Growing up was good on my brother and I. Toronto, Ontario. This is the place where it all started, for our family. I look back now and see my time there as invaluable. Oh of course it had its problems, but that's all part of what makes our family our family. After the seemingly endless school years in our urban setting, John (that's my brother) and I would always look forward to the two month stay at our own personal getaway, Crystal Bay. It wasn't actually a bay as the name implies, rather a small lake connected to a serious of other lakes, as is common place in Ontario. Nor, did it have eels as the name also implies. Quite simply, it was our haven of rest.
Within Crystal Bay, there was a small island, located on this island my grandparents on my mothers side, staked their plot. It was a beautiful house, not to large, but not small either, the previous owners had built a woodworking area along the bottom floor, which was soon turned into the kids (being my brother and I) room.
This room felt almost like a cellar, but was well adapted for sleep after the long endless summer days spent frolicking in the lake or around the island. Not a single window was located in this room, and the darkness engulfed the two of us every night. It did seem a large fright at first, but soon became a needed comfort. I still remember that room, and if I think back to it I can almost believe I am small again, waking to another day of whatever fantasy I wish to come true. To the East of the house, was a large garage my grandfather had built, which was loosely off limits to us. However,