The Girl in the Lighthouse (Arrington)

by Roxane Tepfer Sanford

  “Really? That certainly would be an achievement.”

  “And Ayden—well, I don’t think he likes me much,” I said, and sighed heavily.

  “Why do you say that?”

  As she continued to take long strokes of my hair with the soft brush, I tried to think of an answer, but nothing at all came to mind. Momma saw my trouble.

  “I think I know why,” she said softly. I tilted my head and turned around to face her.

  “He thinks you are the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. Since the moment he laid eyes on you, since the first moment you stepped into the room, you captured his heart,” Momma said wistfully, her eyes glazed over, as if in her mind she were far away, in another time and place.

  “Momma, what do you mean?”

  Her eyes fell onto me and she smiled. “It means Ayden loves you and will someday proclaim his love to you.”

  I didn’t think for one minute that Momma was right. Ayden didn’t think I was beautiful; he didn’t love me. The only man who loved me was Daddy, and the only man I secretly wanted to be in love with me was Heath. If anyone someday would proclaim his love to me, I wanted it to be Heath. I wasn’t ready to confess to Momma my feelings about Heath. I was too embarrassed. I had seen what love was; I had seen Daddy and Momma together. They shared themselves in a way that both frightened me and left me curious at the same time. When Daddy kissed her, she would melt away in his arms, and nothing else mattered. When Daddy climbed in bed with her and they shared their bodies, I was afraid. On the nights that Daddy loved her, I closed my eyes and wished myself away. I was scared to have a man love me like that. I wouldn’t want Heath to love me in that way.

  “You look tired, my sweet girl. Why don’t you lie down and sleep?”

  I yawned and rubbed my eyes, then said, “I promised Daddy I would give the fog signal tonight.”

  “I will do that for him. You get some sleep; it has been a long day,” she said, and pulled the covers up over me.

  I agreed and kissed Momma goodnight. As she closed the door, I thought of what it would have been like if the fog hadn’t rolled in, and Heath had taken me out to his telescope and showed me the constellations. I hoped we would be able to do it some night. I hoped he wouldn’t forget his offer.

  By late morning, the fog had burned off, and shortly after cleaning up the breakfast dishes, which I washed over at the well pump, I suggested the boys and I go see if we could find some rocks with fossils in them. Heath thought it was a great idea. Ayden showed no interest.

  “I would rather haul the oil up to the tower than search for some boring fossils,” he grunted.

  “Okay, it’s your choice,” Heath said, shrugging his broad shoulders. He turned to me and winked, then said, “It’s just you and me, kid.”

  The day was warm, and as predicted, the brisk ocean breezes kept the summer days from ever becoming too hot. On the beach were thousands of rocks, both large and small. Immediately, Heath found a rock that had a plant fossil embedded in it.

  “What kind of plant do you think it was?” I asked, watching him peer closely at it.

  “I’m not sure. I will have to look it up in my book. Let’s get more, and we can make a pile over here.”

  We combed the shore and found dozens of rocks, and as I sat picking through our pile, Heath came over and said, “Close your eyes and put out your hand.”

  I did.

  “Okay, now open your eyes.” Heath placed a beautiful seashell in my hand. “That is called a King’s Crown.”

  I gazed up at him as the shimmer of the sun’s rays from the ocean cast a glow behind him. I couldn’t see his face, only his silhouette. No one had ever given me a gift before, except Momma and Daddy on my birthday. But it wasn’t my birthday, and the token gift was given to me by a boy who thought I must be special.

  “That’s for you to make a collection. Then you can learn every name of every seashell on the shore.”

  My heart sank as I realized Heath hadn’t meant it as a gift, but as a tool to learn. I swallowed my disappointment and said, “Thank you, Heath.”

  “You’re welcome, kid.”

  The day before, he had called me by my name, not “kid.” Kid was the name of a goat, not a girl. In spite of my frustration, I got up and continued to search for more seashells with him.

