The Girl in the Lighthouse (Arrington)

by Roxane Tepfer Sanford

  Each day after lessons, Ayden would go off and help Edward with duties around the island, while Heath walked away without word, went back to his house, and hid away in his room. No one seemed to care; no one was aware that he continued to suffer, and it disturbed me greatly. Daddy would not have allowed me to stay so disheartened. He would have come and talked to me and made me see that it was all going to get better, and that I should no longer pity myself. On one sunny, brisk, fall day, I went to Heath.

  He was up in the observation tower, gazing out at the picturesque, infinite ocean. It had been so long since we talked; it felt awkward to approach him. At first, he didn’t realize I was there he was so deep in thought. Then as I came to stand beside him, he turned and looked at me. His eyes were full of tears; he wore his broken heart on his sleeve.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, and he wiped the tears with the back of his hand.

  “Why not? I’m your friend, Heath.”

  “I don’t have any friends,” he said, then looked away.

  I reached for his hand, but he snatched it away. I gulped hard, afraid he would yell at me, and then I reached for it again. This time, to my surprise, Heath didn’t object to my touch. We stood hand-in-hand, without word. My presence was helping him; it allowed him to finally let his guard down. Through his hand, I felt the sadness he had bottled up for all these weeks. I felt his anguish. Then, I did as Daddy would, and told him to stop crying.

  “I can’t, Lillian; I can’t stop crying.”

  As each of his tears slowly fell, they glistened in the sun.

  “Don’t you hate me? Don’t you hate me the way the others do?” he cried. I didn’t hate him; in fact, through his suffering, I loved him even more.

  “I could never hate you, Heath Dalton.”

  “Miss Weatherbee—” he said softly, then turned and looked into my eyes.

  I knew he was about to reveal what happened; he was going to tell me about the kiss. I wasn’t sure I was ready, and my stomach turned into a giant knot. But I was there to help, as any good friend would be.

  “She was out back, fetching some water from the well. I went to help her pull the bucket up, and she lost her balance and fell back into me. We landed on the ground,” Heath said, then took a long breath. I saw how difficult it was for him, how embarrassing it was. “Ayden saw me on top of her, but it was all due to the fall. I didn’t kiss her, Lillian. I would never do such a thing,” he sobbed.

  I moved in and allowed him to lean on my shoulder. Heath was much older than I and stood a foot taller. He always had the right words to say; the poise and dignity he carried with such self-assurance seemed years beyond his age. However, on that day, I was the one with the sensibility to see him through his angst. Heath had fallen victim to wrong conclusions. Heath had lost his parents’ respect and been hurt beyond words by Ayden’s acrimonious disloyalty to the sanctity of their brotherhood. I didn’t understand why Heath would take the blame for something he didn’t do.

  Heath knew what I was thinking. “They should never have believed such a thing. Don’t they know me better? I should have told them right away what happened; I realize that now, but I didn’t ever think—” He stopped and stood back, then lowered his head. Of course, Heath didn’t think Ayden would actually do it. Neither Heath nor I would have ever believed Ayden would sacrifice his own brother for his own pleasure. I knew Ayden was envious of Heath, but never believed he only possessed pure jealousy. We both knew now, though the truth came too late.

  “You have to go tell them; you have to let them know you didn’t do what you were accused of, Heath,” I insisted.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he replied, with such sorrow in his voice it made my heart sting. I knew then that Heath wasn’t about to try undoing what had already been done.

  I would not stand by and allow Ayden to destroy Heath, if it weren’t already too late. I left Heath alone in the tower to seek justice. At first, I was going to Ayden to lash out at him; I was going to demand he confess his terrible untruth and have him apologize to Heath. But as I made my way down the long flight of iron stairs, I realized it probably would do no good. So I decided to go to Daddy. He was fair. Daddy would never want anyone to be unjustly convicted. Daddy would make things right again.

  He was sitting in the rocker by the fire, smoking a pipe and reading the newspaper when I came in. I had passed Momma in the vegetable garden so I knew I would be alone with Daddy.

