Free The Children by Ann Leary

know as little as possible about the lake’s task force. We’re aware that Spin and a few others are constantly measuring and sampling the water. We just don’t care to know all the details. Spin is a fascinating person with a great personality, except when he talks about the lake, or any environmental issues, really. Then he can be kind of a bore. On Laurel’s second day here, while we all sat out on the porch enjoying the lake breeze, she asked Spin about the task force.
    â€œDid you start the thing or what?” Laurel asked him.
    â€œOh no, it began long before I was even born,” Spin said.
    â€œIt was in the early 1970s. Whit was one of the people who started it,” Joan interjected. She thought it important for Laurel to know that she was on the Holden crew team then. She had been the captain of the first women’s varsity team at Holden. “We practiced every morning on the lake,” she explained. “You can’t believe how cold it was some mornings, but we were out there every day.”
    â€œYes,” Spin said. Then, when Joan offered nothing to link her rowing to the task force, he proceeded to tell Laurel that a few decades ago our lake was in jeopardy. There was an overgrowth of invasive plants (algae, blah, blah, blah). Runoff from lawns and farms (phosphorus, blah). Fertilizers (nitrogen, whatever), resulting in algal blooms. The task force hired biologists to do a study, then came up with a plan to keep the lake alive.
    â€œSo the lake was actually dying?” Laurel asked.
    â€œNo,” Joan said.
    â€œYes, it was dying,” Spin said. “Lakes and ponds die all the time. They’re living, breathing organisms, just like us.” He shielded his eyes then and squinted out at the water as if he were trying to read its very pulse. Joan turned to me and rolled her eyes.
    â€œLakes need nutrients in the form of phosphorus and nitrogen,” he continued. “But if they get too many nutrients, which can happen in the summer, the whole system is thrown out of whack. The water temperature rises. Too much algae blooms and it hogs up all the oxygen. And then you can have a real situation on your hands.”
    â€œOne worries about summerkill, dear,” said Joan to Laurel. “Now, who would like to go to the market with me?”
    â€œSummerkill?” Laurel asked.
    â€œYes, summerkill is when large populations of fish die off suddenly,” Spin said. “Lack of oxygen.”
    We haven’t had a summerkill in years. Spin has been working on a study with a team of environmental scientists at Yale; it’s a six-year study following the placement of giant aerators in the water. That’s why he regularly tests the water quality at various points on the lake.
    Now Spin was carrying on about invasive species.
    â€œThere are plants that aren’t indigenous to the lake,” Spin said, “but they arrive anyway, carried in on the feathers of ducks and geese, sometimes attached to the undersides of boats. So we have a team of volunteers, and they take turns monitoring the one boat ramp on the lake. We inspect each boat to make sure there’s no vegetation. But we can’t inspect every canoe or kayak that people launch.”
    â€œSpin,” Joan said, unable to bear another minute, “I don’t think your obsession with all this algae and whatnot is good for you, I really don’t. You can’t even enjoy the lake anymore.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Spin said, laughing. “Of course I enjoy the lake.”
    â€œHe’s like the lake’s constant diagnostician, always looking for some kind of pathology,” Joan said to Laurel. “He can’t even enjoy a nice sail.”
    Spin told Laurel not to listen to Joan, but she continued. “This lake is one of the cleanest, healthiest lakes in America. But the sight of one little sprout of—what is it, Spin? Eurasian