  “This one is an Imperial Venus. And this one is an Atlantic Bubble,” he said with great enthusiasm. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ayden lying on the ground, trying to hide and spy on us. If Heath saw him, he didn’t let on. Instead, he reached down, picked up a stone, and threw it as far as he could out into the water. In the distance, a schooner sailed by. Above us, the seagulls flew into the light wind; some landed and walked the beach.

  Heath then picked up another stone, but instead of throwing it out into the ocean, he quickly spun around and barreled the rock at Ayden.

  “I see you there, Ayden,” Heath called, laughter in his voice. Ayden scrambled to rise as Heath picked up another stone and aimed it at his brother, but this time, he did not throw it.

  “Why are you spying on us, little boy?”

  Ayden stood tall and proud, then picked up a piece of drift wood and flung it at us, almost hitting me.

  “Hey, you almost hit Lillian! Say you’re sorry,” Heath commanded. Ayden hurried to throw another stick. Heath’s eyes grew dark. Ayden saw his brother’s anger and turned to run, but Heath was fast on his trail. I scrambled up the small embankment and watched Heath catch up to Ayden and grab the back of his suspenders, then they both toppled to the ground.

  Ayden lay on the ground while Heath held his arms down to keep from being punched.

  “Say you are sorry,” Heath commanded.

  Ayden refused.

  “I’m going to hold you down until you say it, Ayden,” Heath warned. I stood over him and waited for Ayden to give in.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Ayden looked at me with eyes full of fury then looked away, muttering, “I’m sorry.”

  Heath loosed his hold on Ayden. I watched as Ayden ran off, heading far away, to the other side of the island. Heath stood and brushed the dirt from his trousers with his hands.

  “I apologize for my brother, Lillian,” he said softly, gazing over to where Ayden had run off. “He has a fire in him that I don’t understand.”

  I was taken in by Heath’s chivalry, in awe of his looks, and enamored with his gentlemanly charm. I thought of what Momma had told me the night before. There was absolutely no way Ayden felt anything other than hatred for me. I was certain of it.

  Not long after, we gathered our rocks and brought them back to the house. Heath and I parted ways at my front door.

  “I’ll see you later, kid. I’m going to go read for a while,” he said.

  “Bye, Heath.”

  I eagerly caught his inspiration and ran up to my room to take out one of the books I hadn’t yet read. I shuffled through the box and picked up The Innocents Abroad, by Mark Twain. Once again, as always when I read, my mind was transported to a place far away—to countries I imagined visiting some day. There I would meet new people and have new adventures, just like Mark Twain. I envisioned my journey taking several years, and by my side would be the man of my dreams. Before, the man I would someday marry had only been a vision as thick as the fog that rolled in almost every night we were stationed on Rock Ledge Island. Now my vision was clear, and for certain, the man who would share my adventures would be Heath Dalton.

  _______________

  Chapter Two

  At week’s end, Daddy, Momma, and I took the row boat and headed towards the harbor and the mainland. It was a once-a-week excursion Daddy and I made, if not hindered by the weather. Momma came along only that one time.

  The village was large, twice the size of the tiny harbor village we journeyed to from a vessel that took us off of Rock Ledge Island in years past. Then it was only for a day, and not more than twice a year. Then Daddy had been quiet, his expre
ssion forlorn. Momma had been thrilled to get off the isolated, gloomy island, as was I.

  This new village we ventured onto was bustling with activity. There were two large shipyards and several taverns by the docks. There were fisherman, as well as children and families walking the cobblestone road up to the main street, where there was a general store and several shops. There was a bank, a hotel, and a post office. It wasn’t long before I caught sight of the school house and the church just up a small hill. Momma and Daddy had never taken me to church. We did our Sunday praying at home and studied the Bible for most of the morning. Momma loved to sing hymns, and one day wished to have her very own piano. From what Momma told me, the Daltons rowed to the village every Sunday for services. She told me we wouldn’t be doing that. Momma also said by the end of the summer we were going to get back to our studies, and I wasn’t going to attend school with Heath and Ayden. I didn’t understand why.

  “But there is a school, and Heath will row us to the village. Momma, please, can’t I go?” I cried one night as she sat in her rocker and sewed a loose button back onto Daddy’s uniform.