  “Can I talk to you, Daddy?” I asked. He put the paper down on his lap and motioned for me to come over. I knelt down, my eyes so full of sadness they had already begun to well up with tears.

  “What is wrong, my darling?” he asked, stroking the top of my head. My words came out like water from behind a broken dam. With a heavy voice, I told Daddy about Ayden’s lie and Heath’s broken spirit. I gave him the details, the account of what really happened.

  “Are you certain, Lillian?” Daddy asked, sitting up with an expression of momentous concern.

  “I am, Daddy.”

  In a moment, Daddy was off to see Edward. I waited in my room, on pins and needles. Whatever would happen would be monumental. Ayden’s lie had caused Miss Weatherbee to lose her job and be disgraced by the community, created an arduous responsibility for the school board that trusted the eyewitness account, made his parents distrust their much-loved son, and worst of all, had taken innocence away from the brother he without doubt should have loved, admired, and remained steadfastly loyal to.

  Edward, when forced to, often showed a side of himself that his sons feared. His gentle, good-natured character, just like Daddy, if pushed to the limit, would be taken over by fury and rage. As much as I wanted Heath to have his parents’ respect and approval returned, as much as what Ayden had done appalled me, I couldn’t bear to listen to Ayden’s punishment. His wailing from the whipping could be heard all the way up to my room. I covered my ears with my pillow and curled up on my bed. Then Momma bolted in.

  “What’s happened?” she cried, her eyes full of terror.

  “Ayden wasn’t telling the truth. Heath never kissed the teacher,” I explained over all the commotion outside.

  Momma rushed to my side and held me close. She was trembling and frightened even more than I. As she rocked me, she mumbled over and over, “Please, God, not again; please, make it stop.”

  Then, out of nowhere, Daddy appeared and hurried to Momma, pulling her into his embrace. She wasn’t aware that he was comforting her; she kept sobbing and her eyes glazed over with intense fear. I would have thought Daddy would rush to my side, but instead he hushed Momma like she was the child. And when the wailing from outside finally stopped, Momma collapsed in Daddy’s arms, then he swept her up and carried her off.

  I sat in disbelief, confused and troubled. I didn’t know how to make sense of what was happening around me. Everything felt unstable. Would anything ever be as it was? Would Ayden ask for Heath’s forgiveness, and would Heath accept? Could their relationship ever be the same? Would Opal and Edward let this pass? And would Momma be able to recover from the ordeal?

  Some of my answers came right away. Outside, I kept to the shadows of the late afternoon to observe what was all around. I was relieved to see Edward embrace Heath. Heath’s smile lit up my heavy heart. Daddy was on his way up to the tower; he had left Momma to rest. I saw no sign of Ayden or Opal until I crept by the windows of their house. I covered my mouth with my hand so they couldn’t hear me as I tried to catch my breath. Opal was tenderly wiping streaks of blood from Ayden’s back. He winced with every touch of the cloth. I had never witnessed the aftermath of a whipping; I could never have imagined that a leather belt strap could cause such deep, bloody welts. As I peered through the window I saw something in Ayden’s eyes that told me all could be forgiven. In his eyes were shame and remorse. Ayden had learned a valuable lesson, and with good judgment, would stay far from his dark side.

  Grateful. I was ever so grateful when Heath and Ayden
slowly began to welcome back their brotherhood and embrace forgiveness. Heath returned to the wise, caring friend he once was, and Ayden, instead of holding animosity for Heath, looked up to him and allowed his heart to be opened. Ayden began to admire the attributes that made Heath so special, and I saw Ayden slowly wanting to become more like his older brother.

  Ayden made things right, and with great reluctance, Miss Weatherbee returned to the school. Ayden had to address the school board, hat in hand, and admit to his fabrications, confessing that he had set his brother and Miss Weatherbee up so that Heath would be humiliated and punished, and the teacher branded with a scarlet letter and sent away so there would no longer be a teacher for the school. Then he would not have to worry about school anymore.

