A Letter From Winnie: 2039
Keeper of the Lake
by
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That night, with only a penlight and my mental map, I made four trips to the lakeside edge of the S1 pumping station. I wore an old pair of Al’s boots that were far too big for me so I stuffed my fluffy slippers inside them. I wanted them to believe that the perpetrator was a man and I hoped the footprints would steer them in the right direction. (On the way home, I discarded all the identifying clothing at a gas station in Grand Haven. I had forgotten how absolutely frigid Lake Michigan water is in May. I couldn’t feel my feet again until Gary, Indiana.) As I made my way to the water in the dark, I remember feeling bad about tramping down the Marram grass and then chuckled to myself in that nervous sort of way that children do when they are caught in a lie. I was about to dump one hundred pounds of chemical chaos into Lake Michigan and I was worried about Marram grass? When all four bags were assembled, I ripped open the plastic covers with Al’s old gutting knife. I dumped the pink Superfluff, along with a small bag of accelerator, into the intake channel just in front the pumping units and hastily gathered up the plastic bags in my arms. I scrambled back up the dune, feeling my age with every step. Al’s wading boots were full of water and I prayed that no Fluff had found its way into them. How I would have explained that to an emergency room nurse was past my imagination. By the time I reached my car, I could hear the horrid grinding as the slip-clutches on the pumps sounded the alarm. I dove into my nondescript car, shaking uncontrollably from chill and fear and–let’s face it–triumph. As I drove home through the night, I tried to get my mind around what I had done. Had I finally stepped over the line? The damages could well be in the millions. The five-hour drive left me wondering about the wisdom of my civil disobedience. Was it civil or uncivil? Did I care at this point? I arrived in Mt. Pleasant by 6:00 AM in time to shower and teach. I noted that my clothes had some pink tinges in the seams. I put them in the garbage for next week’s pick up. Surely, the FBI wouldn’t come looking for me before then. I spent Saturday sleeping with the help of a sleeping pill and a little sherry.
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About the Book
The time is 2018 and the South is out of fresh water. In a bold move of desperation, Madame President orders the diversion of Lake Michigan water to the thirsty southern states. Only one person stands between the president’s plan and its execution. Sixty year-old Winnie Anne Holmstead owns an acre of prime beach on Lake Michigan, just north of Muskegon and she will do almost anything to preserve the lake for future generations. She uses her knowledge of science and human nature to try to sabotage the Chicago-based diversion.
In 2039, Winnie, at age 80, dictates a letter to her four grandchildren. She is a wanted felon for sabotaging a federal facility and she wants to set the record straight. Eleven years later, her grandson, Jackson Holmstead, sets out to prove to his satisfaction the truth of her narrative. The investigation leads him to some memorable Michigan characters and in the process of investigating his Gram Winnie, he discovers a great deal about himself.
About the Author
Andrea started writing as the result of an award from Michigan Farm Bureau. As Young Farm Woman of the Year, she was asked to write a monthly column about farm life. In addition to the column, Andrea submitted a cartoon series about the trials and tribulations of being a woman farmer entitled “Farmette”. Andrea (with her husband Ken) farmed 350 acres of corn, wheat and soybeans for a dozen years in Michigan’s Thumb area before moving to central Michigan to resume a teaching career. Andrea Hofmeister is presently a general music teacher in the Mt. Pleasant, Michigan. She was selected as Teacher of the Year by the Michigan Music Educators Association in 2006. Andrea and Ken have two grown children, Mary and Nick, and a son-in-law, Thiago Carvalho. They live near the Chippewa River and enjoy the company of the wildlife and the wildflowers that flourish in that area.