, Native People and French Voyageur alike, navigated over the innumerable lakes and rivers, using the sky-blue waters as their free-spirited highways. It is in this remarkable place where Ray Maki has lived his entire life. For thirty-three years, Ray has been surrounded by old friends, strong family ties, and uncommon natural beauty. Ray feels blessed, and his life is a happy one...until one spring morning when Ray's easy-going existence is jeopardized by a series of unexpected events...events that will eventually test the limits of his character, and possibly bring an end to his rare way of life.
Pike Point
And the Good Lord's EarthBy Greg SuhonenAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Greg Suhonen
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4389-7595-5Chapter One
May 1922
Normally, Paavo was a patient man. He was quiet and soft-spoken, almost to the point of being shy. Most people who first met him, if asked, would say he was polite and respectful. Even so, were he to be caught in a rare, unguarded moment, those around him would be treated to a good-natured glimpse of his razor-sharp wit. Paavo was an easy man to like.
But not this morning. This morning was different. Politeness and respect were the farthest things from Paavo's mind because right now he would like nothing better than to rip the huge map right off the wall and tear it into ten thousand satisfying shreds. A sly grin crept into one corner of his mouth when the image of him standing ankle-deep in the hopelessly torn up piece of paper entered his thoughts. Besides, all of his happy plans were in ruins, so really, he had nothing left to lose by having a frenzied fit.
Feeling as though he'd just been given the go-ahead, an irresistible temptation forced Paavo's hands from his pockets. Very casually, he scanned each end of the courthouse hallway. The few people he saw seemed too preoccupied with their own affairs to pay any notice of him. If he did actually this, he'd have to be quick. No standing around in a pile of scrap paper admiring his dirty work. One big pull, Paavo decided, then he would run. Then he would feel so much better.
Then he hesitated.
And in that split-second pause, the better part of Paavo's quiet nature took over. What in the world had come over him, he wondered. That type of behavior wasn't like him at all. This was foolishness. And think of how humiliating, to be the center of that kind of attention. He had better get a grip and he had better do it now, otherwise the last three years of his life would be for nothing.
Red-faced and scolded by his own thoughts, Paavo slid his hands back into his pockets. But the angry frustration stayed in his head and was reason enough for Paavo allowing himself to stab a nasty glare back at the smug map. That feeble act did little to rid him from the strong urge to yank the drawing down from the wall. So, as a poor substitute, Paavo pinched the brim of his day-old tweed cap and snatched it off the top of his head. He felt much better when the hat slapped sharply against his thigh. With his free hand, Paavo scratched around at his sandy blond hair. That much accomplished, he set the stiff cap back in place only to shift it around every few seconds. He could find no peaceful place for it. He soon gave up the search for a comfortable spot and simply pulled down hard on the brim, wedging the cap tightly to his head.
Paavo had been here for a good while, staring, studying, trying to make some sense of the strange-looking map but there were just too many lines, and too many numbers. They all seemed to run together into a jumbled, nonsensical mess.
Earlier, others had come to gaze upon the map. Business people, he had assumed, with their dark, pin-striped suits and looping watch fobs that made him feel inadequate and out of place. These important people never lingered very long, stopping for only a minute or two as they carefully jotted down the numbers and letters they had deciphered from the perplexing drawing. Everyone seemed to understand what they were doing. Everyone, that is, except him.
But no one had come to read the map for some time and now Paavo regretted he had not asked a few harmless questions. He justified his lack of nerve by telling himself those people probably wouldn't have been able to understand him anyway. Paavo's shy reserve had cost him though, because left on his own he'd had no success in coaxing any secrets from the stubborn map. The long half-hour he had been here was a total waste. To make matters worse, he was running out of time.
A quick glance up at the hard-ticking wall clock prompted Paavo to again slide the hat from his head. He willed his eyes back onto the map and unconsciously twisted the cap into a tight mass, as if wringing it free of any water.
The closely-packed elevation lines of the topographical map had Paavo baffled. He had never seen anything quite like it. Adding to his confusion, this region, this Minnesota Arrowhead, also contained thousands of streams, rivers and lakes. All these extra, random lines were represented on the plat and they snaked and scattered themselves freely across the entire length of the paper. The busy map was also littered with dozens of pins, and to each pin, a white paper flag had been attached. Each flag was lettered and numbered but that meant nothing to Paavo. He could not read English.
He hadn't anticipated anything like this, not the need to gather information from the map, or the necessity to understand the written word. Paavo felt as if he had recklessly jumped into fast-moving water that was way over his head. His hope of buying land was fading away with each passing second. He edged closer to the wall and leaned in, his blue eyes squeezed into a deep squint.
It did not help.
His attention shifted to a large, blank area on the right, a westerly slice of Lake Superior, and the only feature he could correctly identify.
"A little child know dat," he muttered quietly to himself.