  Besides the physical punishment Ayden had to endure, he was also assigned hours and hours of extra school work, and for the entire winter, he was to feed the pot belly schoolhouse stove with wood throughout the day, even in the wee hours of dawn. Ayden was told to row himself to school, and Heath would follow later, but Heath wouldn’t have it. He didn’t want his brother alone on the sea. So he woke at four in the morning with Ayden and rowed the five miles all the way to the mainland.

  Momma was the only one who didn’t rebound from the unpleasant incident. Since the day Ayden was harshly whipped, she had remained in bed, though instead of always sleeping, she often quietly cried. Most often, when she was ill, she didn’t cry, only slept, like the beautiful girl in Sleeping Beauty. Even Daddy, who could eventually wake her from her strange need to sleep, could not get her out of bed. Every morning, after his long hours in the lighthouse, he came to Momma, climbed into bed, and held her for hours. She clung to him each time as if it were going to be the last, like a little girl in his loving embrace. Daddy did all he could to get her out of her dreadful frame of mind; he tried everything to get her to stop crying.

  Opal, exhausted herself from the baby that was beginning to take over her body, came by every day to try and get Momma to eat. Momma nibbled on food sometimes. This went on for weeks and weeks.

  As the end of fall approached, Momma didn’t change. Though it was her favorite time of year, the time to bake apple pies by the dozens, she remained locked away in her room. For days, I went without seeing her. Daddy told me to stay away. I did the best I could to manage around the house and teach myself. I spent hours reading, and when Heath noticed how my education was being neglected, went to Daddy.

  Heath intercepted Daddy on his way to the oil house. I stayed back and let Heath speak to Daddy alone on my behalf. I watched their facial expressions and hand gestures closely. Daddy was giving Heath his undivided attention. Heath was now only a half-inch shorter than him, and they stood eye-to-eye talking. Once Daddy turned and looked towards our house, probably after Heath mentioned how ill Momma was and that there was no way she could tutor me any longer. I wanted Heath to convince Daddy to allow me to attend school with them, to take the boat ride over to the mainland each morning.

  Just the thought of getting a public education excited me. However, I knew how Daddy felt about it, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Momma and Daddy had always been so adamant that Momma would give me all of my schooling. Would he realize that Momma could no longer do it?

  They talked for a long time, going back and forth on their own points. Heath was persistent; he wasn’t ready go give up, but I knew how strong-willed Daddy was. I wasn’t sure what the outcome was until Daddy walked off. Heath turned around with an enormous grin on his face. I was going to go to a real school!

  “Thank you, thank you, Heath,” I said, with much joy. “Thank you for convincing Daddy.”

  “It wasn’t easy, but he knew it was the right thing to do.”

  “Did he say I can go tomorrow?”

  “First thing. You have to be up with Ayden and me,” he warned.

  I wasn’t afraid to get up that early. I wasn’t sure I would even be able to get to sleep knowing I was finally going to school. Inside, I contained my happiness. I knew Daddy wasn’t happy about it and had agreed only because it was absolutely necessary.

  Daddy and I boarded one of the two boats and rowed to the mainland one hour after Heath and Ayden. Daddy had to get me registered with Miss Weatherbee. I had picked out my prettiest ribbon to tie my hair back with and wore my seashell necklace and bracelet. Momma wasn’t awake to see me go. I didn’t think Daddy told her. Daddy had a somber expression on his face while he rowed and kept his eyes on the lighthouse. Dawn had just approached as we stepped foot in the village. Along with a few scattered children, we made our way up to the small, white, clapboard-sided school house.

  The bell rang the signal that indicated school was about to start. My stomach began to twist up with nervousness and anticipation. I was sure, because I had Heath and Ayden there, all would go well. I wanted the other children to like me; I hoped I could make even more friends.

  Daddy took hold of my hand, and without word, we passed the young boy who was ringing the bell. Inside, we walked up the center row and approached Miss Weatherbee’s desk. Ayden sat alone to the left, while Heath was in the last row, beside a boy who looked to be about the same age. Heath gave me a wink, and I smiled in return.

