Kat couldn’t imagine that. Ma was so proper.
“It was a terrible time for us when your father lost his boat. And it’s painful to see how much he still misses going to sea. But think of the women in Cape Light whose men have been taken by the sea forever. And the children lost to pneumonia and influenza and scarlet fever. I have blessing upon blessing.”
“I know, but—”
“I don’t love getting out of a warm, cozy bed for the morning watch—but I’m happy, Kat. I like making a home, I like puttering in the vegetable garden, I like tending the chickens.”
Ma couldn’t mean that. The chicken coop behind the cottage smelled!
“Ma, I want so much more! I want to live in a big city. I want my art to be important, not just a girlish hobby.”
“I think times are changing for women, Kat. Honestly, I don’t know if that’s good or bad. But you can’t forget to enjoy what you already have. Perhaps you could pray for contentment.” Ma got up to wipe the table. “It’ll be easier for you when you have more free time. Todd will be old enough to take a watch in another year or so.”
“I think he’s old enough right now,” Kat said.
“Todd’s the serious one in this family, our scholar,” Mom said. “I know that makes him seem older, but he’s only ten.”
James still had that round, baby face and soft blond hair, Kat thought. But Todd had become tall and lean, with high cheekbones. He still wore knickers and he had that funny cowlick in his dark brown hair, but he’d lost a lot of his boyishness. Why couldn’t Ma see he was growing up? It would be nice to have a few evenings off. “I still think he—”
Suddenly Sunshine jumped up and ran to the door. It burst open with a blast of cold and the smell of the sea. Papa’s tall rugged shape filled the doorframe.
“Papa!”
He closed the door against the wind, pulled Ma into a bear hug, and leaned down to plant a kiss on Kat’s nose. “The best freckle, second from the right,” he said. “How’s my favorite daughter?”
“I’m your only daughter!”
“If I had ten more, you’d still be my favorite!”
They’d said the exact same lines to each other since she couldn’t remember when, but Kat still liked it.
“You’ve had a long day,” Ma said.
“We got every boat tied down, every line secured, prepared for anything.” Papa scratched behind Sunshine’s ears. “I’m bone tired and ready for some hot chowder! Without tomatoes, I hope?”
“You have no imagination,” Ma said. “There’s life beyond milk and potatoes.”
“Not for clams.” His eyes squinted with his smile. Papa pulled off his knit wool cap. His auburn hair, the same color as Kat’s, tumbled down his forehead. “So they were saying a squall by morning, but the wind feels like it’s picking up. My guess is it will hit earlier. We’ll lock down the shutters tonight.”
“God willing, it’ll pass by Cape Light,” Ma said.
“And all that work for nothing?”
Kat didn’t want to notice how bad Papa’s limp was tonight. He sat down to pull off his work boots. “Kat, it’s time to stand watch.”
“I know.”
“It should be a quiet night,” he said. “Only a fool would take a boat out with a storm heading this way.”
Kat got up reluctantly and took her yellow oilcloth slicker from the hook by the door. She hated to leave the warm circle of firelight, the smell of wood ashes, the scent of baking muffins that still hung in the air. She smiled at Sunshine curled under the table again, this time with his head resting on Papa’s feet.
“I’ll be up to relieve you at ten,” Papa said.
He looked so tired tonight and he’d be able to snatch no more than a few hours of sleep. “You can make it later,” Kat said. “Tomorrow is Saturday—no school.”
Kat braced herself against the wind as she opened the door. At the base of the lighthouse, it whipped her hair around and into her face. But it wasn’t hurricane force. The last time they’d had a hurricane, the outhouse tipped over and wasn’t that a mess!
Clouds streaked across a darkening sky. The red and yellow daymark above her stood out in the last bit of daylight. Soon it would become invisible in the night.
Kat climbed up the lighthouse ladder to the tower room, and continued up the second ladder high into the very top to the cramped space where the light was. There was a bell in case she needed to call for help. She checked the glass around the light. Clean and clear. Todd had done a good job.
