Haven’s Peak Anthologies: The Lighthouse Keeper

The black spot. A way to communicate a death sentence sent by pirates. Whomever receives the black spot is doomed to be hunted down until their end. Or at least that’s what Seamus Malloy believed from reading in his latest book Treasure Island. Seamus adored reading but it was the only past time he had being the only human inhabitant of Haven’s Peak and the lighthouse. Seamus lived in the lighthouse alone with the only company being his carrier pigeons, the mail they bring and his books that he gets once every three months when a ship turns up for resupply. He wasn’t much of a people person and had jumped at the first opportunity to live in and run the newly built Lighthouse on Haven’s Peak. Even the rumours of death and curses couldn’t stop him from his isolation and from slowly building his dream library. He knew that by working as the lighthouse keeper he’d get silence and free food and living quarters. He also knew that his job was to be easy. This was the first lighthouse built to test whether you needed to go to the top of the building to light it, and Seamus was more than happy that it actually worked. He could stay in his cosy library/bedroom and all he had to do was turn a switch in the room at the right time each night, and he was always punctual. But that was the job and Seamus Malloy was Haven’s Peaks’ first lighthouse keeper.

Seamus had slept in; the storm from the night before had lasted long into the night but he had kept reading until it calmed and he knew he could sleep. When he awoke, he heard the cooing of a carrier pigeon outside his window. He’d moved the postal perch closer to the window so he didn’t have to move too far from his comfy chair but still had to go out to feed the birds once a day. He stretched his arms wide and put on his dressing gown as he shuffled to the window. As he opened it, the pigeon flew in and landed on a secondary post he had in the room. He saw a small letter attached to the leg but he wasn’t expecting any mail, so it must be a last minute thing or so he thought. He untied the small note and unravelled it. He stared at it in disbelief. What he saw was a blurry black spot in the centre of the parchment. His eyes widen and as the pigeon flew back out the window, he rushed to one of his many bookshelves. He grabbed the Treasure Island novel he had read and flicked through it’s worn and well read pages until he saw the name Billy Bones. He read and re-read, staring back to the parchment in his hand after each sentence. His mind raced. It couldn’t be possible, it simply couldn’t be. The black spot. Pirates hadn’t been a thing for a good while, nor was the black spot a real thing, was it? Haven’s Peak wasn’t even a place where pirates would come to. No, it must be a joke, some prank by the merchants in Cork. He was on a small island that nobody cared about except for the sharp rocks that surrounded it. It had to be a prank. He placed the parchment on his kitchen table and shook it off.

He knew just what he needed to get his mind off of things. A fresh cup of tea, some toast and a good book. He brewed the kettle on the stove and went to his bookshelves when he realised he still had Treasure Island in his hands. It was his favourite of his new books and no matter how many times he had read it he could always enjoy it again and he could laugh about the joke he had been sent. He heard the whistle of the kettle and walked back to his kitchen making himself a drink and waited for the toast to finish. He usually ate in the kitchen but decided to go and sit in his comfy library chair next to the fire as the day was still brisk. Once his food was done he settled in for a read.

Seamus always enjoyed reading, and would savour the pages and the words. He read each part slowly and let his imagination run wild. He always imagined himself in their world as an observer. He slowly ate his toast and read each passage. As he got back to the Black spot part he froze. The parchment came back to his mind and he couldn’t get it out. He decided to brush it off and go back to an earlier part and try to continue but once again as he got to the same part he froze. He grumbled. Why couldn’t he think about anything else? He didn’t want to never be able to read his favourite novel again. He huffed and mumbled in frustration. He placed his book pages down and walked back to the kitchen where he left the parchment. He picked it up. He stared at it intently, cursing whichever merchant sent it to him. It was probably O’Shaughnessy. The old coot had eyed up the light house job, the same as him but Seamus’ age had been the deciding factor. Now the old man worked in a shop that helped supply him and regularly sent him messages. It had to be him. He sighed and as he looked up at the window he realised it had started to become dusk. He quickly returned to the library where he had asked the switch for the light be installed and turned it on. How had he lost track of time so easily. Now his job had been done, he returned to the kitchen to make himself his evening meal. This time he sat at the table and tried to ignored the parchment glaring at his from near the sink. Why couldn’t he throw it away? After his meal he would do just that. He planned to throw it in the bin and put whatever leftovers he had on top of it. He had made himself a small bowl of pasta and began lapping it up. As he finished he swept the parchment towards the bin and poured the small bits of pasta on top.

