Lighthouse Dilemma

Lighthouse Dilemma

“Ship’s coming!” a voice rang in the distance.

            As true as the words were, no response came, and no lights came on.

            The lights hadn’t been on for three days now, and Bay Island appeared to be sleeping. Thankfully ships hadn’t come for three days, but one did today.

            It was usually daytime when they appeared, but tonight had no natural light, or any kind of light. It was like staring at an endless black chalkboard that had never been drawn on.

The lighthouse keeper went by the name of Mr. Meash, but the people who were around him felt like he had no identity. He seemed like nothing to others, and others seemed like nothing to him. He never usually spoke. He had a friend named Warren who usually was a guard by the bottom of the lighthouse on Bay Island.

There was one weird day where Mr. Meash and Warren were talking at a boating dock before they lived in the lighthouse; Mr. Meash had anything but kind words to say to Warren.

“Warren, don’t come into the lighthouse even if there is a ship coming. You are to be a guard and a lookout at the bottom and report back to the other guard around % in the morning before dawn, and you may take a boat back to the boating dock at ten to eat or sleep.”

“Why, I feel extra comfortable being in the lighthouse, and you also need help with the ships coming to and fro.” Warren clearly looked confused at this new set of events.

“Don’t question me, I have my reasons and I can see the ships coming just fine from the top.” Mr. Meash turned on his heel with a matter of fact attitude.

“Whatever, you’re the boss,” Warren muttered and walked back to the boathouse.

But right now, Warren was wishing badly that he could get into the house and turn the lights on.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and tried again. “Mr. Meash, ship’s coming!”

The only response was his words echoing back to him eerily in the dark and the swish of water from the ship’s movement. He peered thought the dark as best as he could, but could see nothing, He used his ears; the ship was getting closer and closer. The waves of the water seemed to make music as if everything was fine. It was all starting to get to his nerves, and he made a decision fast. ‘The boss will yell, but its not my fault!’ he thought and ran towards the door to the lighthouse, only to find it locked. But as he moved his hand around the door, he found a key stuck in it. Opening it as fast as he could, he made his way past the two rooms below and ran up the flight of stairs. His breath was starting to fall short, then he tripped, He had landed on his side, and as he got up he felt something hard and wet. What was this, anyway? He bent down and felt the lean and shapely form of a body.

“Mr. Meash!” he cried out suddenly, and then he remembered. The ship! He ran faster than ever up the stairs until he came to the light tower, and turned them on. He put his hands to his face with a sight of relief, and felt that they were wet. Why were they wet? Hands up to the light, and froze. Every inch of them was covered with blood, and without thinking he wiped them on his clothes in vain. This was bad news; he must go and get cleaned up before anyone came along and accused him of murder. He looked out of the tower windows for the last time, and froze again, eyes wide open. There stood the ship, its majesty slanted downwards into the water, and a ton of cargo strewn about the shore. He had turned the lights on too late!