The Lighthouse Keeper....

The Lighthouse Keeper....

There was a lighthouse keeper when I was young, but not anymore. He guided the ships across the waters when the storms’ wrath sought to bury the sailors under the ruthless waves. He would shine a light through the ribbons of drifting mist flurrying across the ground, in long, pale tendrils.

I remember the lighthouse keeper, lugging crates across the dock. His big weary eyes, always glinting in the slivers of light that broke through the quilt of clouds like there were always fresh tears jammed against his eyes. Yet he never let them run free. I recall the way he always looked out to the sea longingly like he was waiting for a special boat to return, with a special person on it, but it never did, and I think he knew it never would.

He was an anomaly, that was why I wanted to know him the most. Mama always said that: ‘those who don’t tell their stories often have the best ones.’ It had become a quest of mine to learn this man’s stories.

Mama and papa were never home, and I’d been sick for the past year, only just then I’d begun to regain my strength, but the doctor refused to let me go back to school. So, the dock had become my refuge, to save me from the greedy grips of boredom.

I crinkled my nose at the poignant scent of gutted fish, mingling with the salted air. The waves lapped restlessly against the splintering spruce beams of the dock. I’d come every day to talk with the lighthouse keeper, but his dismissiveness made my skin prick with frustration. He soon grew a tolerance to my friendly interrogation, but for some reason, despite being a shrill annoyance in his life, he never urged me to leave.

One strange day the lighthouse keeper’s movements became sluggish and clumsy. I’d chosen then to ask playfully, ‘why don’t you smile?’ out of childish curiosity after he gave another half-hearted chuckle at one of my meek jokes. I recall so vividly that moment when he halted just a couple of paces in front of me. ‘Nothing to smile about’ he put simply, voice slightly coarser, more pained than usual, but I took no notice at the time.

‘Of course, there’s something to smile about’ I persisted, with my naïve reasoning. He heaved a sigh. ‘Look kid, when things take a turn for the worst it becomes pretty difficult to smile all the time,’ he explained, yet my mind kept churning with the notion that there was more he’d like to confess but he kept biting his tongue.

‘Papa tells me that life is like the sea, and we are all on little boats trying to navigate it’

‘Ain’t your papa wise’ the lighthouse keeper acknowledged.

‘He also says that I ride in the safety of his and mama’s boat.’

‘Is that so.’

‘What about your ship?’ I prodded.

The sailor gritted his teeth and the furrows along his forehead deepened. ‘Nothing much to it really, I just sail alone go day by day, don’t wonder too much where the sea will take me.’

‘Yeah, the sea of life’s pretty unpredictable the waves tend to fling us in any direction they please, Papa says the waves can be ruthless’ I continue.

‘Ruthless and unforgiving, the sea takes what it wants and doesn’t give it back’

‘Really, what has the sea taken from you?’ I asked cautiously.

‘Yeah, took her from me without a second thought’ he growled, voice raised with a passion I’d never seen in him before.

My thoughts thrummed against my skull; the lighthouse keeper was certainly a puzzle, but now all the pieces just seemed to click. I didn’t skip home that day like would usually instead I walked in silent contemplation. Mama and Papa came home at dinner time and hugged me like always, but it wasn’t warm and comforting this time, instead, I felt a cold dread stirring within me.

That night was dark, suddenly everything felt so much larger than my little family and our little house in a way it never had before. Though the next day, I awoke with the same dreadful anticipation haunting me like a ghost. I couldn’t find the lighthouse keeper on the dock or in the lighthouse. After my search had proven fruitless, I wandered up to a sailor and stretched my arm to tap him on the shoulder. He craned his head around in confusion then saw me standing below him patiently. ‘What can I do for you?’ he asked.

‘Do you know where the lighthouse keeper is?’

He clenched his jaw ‘I’m afraid the lighthouse keeper had a heart attack early this morning, he’s passed on.’

I ran home in a flurry of despair that day. By the time mama and papa came home, I’d cleaned the tear streaks from my face. I was quiet at dinner, not only because of the sickly sorrow that clung to my heart for months after, but because there was something new arising, I knew when the sailor told me what had happened, I’d stepped over a point of no return in my own life. I no longer rode in the safety of my parents’ boats as we traversed the sea of life, but instead, I was on my own boat, with barely a dim notion of how to take it where I wanted to go, but the ocean of life was now stretched in front of me and I’d have to find my own way.

With the years gone by, my ship would have to sail through many storms, but I always found my way. Now I tell my family about the sea of life and our little ships, I also tell them a story and it starts with: ‘There was a lighthouse keeper when I was young, but not anymore.’