Lighthouse
Out on the banks of Europe lied an ancient lighthouse made of stone with a pointed, wooden roof. In its day, it was beautiful, and all the sailors would smile at its light. It guided many a fisherman and tradesman home and to safety, but as time grew on, and technology rose, it grew less and less needed. Of course, the keeper of the lighthouse grew furious with this realization, but as he aged, he did not let up. Every night, he climbed the 20 flights of stairs and lit the old beauty. His children grew and tried to persuade their father that this routine of his was no longer needed, and with his aging, frail body, no longer healthy. He refused and as his children had children of their own, he retold many stories of the lighthouse. His grandson, Lucas, always seemed interested in them. He always stayed the longest to hear his grandfather finish the old tales, and he began joining his grandfather when he would light the tower. This warmed his heart, for he believed maybe there would be someone to continue his tradition when he passed, but as fate would have it, even Lucas too began to age and wonder why his grandfather continued on with such unneeded events.
When Lucas turned 12, his grandfather fell very ill, they begged him to go the hospital, but he refused to go a single night without lighting the tower. Lucas accompanied him and as his grandfather struggled to climb the steps, Lucas asked,
"Grandpa, why do you harm yourself? Why do you insist on lighting this tower that no one looks at?"
His grandpa was silent, he pulled himself up straight and breathed in deeply,
"This lighthouse is not only for sailors or people treading the water." Lucas tilted his head, uncertain of what he meant. "This tower is a beam of light to all those who are seeking a form of safe haven, a form of hope. If this tower was to not be lit at night, then those who need it most, would never find their way." With that, the grandpa lit up the tower and collapsed. Lucas ran to his aid, then ran for help.
He was pronounced dead on scene, the lighthouse keeper was no more. The town was sorrowful, only because the story of his loyalty to a dying tower was touching, but no one mourned the loss of the annoying light that would beam over their heads every night. The day after his death, Lucas and his parents removed the last of his grandfather's belongings from the tower. His parents spoke to one another about the arrangements for his cremation, how all that they were doing was 'simply for the best.' Lucas sighed as he laid eyes on the unlit light. He shut the door to the room slowly and walked back down the stairs with a box of this and that.
That night, Lucas laid his bed and looked out the window, he could see the lighthouse from his home. They lived almost right below it. He remembered his youth and how he would love when the bright yellow beam would turn on, he'd watch in awe as it shined brightly on everything it touched. He thought about his grandpa's dying words...what did they mean...suddenly, the lighthouse light turned on. Lucas jumped in his bed and mumbled under his breath. He quickly slipped on some shoes, grabbed a jacket, and ran up to the lighthouse. Was it a robber? Was it an admiring fan? Lucas was uncertain, but he had to get to the bottom of it, his grandfather hadn't even been cremated and someone dared to light the house without telling his family? He zoomed up the 20 flights and slammed open the door, he found no one. Just the light doing its job. He walked slowly around the room, the wooden floor creaked and cracked with every step he took. He heard something knock over and looked to his right, a soda can fell next to the built-in wooden bed. He squinted his eyes then looked under the bed – nothing. He stood up and scratched his head. He saw some motion next to the closet. Maybe it was a rat? But a rat couldn't have possibly turned on the light...could it? He walked over to the closet and opened the door to find a small girl crouched in the corner. She gasped and tried crawling backwards away from him but there was nowhere else to go. Lucas looked around to make sure this wasn't a joke then stared at her, she was small, couldn't be passed the age of 6, and obviously frightened. Lucas held up his hands,
YOU ARE READING
The Lighthouse
Short StoryShort Story. After his grandfathers passing, 12 year old Lucas reminisces on his grandfathers old job of maintaining the lighthouse and discovers a unique secret.