He felt himself yawn as he returned to his chair and grabbed a blanket to enjoy his book. However, when he looked at his book it was closed. He could have sworn that he had held it open on the black spot passage. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he had placed it weirdly. He shook off his concerns and decided to start again. He drifted back into the world and as he drifted into the story he felt himself go to sleep.

He dreamt that he was in Treasure Island. He was sat in the Benbow Inn at a table waiting to be served. When a black dog comes running to him and leaves a familiar parchment in his lap. He looks down at it and jumps in with a yelp. He stared at the dog as it ran out the door. He screamed.

Suddenly, Seamus found himself back in his chair with the blanket slung across him and the book on the floor. It was still the middle of the night and he kept reminding himself it was only a dream as he walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. He splashed some on his face and stared out the window. He noticed the light streaming across fog that had blown in. As he watched the light billow he noticed a dark shape deep in the fog. He squinted hard and he couldn’t believe his eyes. It was a ship, but not a modern one that he was used to seeing. It was an old wooden boat, slowly heading towards the island. It reminded Seamus of the ships from his book. He mind went into a frenzy as he dug into the rubbish. It couldn’t be, could it? It was a pirate ship and the black dot was real. Pirates were sailing to Haven’s Peak and he was their target. He began to panic as his breathing became fast and heavy. He grabbed the small parchment and just stared at it.

His mind ticked away and a light flicked on in his brain. He had an idea. It was an awful idea but it could save his life. He ran to library and his hand hoovered over the switch for the light. If he turned it off, they could crash into the rocks. It would be easy and would probably work in the fog. They wouldn’t survive. His hand floated above it and he hesitated as the thought of killing all of those on the ship would way on his soul. He knew it would. But as he thought about that, he noticed the small black dot on the parchment and told himself it was either them or him. He gulped and closed his eyes as he grabbed the switch. He turned it and he heard the light dying and fading away.

Jack O’Shaughnessy had made the short voyage from Cork to Haven’s Peak during the light of day. His father, Curtis, had always wanted to move to Haven’s Peak and even opted from the first lighthouse keepers job. He remembered Curtis telling him that there would be a settlement out there in a few years and that being the lighthouse keeper meant they could get the best land for their house. Honestly, Jack was happy his father didn’t get the job. A couple of months after the posting, Curtis became gravely ill and Jack felt lucky to have spent what little time he had left with his father. As he watched the island approach in the distance and saw the jagged rocks that surround it, Jack remembered Curtis’ dying wishes. Jack had promised to move to Haven’s Peak when the settlers had immigrated there. He had also promised to find out what happened to his fathers’ friend, Seamus Malloy. They had spent a few months corresponding in small letters by pigeon carrier. That was until the night he went missing and the night the first settlers set off. Jack had watched his father sent a small letter by Pigeon. It explained that settlers were coming and due to delays they would only get there the next night. It was short and simple. He let the pigeon fly in the rain and it had obviously been caught in the storm of the night. The next night, the ship had crashed into the rocks and only a handful of people survived. After a few days of silence, an investigation ship was sent to find out what happened. Jack had read the reports in the newspaper. The ship had crashed in the night due to a lighthouse malfunction causing a lot of deaths. It was believed the switch had broken as it was being turned. However, there was one mystery left unsolved. Seamus had gone missing on the same night. He had left the lighthouse on the cold night, wearing only slippers and a dressing gown, evident from what was left in his home. The reporters say there was a note left in the log book. It said “I have survived death.” After delving deeper and asking the right questions Jack had found out that next to the log book was the small note he had seen his father writing. He was told that the storm had damaged it, smudging the ink. It was somewhat legible but it also looked like a black spot in the middle of the paper. Jack had managed to get hold of the note and as the island came ever closer he stared at it. On the small parchment, Jack could only make out the black spot, a mark of death.