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Chapter 6

Just as quickly as it had appeared the light was once again gone. 

“Susanna?  Are you there?” Katie called out.

“Yes, I’m here.  I wish you could be here to see this, it’s beautiful,” Susanna said, still smiling.

“I’ll see the pictures,” Katie laughed her off, “You better be careful out there.”

“I will.  I’m going inside to get settled
. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

While she was there,
Susanna checked on the sheep one last time, noticing that several had bedded down in the hay she had spread about on the barn floor.  She felt a certain sense of accomplishment that she had at least done one thing right on her first day of work.  Securing the fence and gate and checking the lock, Susanna made her way back to the cottage in the darkness that had enveloped the island.  Once inside, she secured the latch at the door and scrolled through her iPhone to the music.

“What am I in the mood for?” she mumbled
to herself, “How about some Ray Lamontagne …”

She turned up the volume and set her phone on the kitchen counter as the opening guitar
chords of
Trouble
began to play throughout the small kitchen.  She washed the few dishes she had used and then retreated to the antiquated bathroom to wash her face and change into her yoga pants and t-shirt. She dug around until she found some thick socks that she hoped would help her make it through the night.  The cottage was already substantially colder than it was an hour ago, and Susanna looked towards the fireplace with gritty determination.  She had never been one for camping outdoors so the thought of trying to start a fire intimidated her to say the least. 

“How hard can it be?” she
shrugged, “Here goes soft adventure.”  She knelt before the fireplace and picked up two sturdy pieces of firewood.  She tossed the big pieces in and reached for the smaller pieces she assumed was the kindling.  There was an old box of long matches nearby and she opened them to find only a handful remaining.

She grimaced, “I better be
really
good at this.”  She took one out and struck it along the side of the box where it immediately broke in her hand.

“Damn
it,” she cursed, sitting back on her heels, “One more,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.  She reached for another match and ran it along the box.  Success!  A bright orange flame danced in her fingers as she guided it slowly towards the smaller pieces of wood.  Just as she was reaching in the flame went out.

“Ugh!” she
grunted, throwing the useless match in the fireplace.  She sat staring dismally at the flameless wood for a few minutes before remembering what Bill had told her about the space heater in the storage room. She opened the creaking door and reached for the hanging cord to turn on the overhead light. 

“This place could use a cleaning,” she said as she looked around at the junk piled in the room.  She made a mental note of the broom, a shovel and a few other items that could come in handy while searching the shelf for the elusive heater that would
help keep her alive tonight since her ability to start a fire was obviously lacking.  She found some old books and dusty glass lanterns, as well as some candles and some broken dishes that someone had removed from the kitchen.  She moved some things from shelf to shelf and rearranged some things on the floor before she finally found the small heater covered in dust.  She pulled it out and coughed as a cloud of dust flew into her face.  Securing the door behind her, she stopped by the bathroom to grab a towel to wipe off the dust and clean it up a bit.  As she was coming down the hall towards the living room she could hear the distinct crackling sound of a fire.  Her brows drew together in confusion as she rounded the corner.  She stood, her hands on her hips, and stared at the blazing fire that roared in the fireplace that had already begun to warm up the small room.

“Huh,” Susanna
shrugged as she stared into the flames, “I guess that match was hot enough after all.”  She set the heater down in the corner, unwilling to plug it in because the fire was so very cozy.  After making another cup of tea, Susanna went to flip off the light in the kitchen when the latch on the front door caught her attention. 

“I thought I locked that,” she
whispered, staring at the rusty lock.  Reaching for it, she slid it into place and pulled on the door again.  Returning to the living room, she reached for her laptop and moved to the floor to sit in front of the fire.  After activating her hotspot she checked her mail and the news of the day before retrieving the blankets from the other room and making a pallet on the living room floor.  She wanted to stay close to the fire, at least for the night.  Burying beneath the blankets, she tossed and turned for about twenty minutes before reaching for the phone and dialing her mother’s number.

“Hello dear,”
Veronica answered. 

“Hey mom, can you he
ar me?  I know the signal is not great in the house,” Susanna smiled at the comforting voice of her mother.

“I can hear you fine.  Are you all settled in?”

“Yep. I even did a few chores today. I had a little trouble building a fire but it all seemed to work out … somehow,” Susanna trailed off as she stared into the red flames.

“I hope you enjoy it,” Veronica answered.

“Can you tell me anything else about this place from when I was little?”

“I don’t remember much more than I told you.  You seemed to like it there.  You didn’t want us to leave.  And the man, you kept talking about the man.
” 

“What else about him
? Did I mention anything else?  What was he wearing?  How old was he?  Did he talk to me?”

