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For as far back as Kyle can remember, he spent summers at Gram's cottage on the lake--fishing all day, and hanging out with the whole family. But this year is different. His father has moved out, his grandmother has died, and his mother is selling the cottage because they can't afford the upkeep.
Sally Derby takes readers to a small lake in 1970s Michigan, where thirteen-year-old Kyle comes to understand that loss isn't forever, and that people are more complicated than they seem.
Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Derby, Sally. Kyle’s island / Sally Derby. p. cm. Summary: Kyle, almost thirteen, spends much of the summer yearning to explore a nearby island, striving to be a good brother, fishing with an elderly neighbor, and fuming at his parents over their separation that is forcing his mother to sell the family’s cabin on a Michigan lake. ISBN 978-1-60734-506-0 [1. Conduct of life—Fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 3. Lakes—Fiction. 4. Islands—Fiction.
the bluegill, the more boldly he takes the bait, and that when you’re fishing shallow you don’t yank at every little dip of your bobber—you wait for a rapid downward plunge. We anchored there by the reeds for an hour or so, while the rain fell gently and the sky lightened. Then at about six, when the sun was just rising over the far end of the lake and a mother duck led a line of ducklings into the water down near the lily pads, the fish began to bite. I caught the first, a good-size sunfish,
lie down and just growl low in his throat when he decides he can quit barking now. When those cars went by, I’d sometimes consider writing Dad again, but I always decided against it. Andrea and Vicki wrote him, though. So did Mom. Even Josh did. Someone was always asking me if I wanted to add a P.S. Mom drove into Cassopolis every day to send everyone’s letters and check for mail at the post office there. But she always came back empty-handed. Big surprise. In the meantime, I was earning money.
Mom brought over a box of glazed doughnuts. “Dessert?” she asked with a smile. While we ate the doughnuts, we made a list of things for Mom to get from the little store on the way to Cassopolis. I asked, “Who’s going to go with you?” “I’m going by myself,” she answered. “I’ve a couple of things to do that won’t be interesting to any of you. Victoria, if you’ll watch Josh very carefully while I’m gone, I’ll see that you have time to sunbathe and read this afternoon. Andrea and Kyle will clean up
for a minute. I was poking holes in the can lid when a screech of laughter startled me. There were open windows between the kitchen and the screened porch. I moved closer to the window. “Well, I realize it’s not exactly what you want, but …,” Dave the Realtor was saying. “Not exactly?” Terri Thompson’s voice was shrill. “It’s impossible. What makes them think anyone will buy a dump like this?” “It’s a fishing cottage, not a resort, Ter,” said her husband. “Yeah, I know, but look at it. No