She wound the spring that made the light revolve. There was hardly room to turn around up here; her elbows bumped the stone walls. She switched on the newly electrified light and watched it turn. Its rays could be seen for miles in all directions.
Kat climbed down the ladder to the room below. They’d had an Indian summer, but the nights were cold. Ma always cleaned the ashes out of the coal stove at the end of her morning watch. It was Kat’s job to stoke the new coals and keep the room warm for the long night ahead. She shoveled the coals around with an iron poker and tried to keep her hands clean.
Kat took the kerosene lantern from the shelf. She had to wash and polish the globe once a week, fill it with kerosene, and trim the wick. Well, it looked clean enough and it was full; she’d just filled it on her last shift. She trimmed the wick and lit it. The light was reflected in the dark windows.
She sat in her chair at the window facing the sea. There was nothing left to do but scan the horizon and be alert for a boat in trouble. If the fog rolled in, she would sound the fog horn.
The wind was whistling past and the ocean was choppy. She could barely see the outlines of the rocks. Everything appeared in different shades of black and gray, with no moon at all. Could she do something interesting with that? Daylight was fading too fast to think about painting. The light from the lantern was good enough for doing her arithmetic and spelling exercises, but there was no school tomorrow, so she certainly wasn’t about to do homework now!
Kat looked down at the cottage. The shutters were closed. Thin lines of light escaped between the slats.
The sky had become dark. The ocean had turned pure black. Kat could no longer tell the waves from the rocks, except when the lighthouse rays swept by in their steady circle.
She wished Amanda could have stayed to sleep over; they could be sitting here together and talking quietly, just the two of them. But Amanda had too many responsibilities. “I have to pick up Hannah at Mary Margaret’s and sort the clothes. The laundress is coming tomorrow,” she’d said when she left this afternoon.
Kat’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden absence of sound. The normal background noises were gone. The wind had stopped. She no longer heard waves crashing against the rocks. The air felt heavy in the silence.
Kat got up and went to the window. The ocean was still, waiting…. It felt as though the world was holding its breath. This was it, Kat thought. The calm before the storm.
A few raindrops pattered on the glass. Then more ran down in steady streams.
Soon the patter became a thousand drums as rain pelted against the windows. Huge waves battered the shore, smashing and roaring with unleashed fury. It was magnificent. A jagged line of lightning split through the dark.
Inside, Kat felt snug and secure. Papa was always caulking and keeping on top of repairs. The lighthouse was shipshape.
She looked toward the cottage. It was completely dark. Everyone must be tucked into bed and fast asleep by now. Too bad Todd and James were missing this. They’d love the drama of the storm.
Kat turned back to the raging sea. In the lighthouse ray, she caught a glimpse of something. Was it white? Could it be a sail? No, not in the middle of a storm like this!
Kat jumped from her chair and waited for the light to sweep around again. Yes, it was a boat! Her shoulders tensed. It was tossing on the waves like a child’s toy. On her watch! This wasn’t a night to be out. What should she do? What could she do? She watched helplessl
y as the boat kept heading her way, making for land. Please, whoever is on that boat, let them be good sailors!
The light turned in its rhythmic circle, pinpointing the treacherous rocks. Please, let the light show them the hazards and guide them safely to the beach. The boat looked so fragile! Kat gasped. For a horrible moment, she lost sight of it behind the raging waves. No, thank God, there was the white sail again. It was coming closer on a steady course. Close enough to clearly see the beach each time the light turned. They could make it, they had to make it….
Was that a flicker? Kat held her breath. No, she must have blinked, because when she looked again, there was the even beacon sweeping the shore. Kat went limp with relief and watched the rotating ray.
The light flickered again! No, she wasn’t imagining it! A hissing, stuttering sound came from the top of the tower. What was happening? Kat’s skin prickled. Something was terribly wrong! But the light had never failed. Another flicker. She froze in panic.
Suddenly the light went out! No! Everything was plunged into darkness. “Papa!” she cried out. “Papa!” She was on her own. All alone. No beacon. And a boat was out there in the night, floundering on the waves.
four
Kat’s heart pounded. There was no time to get help. The boat was too close! It would never be able to navigate around the rocks in the dark. She pulled the foghorn. Its bleats were a deafening warning, but it couldn’t guide the boat in.