  “No, Lillian. I am your teacher; you stay home with me.”

  “I don’t understand,” I pouted. Daddy returned from the woodshed and overheard our disagreement.

  “You will do as your mother says,” he stated, and threw her a look of worry.

  I stopped arguing with her about attending school with Heath and Ayden. Daddy’s law had been laid down, and I would never dare challenge it.

  I followed Daddy into the general store while Momma went over to the post office to pick up our mail. Usually, the only letters we received were envelopes with Daddy’s wages.

  Daddy talked to the store owner for quite a while as I walked around the small shop. On a high shelf sat a row of porcelain dolls. I had never owned a real doll before. These were beautiful; some had golden-blond hair, but the one I liked most had chestnut brown hair, the same exact color as Momma’s. The doll’s dress was navy blue with red ribbon, and she had on tiny black shoes.

  Daddy came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “I am finished here. Let’s go find Momma.”

  “Daddy, do you see that pretty doll?” I asked, pointing up to it.

  Daddy reached over, turned the price tag, and shook his head.

  “It is very pretty, Lillian, but it costs more than we can afford. And besides, I have a secret to tell you,” he said, lowering himself down to whisper in my ear. “I have ordered Momma a piano for her birthday next month.”

  I couldn’t imagine where Daddy got the money to buy Momma a piano, but it really didn’t matter. I knew how happy it would make her. I smiled widely, and Daddy reminded me to keep the secret hush. I swore I would.

  Momma had Daddy’s pay in hand, and together we headed over to the bank. Afterwards, we strolled back through the village. I walked ahead, noticing the other children playing in small groups by the docks. Because I was busy staring at them, I didn’t see the large man that stepped out of the tavern and plowed right into Momma. I spun around and watched Daddy throw a punch at the man while bystanders rushed to help Momma up.

  “Momma,” I cried, and ran over to her. Daddy laid a second punch into the sailor’s strong jaw, sending the man to the ground. He lay there, holding his face, glaring up at Daddy. Momma got to her feet with some help, and I hurried to let her lean on me.

  Daddy towered over the man that made Momma fall and protected her, just the way Heath had done for me.

  “Come, Garrett, take me back,” Momma said, her voice shaking.

  He turned his back on the man and took hold of Momma. “Are you sure you are all right, Amelia?”

  She nodded.

  All the way back to the island, I let Momma lean on me as we sat side by side in the boat. Momma was too frail to be knocked down like that. I saw the worry in Daddy’s handsome face. He rowed on against the current until finally we were back on Jasper Island. Daddy pulled the boat onto the shore and carried Momma off and all the way up to the house. Heath and Ayden came over to see what was wrong.

  After I had explained what happened, Heath hurried to get his mother so she could help tend Momma. Ayden stood there for a moment and stared at me, and instead of scowling, his eyes softened, and he helped me up the embankment without word.

  That night, Momma didn’t come up to brush my hair. She slept through supper. I helped Opal prepare supper then clean up the dishes. Edward took on the night shift, and Ayden assisted while Daddy stayed with Momma and watched her sleep. I stood at my window and gazed up at the sky, which was full of stars. I used to wish on stars when I was younger—that Momma would someday not be tired and sick. But as I grew older, I realized that my wishes weren’t coming true.

  Down below, I saw Heath make his way out to his telescope by the light of the moon. It wasn’t long before I was outside, trailing behind him. He didn’t see me and wasn’t aware that I sat and watched him peer through his telescope into the sky as the light from the beacon rotated out to the ocean. I watched him for what must have been hours, until I tired and my eyelids grew heavy. Too tired to fight it any longer, I rested my head on the cool, sandy ground, and drifted off to sleep. Later, I was woken by a sharp jab in my leg. I sat up and rubbed my tired eyes, trying to focus. With my vision blurred, I gazed up at what I believed was Victor’s ghost! He was an old man, probably more than one hundred years old.

  “Are you Victor?” I gasped.