Paavo shook his head and backed away from the wall. He looked left, then right, trying to spot someone, anyone, who could help. Too late, the hallway of the Duluth Courthouse was nearly deserted and no help came. Paavo looked up to the clock once more and immediately turned away, avoiding the blunt reality that the county land auction would be starting at any minute. Nevertheless, the undeniable truth of the matter managed to sink in and Paavo let out a tired sigh, releasing the troubled tension that had built up inside of him.
He had run out of time.
In English, Paavo whispered, "It be over."
He donned the distorted hat and jammed his hands deep into his pockets, ready to leave. He stopped short when the fingers of his left hand curled around a tight roll of hard-earned money.
In Finnish, Paavo thought, "Eight hundred dollars. Surely that would have been enough money to get the land I want."
He thought too, about the many hours of back-breaking work that had helped him earn his small fortune. For the past three years, each spring, summer and fall, he had bored, hammered and loaded iron-rich ore from the murky depths of a seasonal underground mine. In each winter of those three years, he had chopped, sawed and froze in the logging camps of northern Minnesota. He had scrimped and saved. He had worked to exhaustion and gone without, just to get to this very day, in this very place; all those countless hours of harsh labor he had endured; all for the chance to bid on some land. And now that he was finally here, he didn't even know where to begin. All he knew was this poorly-planned disaster was over.
"Nothing but a far-fetched dream," he decided sadly.
Paavo gave one final look to the unfeeling map, hoping for a last- second miracle. It offered nothing.
"Time to go," he whispered.
"Excuse me?"
The high pitched voice was unexpected and Paavo nearly jumped out of his new shoes. He spun to his right but saw no one there.
"May I help you?"
This time the voice also came with a tug at his opposite sleeve. He turned toward the tug and looked down to see a very short and very stout woman staring up at him.
"May I help you, young man?" she repeated.
Paavo nodded slightly and frowned, unsure of what the old lady could do for him.
"I've been watching you from my office for some time," she said, pointing to an open doorway directly behind them. "Are you here for the land auction?"
She talked very fast, as did most Americans. He had to pause so he could absorb the meaning of her words.
"Ya, I neet help wit lant aukshun," Paavo answered, forcing a small smile.
She smiled back, held out her hand and spoke slower, after hearing his heavy accent.
"Good morning. My name is Eva St.Jude. I work here at the courthouse ... in the Land Department."
"Paavo Maki," he said, shaking her hand while automatically taking off his cap.
"Very good. Now, let us get started."
Eva lifted the eyeglasses that hung loosely from the light chain around her neck and perched them near the tip of her nose. She gave Paavo a serious, teacher-type look.
"Where are you from, Mr. Maki?"
"Finland," he said proudly.
"No. No. My mistake. I meant, where do you live now? I'm guessing, that you want to bid on land, close to where you live."
"I liff close by Ely."
"My, you certainly have come a long way, haven't you?"
Paavo nodded and stole another glance up at the clock. Less than a minute left. Eva turned to the map and magically pulled out a pencil from the backside of her braided hair-do. Careful not to disturb any of the pins on the map, she lightly touched the pencil to a large black dot on the western tip of Lake Superior.
"This is where we are, in Duluth, at the County Courthouse ... Okay?"
She waited for his assent. He nodded quickly.
"Very good." Slowly, she ran the pencil tip up the map, stopping it at a smaller black dot. "And this, is the town of Ely."
"Ely!"
Paavo's face flushed with excitement. He had his bearings. His eyes scanned up, stopping a short distance north of the small speck. One of the dark outlines he stared at...Yes, there it was!
"Lust Vomen Lek!" he blurted out.
"What!?"
It was Eva's turn to be startled.
"Lust ... Vomen ... Lek." Paavo said it slower, his pronunciation sounding exactly the same.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Maki."
Eva couldn't tell if he was speaking Finn or English. Paavo quickly tried a different approach.
"Pike Point ... un Lust Vomen Lek."
Eva's eyes opened wide.
"Ahhh, now I get it. The parcel you want to bid on, is land that is located on Lost Woman Lake! Pike Point to be exact."
"Ya! ... Yes!" Paavo could barely contain himself. "I come to pid munny un Pike Point."
He watched closely as Eva's pencil tracked north of Ely and stopped at the uppermost pin on the map. It was marked: "Lot No.1- Parcel 10161932"
Paavo had just recognized the shape of the lake as Lost Woman, with its' jagged shoreline and full myriad of its many islands. He watched as Eva rose to her tiptoes and pulled the tiny flag off the map, although his eyes remained on the small jut of land where the pin had been pulled out. The tiny Point looked so insignificant up there on the wall. But Paavo knew better. He had been out to look over the site three times, and each time, he considered it a wonder.
"If I could ever be so lucky," he always thought.
