I followed him up the staircase. The house had a beautiful staircase, I had to say that much. The treads themselves were all hardwood, with a matching rail and thin wooden posts. My old man the self-taught carpenter would have been impressed as hell.

“These are guest rooms down here,” he said, “and this is the master suite.” There was a king-size bed, all made up in white with lavender trim. “It probably goes without saying, but my wife did the decorating. Here’s the bathroom in here. What do you think?”

I looked in and saw a raised whirlpool tub, a separate shower, two vanity mirrors, two sinks. The fixtures gleamed like pirate treasure. “This is something else,” I said. I had already been thinking to myself that the bedroom was bigger than my cabin. Now I was wondering if the bathroom was bigger, too.

“We carry these tubs now,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe how expensive they are. Go ahead, take a guess.”

“I wouldn’t even know,” I said.

“Ah, never mind,” he said. “That’s tacky. Here, I want to show you the best room of all now.”

He led me to the end of the hall and opened the door. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust-this was the only room in the house that wasn’t as bright as an operating room. He turned up a dimmer switch so I could see where I was going. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on two walls, some nautical maps on another wall. By the window there was a telescope on a tripod. “I call this my ‘lake room,’” he said. “Here, come look.”

He turned the dimmer back down as I looked through the telescope. It was pointed to the northwest. As I moved it, I could make out the Soo Locks and the International Bridge. During the day I was sure you’d be able to see into the lake itself.

“God, I love this lake,” he said. “Don’t you, Alex?”

I looked at him. With the light still down, I couldn’t make out his face, but his bald head seemed to glow.