  The ghostly old man didn’t speak, but turned and hobbled away into the blackness. With great fear, I scurried up and ran back to the house. I did the best I could to quietly creep in, not to wake Momma and Daddy. I was successful, and as soon as I got to my room, I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over my head. Ayden was right; the ghost of Victor was real!

  I didn’t mention my encounter with the ghost to anyone as a long, stormy week went by. I stayed inside and kept my nose in my books, or when I wasn’t reading, stayed with Daddy in the watch tower. With the bad weather, the light needed to be flashed throughout the day. By the fifth day of endless rain and fog, the inclement weather finally broke, and Momma emerged from bed. Daddy was worn from the days and nights tending the light and worrying over Momma. The light he kept on the sea now shined through Daddy’s eyes when she came and hugged him, then placed a long kiss on his lips. Daddy held her close to him and told her he didn’t know what he would do if he ever lost her. The two stood before the fire in the kitchen, unaware I was there. Their passion for each other tuned everything else out; the rest of the world didn’t exist. Even I was a mere shadow in the room.

  It wasn’t long before we were celebrating Momma’s birthday on a hot July evening. Edward, Heath, and Ayden had just finished the lengthy process of repainting the lighthouse tower, and they washed up just before we served supper. Opal showed me how to bake a cake, which I would present to Momma afterwards. Opal was very talented at baking, and I memorized her instructions. Daddy had been to the mainland and had the boat loaded up with the piano. I couldn’t imagine Daddy rowing the piano out to the island, but sure enough, he did, and with the help of the Daltons, brought it to shore and up to the house. They put the piano in our parlor, Momma unaware. She had been preparing the chicken all day.

  After supper, I presented Momma with the cake. Everyone was very impressed, although the cake was slightly lopsided. Ayden was the first to dig in, and he gobbled down his giant piece.

  “This is really good,” he mumbled between bites. It was Ayden’s first compliment, though not a very gentlemanly one at all. Heath praised me for my efforts and complimented me on learning how to bake so well under his mother’s guidance.

  Momma was thrilled. Daddy couldn’t wait to give her the big surprise. As soon as she took her last bite of cake, he swooped her up and guided her back to our house. He even tied a handkerchief over her eyes then led her inside. When Daddy removed it, Momma’s eyes flew open and she covered her mouth to muffle her cries of joy. Daddy
stood back and watched her run her delicate fingers over the keys as her eyes filled with tears.

  “Oh, Garrett, how did you manage—”

  He stopped her before she could continue. “Sit down, Amelia, and play a hymn for us.”

  We all encouraged her, and after some persuasion, she agreed.

  “It has been years since I played,” she admitted with some apprehension then she began with “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Momma’s voice must have been created by angels, for angels. It brought a tear to everyone’s eyes. Heath was especially touched and stared at Momma. Her angelic voice sounded all the way up to the heavens.

  “Thank you all for such a wonderful birthday,” Momma cried, sending a shy smile over to where Daddy was smoking his pipe.

  When the evening grew late and Daddy made his way up to the tower, Momma came in to say goodnight. I sat on the bed, and she gently brushed my hair. Momma was unusually quiet and kept gazing out my window, to the light that flashed every few seconds. Daddy was up there, cranking the weights every few hours to keep the Fresnel lens turning.

  “Did you really have a good birthday, Momma?” I asked when she was just about done.

  “I did, Lillian. Thank you so much for the delicious cake. You did a fine job,” she said, then kissed my cheek with her soft, warm lips. She smelled especially good that evening. I recognized her perfume. She wore it only on very special occasions.

  “You sleep tight, my darling,” she sang, then blew me a kiss from the doorway. I knew where she was going. Daddy would be pleased to have her company. Daddy hated when Momma was away from him, even if it was only for a few hours. I wondered if all husbands felt that way about their wives. Would my husband one day feel that way about me? I wondered.

  The first Sunday after Momma’s Bible lesson, after Daddy read two gospels, she sat at the piano and for hours played her favorite hymns. The Daltons had made their way to the mainland to attend services, but I couldn’t imagine being more inspired or closer to God than at our very own house. Momma never looked more beautiful than when she was at the piano, and Daddy’s eyes never left her, not even for a minute.