What did Papa say to do if this happened? It had never happened. Her mind was racing, splintering. She couldn’t think. She took a deep, shuddering breath. All right. Steady now. Think! The alarm bell!
Kat grabbed the kerosene lantern, its light wavering wildly in her shaking hand. She climbed up the second ladder. Her legs were trembling so, she almost stumbled. She had to stop shaking, the kerosene was sloshing around…Her hand on the bell’s rope was all thumbs. She was clumsy with fear. She pulled the rope, up and down, with all her strength. The peals rang out.
Please, let it wake Papa! Could he hear it over the roar of the storm? Even if he did, it would be too late! She had to do something now!
Kat held the lantern up against the glass facing the ocean. But at sea they’d see only a tiny light high up in the tower. Not enough to illuminate the rocks. Not enough to keep a boat from shattering on them. She had to do something else. But what? What?
Take the lantern to the beach, Kat thought. Show them where to come ashore. Their only chance. Hurry!
She grabbed the lantern, scrambled down both ladders, and ran out of the lighthouse. The rain drenched her immediately. She ran onto the strip of beach, tripping on fallen branches, fighting for her balance.
Kat held the lantern as high as her arm could reach. She ran from one end of the beach to the other. A moving light, to show them safe boundaries. Would they understand her signal? Oh please, God, let me guide them in! Please, not a shipwreck on the rocks!
Gasping for breath, she ran back and forth as best she could. Her feet were being sucked into the wet sand. Her blouse and her skirt were soaked and heavy. She remembered her slicker, still on the chair where she’d tossed it. She shivered and held the lantern up. Up and up. Her arm ached. It began to shake, every muscle trembling from effort. The wind threatened to knock her down. The lantern, that was the important thing, she had to hold it high. She couldn’t stop, no matter what.
Lightning flashed through the sky. The boat was close enough to see. It was coming her way. Coming to the beach. Please, God, help me save them.
Time had become meaningless. Were minutes going by or hours? The storm, the boat, the rain. Her legs wouldn’t run anymore. Walking. The lantern high. Lashing wind. Kat pushed wet hair from her eyes. Pain sliced from her shoulder to her wrist. She gritted her teeth. Walking. Can’t trip. Hold the lantern up. Was it rain streaking down her cheeks or tears?
Through misty eyes, as though she was dreaming, Kat saw the boat wash ashore on the sand.
A man and a woman waded through swirling waist-high water and floundered onto the beach. And then she heard a voice behind her. Papa’s voice. “Kat!”
“Papa!” Kat sagged against him. “Papa, the light went out!”
“I know, I heard the bell.”
The man from the boat stared at her in amazement. “Was that you? Only you and that lantern? I can’t believe a young girl—”
“I didn’t think we’d make it,” the woman sobbed. “Thank you. It was horrifying! Waves swamped the deck and…the thunder, the lightning…”
“Hush, Evelyn.” The man put his arm around her. “We’re all right now.”
“Those terrible waves.” Sheets of rain plastered the woman’s hair to her head. Her eyes were wide with shock. “When everything went dark I was sure we were lost. I was sure it was the end.”
“Kat, take these people to the cottage.” Papa looked up at the lighthouse. “I need to see what happened.” The wind snapped his oilcloth. “Please, go with my daughter. My wife has dry clothes and—”
“It was calm when we started….” The man had toraise his voice to be heard over the pounding surf. “We’re so grateful—”
“No time for talk now. I’ve got a light that needs fixing and you need to get out of this storm,” Papa said. “Go on, Kat, hurry inside.”
In her attic bedroom, Kat dripped puddles on the wood-plank floor. She shivered. I’m safe now, she reminded herself. And those people are safe. And Ma will give us something hot to drink and…it’s over. It’s all over.