  “Miss Weatherbee, this is my daughter, Lillian Arrington,” Daddy announced as we stopped before her small, wooden desk. Miss Weatherbee was only fifteen, but she looked much older—almost as old as Momma. Her hair was honey gold and tied back in a tight bun. She was slim, her features refined. She asked Daddy for the full spelling of my name and wrote it down in a ledger book. Then she looked up at me. Her eyes were soft gray, and her lips a pale rose color.

  “Welcome to your first day of school, Miss Arrington. Please take a seat on the opposite row, beside Mr. Ayden Dalton.”

  I could feel all the students’ eyes on me as I immediately did as she asked and sat on the large wooden bench next to a girl I assumed was near my age. Daddy thanked her, threw me a quick nod, and went on his way. Daddy obviously felt awkward bringing me to school. It went against what he and Momma had always agreed to, and it troubled him.

  After Daddy left, I began to relax a little. There were ten students—six boys and four girls. The youngest students sat in the front row, in front of Miss Weatherbee’s desk. There was a large blackboard behind her and one off to the side. Already there were assignments for the different grades listed on the board, and Miss Weatherbee instructed the class to begin. I wasn’t sure which grade I was in, so I called out to her. She was writing when I interrupted. All the kids giggled under their breath, except for Ayden and Heath.

  “Miss Arrington, if you need something or have a question, please raise your hand and wait until I call on you.” Her voice was surprisingly stern. Miss Weatherbee kept her gaze on me, waiting for me to raise my hand. Nervously, I put my arm up.

  “Now, what is it?”

  “What grade am I in, Miss Weatherbee?” I asked with a slightly jittery voice.

  Again, the children giggled.

  “Silence,” she commanded, smacking her ruler on the text book on her desk. I would never have guessed such a sweet-looking lady could have such an imposing tone.

  The room immediately grew silent.

  “Miss Arrington, your father stated you were ten years of age; that would put you in the fourth grade.”

  I glanced at Ayden for comfort, but he was staring straight ahead, and I could only see Heath out of the corner of my eye. For a moment, I began to panic; I didn’t like being laughed at. I was disturbed by the way Miss Weatherbee shouted at the class. The knot in my stomach grew larger and began to make me queasy. The room grew hot, and suddenly I couldn’t catch my breath. Then, without warning, I violently heaved my breakfast up all over the floor in front of me. The girl beside me jumped away as I heaved one more time, then I began to cry. Miss Weatherbee shot up and called for someone to get the bucket and pail. The children were repulsed and began to tease me. I was so humiliated that I ran out crying. I ran out of
the school and down a long, grassy knoll until I came to the tree-lined road. There I stopped and buried my face against a thick maple tree and sobbed uncontrollable. My dress was soiled and had a nasty smell. The first chance I had to go to school, and I had to ruin it for myself. I didn’t think I would be so nervous. I could have never anticipated throwing up. Heath rushed out to me with a cloth soaked with well water.

  “You can use this to clean up,” he said. I didn’t look at him.

  “Lillian, it’s okay. We understand. It happens,” he said in a soft, caring voice.

  “I can’t go back in there; I just can’t,” I moaned.

  Heath didn’t say anything. Instead, he began to wipe my dress for me.

  “I can do that,” I said, snatching the cloth away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I was the one who was sorry. I should have never let him talk Daddy into allowing me to attend school.

  “Just go back to school. Tell Miss Weatherbee that I will not be returning. I will wait for you boys by the harbor,” I said, lifting my head and wiping the tears from my flushed face.

  Heath’s eyes grew dark and his face serious. “You’re going to wipe your dress off, Lillian Arrington, then get back to class. You’re not going to miss your chance at an education just because you made a mess. You are better than that.”

  “No, Heath; I’m not,” I said, choking back my tears.

  “Do you think I would be best friends with a quitter? You didn’t quit on me, Lillian, and I certainly won’t quit on you.” Heath took the towel and wiped off my dress. I stood quietly while he cleaned me as best he could. Then he smiled, and his eyes brightened. “That’s better. Now come.” He took hold of my hand and led me back to school.