The base of Pike Point was nearly five-hundred feet wide and its peninsula aimed due north. The long neck of land narrowed, widened again in the middle, and finally finished into a hooked-shaped end. A quiet, circular bay hugged the west shore, with the open water of Lost Woman to the north and east. Scattered all along the nearly half-mile length of the Point were huge Norway and White Pine. Balsam Fir, Jack Pine and Upland Spruce also grew there. There was even a small smattering of White Birch. The natural acidity of the fallen pine needles had hindered any brushy, cluttering undergrowth allowing a clear view of the lake from almost anywhere Paavo stood. The tall, evergreen canopy furnished filtered light to the forest floor below and bestowed upon it a soft shade and a soothing presence.
It was perfect. The first time he set eyes on it he hoped out loud that a timber company would not want to bid on this remote, isolated parcel of land.
"They will clear cut and ruin it," he knew.
He'd seen that sort of thing happen before.
On each of his three trips to the Point, Paavo had wandered the entire loop of the rocky shoreline. He would stop every so often and look over the sparkling-blue water to the green, pine-packed islands that dotted Lost Woman Lake, mesmerized by the beauty of what his eyes were taking in.
"This is it," he would think. "The land I've been waiting for."
And after each visit, before leaving Pike Point, Paavo would stop and offer a meek but hopeful prayer, thinking all the while, perhaps he was asking for too much.
Eva's voice brought him back to the business at hand.
"Oh dear," she said, staring at the flagged pin she had just pulled out. "Pike Point is Lot Number One. That means it's the first parcel up for sale. You had better hurry upstairs, Mr. Maki. It's nine o'clock. The auction may have already started."
Her last sentence need not have been said. She turned toward her young student only to see Paavo sprinting up the nearby staircase.
"Ask for Room Three-Oh-Nine!" she shouted. "And good luck to you!"
Eva stretched up and placed the pin back on the map. She stared up at the noisy clock and made a mental note to have it replaced. The constant ticking was very annoying. Eva smirked when she looked again at the empty stairwell.
"That's right. Good luck, Paavo Maki. God knows you'll need it."
One hour later, a smiling clerk handed the Certificate of Title for Pike Point to a rattled Paavo. Before leaving, Paavo thanked the nice man again, only this time he said it in English.
The hectic proceedings of the auction, and the confusing paperwork that followed, had flown by so rapidly that all of it felt like a confusing blur. Paavo searched around in the growing bustle of the courthouse for a quiet place where he could be alone. Gradually making his way down to the first floor, Paavo found an empty restroom. He leaned lightly on the lavatory sink and dropped his new cap into the waste basket. Very carefully, as though the stiff paper may break apart before his eyes, he unfurled the deed. He stared at it for a long time, knowing that in his hands, he held his dreams. From this day forward his life would be much different - much better.
The seals, stamps and signatures meant little to Paavo, nor did he understand the printed words. What he did understand was this document represented a new beginning; not only for him, but for any that may follow in his footsteps. Pike Point was the perfect place to start over.
With that happy thought, Paavo's heart saddened when his mind flashed back to the dire circumstances that had caused him to leave Finland. In 1917, at the age of eighteen, he had buried both parents and a younger brother after an influenza outbreak swept through their small village. That same winter a fierce civil war broke out, with the Germans and Russians taking up opposite sides in the conflict, in a bitter struggle to gain political control of his country.
In the face of all that turmoil Paavo could think of no good reasons to stay any longer. It was time to leave. Hard though it was, Paavo sold the old family homestead and said a last goodbye to his departed family. He tucked his money into a shoe, lied about his age and left for America.
April of 1919 would find him at Ellis Island in New York, then on to Minnesota, where so many Finns had come before him. A very fine place, he had been told. A place where he could find plenty of work; and if you went up north, that place would remind him of Finland. Except, maybe it was a little colder.
And now, five years later, after losing everything, and thousands of miles from his homeland, here he was, the proud owner of some of the most beautiful land he had ever seen. Unlike the Old Country he'd left behind, anything was possible in this part of the world. All you had to do was work hard, try your best, and good things happened. Paavo agreed with the phrase his fellow immigrants had repeated to him, so many times.
"Only in America," he whispered.
Paavo nodded ruefully, reminding himself that only one short hour ago he had almost quit and run out on his dream.
"What if I had given up back in Finland, like I nearly did today?"
Paavo knew the answer even as he asked himself the question. There would be no America and no Pike Point. Life in the Old Country would have been dreary, and lonesome. A sad life. A life filled with only mindless work and too much hard bread.
"Never again will I be that weak," he vowed silently.
It was a priceless lesson Paavo would carry with him the rest his life.
From his very first visit to Pike Point, Paavo had envisioned a whole new way of life. The lake and surrounding land could feed and sustain him, year-round if need be. The Point could not only provide the materials for shelter, it also offered a solid place on which to build that new way of life.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Pike Pointby Greg Suhonen Copyright © 2009 by Greg Suhonen. Excerpted by permission.
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