She peeled off her wet clothes. Her skirt and blouse were a soaked mess. And her shoes! What she wouldn’t give for a hot bath now! But she didn’t have the strength left to boil up the water and carry it to the washtub. Anyway, she wanted to see the couple. Evelyn and Kenneth Carstairs, Kat remembered. They had introduced themselves on the way to the cottage. Kat pulled on a heavy sweater and skirt. She toweled her hair. She couldn’t stop shivering as she rushed downstairs.
The Carstairses were sitting at the table in front of steaming cups of tea. Papa’s fisherman-knit sweater was miles too big for Mr. Carstairs. Mrs. Carstairs was wearing Ma’s best cable cardigan. A blanket was draped over her shoulders.
“Katherine,” Mrs. Carstairs said, “you were our guardian angel!”
Kat smiled and gulped down her tea. It burned her tongue, but the hot liquid took the chill from her body.
On the table, hurricane lamps flickered. A log was blazing in the fireplace. The Carstairses’ cold-weather sailing gear lay in a pile on the hearth.
“We just closed our summer house in Shorehaven,” Mrs. Carstairs said. “It was calm when we started out.”
“The squall wasn’t supposed to hit until morning,” Mr. Carstairs said. “I thought it was still rounding Hatteras—”
“And we were heading home,” Mrs. Carstairs continued. “If it wasn’t for Katherine’s bravery…I’m so sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused.”
“No trouble at all,” Ma said. “We’ll put Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs in your room tonight.” She touched Kat’s shoulder. “Set up a bedroll for yourself in the boys’ room. I think you need to go to bed.”
Soon, Kat thought. She was getting sleepy….
“I know it’s late in the season, but Shorehaven is so lovely this time of year,” Mrs. Carstairs was saying.
“We left in daylight, but we had trouble with a sail. One piece of bad luck after another, and it was twilight long before we could reach our destination,” Mr. Carstairs said.
“We decided to dock at Cape Light for the night,” Mrs. Carstairs added.
“Please don’t think we’re completely foolhardy,” Mr. Carstairs said. “We’re experienced sailors. We’ve been in any number of regattas along the New England coast and of course, the big one out of Newport.” He sighed. “I was so sure we could beat the storm home to Boston.”
Boston! Kat sat up straight, suddenly wide awake.
“You live in Boston? There’s a famous art museum, isn’t there?” As soo
n as she asked one question, ten more popped into Kat’s head. “Do the Public Gardens really have swan boats? Do you ride trolleys? Is the Charles River—” Kat bit her lip. Ma’s sharp look reminded her that asking too many questions wasn’t polite.
Mrs. Carstairs smiled. “I don’t know which to answer first.”
“Kat, not now. I think everyone’s exhausted.” Ma glanced at the Carstairses. “We’re all about ready to turn in.”
Mr. Carstairs nodded. “It’s been an eventful night.”
But, Kat thought, it’s my one chance to hear all about Boston! “Please, may I just ask—is Commonwealth Avenue—”
“Kat, go on to bed,” Ma ordered.
“But, Ma—”
“Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs will be here in the morning,” Ma added more softly. She handed Kat a hurricane lamp.
“And I’ll be happy to tell you anything you want to know.” Mrs. Carstairs smiled. “Good night, Katherine. You were wonderful. Thank you again.”
“Sleep tight, Kat.” Ma smiled.
Kat reluctantly went up to her room. She put on her flannel nightgown and her fuzzy robe. Sunshine will keep me warm, she thought. Wait. Where was he? Why wasn’t he curled up in his usual spot at the foot of her bed? Then she spotted the tip of a white tail poking out from under the bed.
“Come on out, scaredy dog. A big dog like you…. There’s no lightning indoors, silly.”
Sunshine wriggled out from under the bed. Kat could swear he looked embarrassed.
She took the bedroll and an extra quilt from the cupboard, the star quilt made by Grandma Williams long ago. She tiptoed into her brothers’ room with Sunshine following close behind.
The light of her candle showed Todd asleep on the top bunk. He turned over, but he didn’t wake up. James was in the lower bunk, his arms and legs spread out. His breath whistled softly. They’d slept through all the excitement!
Katherine's Story Page 3