“No
.  There was nothing else.  Just that you saw him out the window,” Veronica paused, “Susanna, I hope I didn’t scare you.  I shouldn’t have told you all that stuff right before you were going out there to stay by yourself for a week.”

“
Oh, I’m not scared, mom.  I don’t know why, but I’m not,” Susanna looked at her watch, “I’m sorry for calling so late.  I hope I didn’t wake you up.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight honey,” Veronica said before hanging up.

Susanna mulled over her mother’s words as she stared solemnly into the flames of the fire before drifting off to sleep.

The antique wooden clock on the wall ticked rhythmically and echoed loudly in the small living room.  The temperature in the room was dropping, and although the fire still burned, it was definitely fading.  He stepped forward from the shadows silently and reached for another log.  It was the fourth one he had placed there tonight.  He carefully slipped it onto the others and the blaze quickly caught hold.  He looked down, his eyes quietly assessing her sleeping form.  Her blankets had fallen away from one shoulder and although his fingers ached to pull them up around her, he didn’t dare.  It was dangerous enough that he braved a few moments of being this close to her.  He took a few seconds to study her features as she slept.  Her long blond hair fanned across the pillow and cascaded to the floor at his knees.  Her porcelain skin glowed, almost ghostly white, in the flames of the fire and the freckles that dotted her nose seemed to have been placed there with artistic precision.   She was purely angelic as she lay sleeping before him.  His lips were parted, her name on the tip of his tongue.  His longing to whisper it aloud was almost as powerful as the desire to touch her.  With a willpower buried deep within, he forced himself to move away from her and back to the corner of the room that he had inhabited for the last few hours.  He collapsed noiselessly to the floor and relaxed against the cold stone wall, drawing his knees up and resting his elbows on them.  Safely sheathed once again in the darkness, he ran his fingers over the small smooth object he had held onto as she slept.  Turning it over in his large hands, he brushed his fingers across the surface until the bright image appeared before him.  His full lips turned upwards in a smile.  It was her likeness with the bright sun in the background, her wide grin beaming at him.  His fingers brushed across her face as if he could feel her flesh in the smooth surface.  And so he sat, for as long as he was willing to risk being seen, alone in the corner … waiting.
 

Chapter 7

Susanna stretched lazily beneath the blankets and blinked at the bright light shining in through the window.  It took a few seconds for her to remember where she was and why she was on the floor.  She was remarkably warm
, considering the circumstances, and she turned her head towards the fire.  She was astonished to see it still burning bright.  She sat up on her elbows to get a better look. 
How was that possible?  Wouldn’t the wood have burned away during the night?
  She looked at the stack of wood beside the fire. 
How many did she put on the night before?
Was this some kind of special wood that took hours and hours to burn? 
Dismissing it, she tossed back the covers and reached for her phone to check the time.  She had fallen asleep in her contacts so her eyes were dry and sticky and she blinked rapidly in an effort to replenish the moisture. 

“I know it was right here,” she said, feeling around for the phone. 
Unable to see, she stumbled to the bathroom and found her eye drops.  Once she regained her vision she looked beside her but strangely found it missing from the fireplace mantle by her makeshift bed. 

“What the …” she trailed off, looking around the room.  She spotted it on the
end table across the rom.  She shuffled tiredly towards it to check the time.  8:03 a.m.  After running a brush through her hair and quickly brushing her teeth, she threw on her jeans and a blue and beige sweater.  A quick rummage through the fridge proved fruitful and soon she was cooking scrambled eggs and bacon over the old stove.  The absence of a TV was surprisingly refreshing, her music once again flowing through the old cottage. She arranged her breakfast on the delicate china plate she found in the cabinet and took her seat at the table by the window.  The distant sounds of the sheep drew her attention and she peered to her right to look out the window.  Suddenly she found herself focused more on the glass rather than what lay beyond it.  She dropped her fork and it clanged loudly against the china.  She raised her fingers and traced them over the glass.  Her mind immediately went back to the dream she had at the Bailey’s. The vision of her as a little girl on the island, in this very room, staring out this very window and her fingers rubbing the same words she now saw before her. 

“This is the window!” she whispered, moving closer to it.  She
attempted to read the words etched in the glass but they were unlike any that she had ever seen. 
What language was that?
  Susanna jumped up to grab her phone and quickly opened a search engine. 

“
O meu Corazon se afoga en tristeza,” she attempted to read the words aloud as she typed them in.

She waited impatiently for the information to appear.

“Gaelic …” she whispered, staring at the screen, “My heart drowns in sorrow.”

My heart drowns in sorrow
… the words echoed in her head.  She tenderly ran her fingers over them, wondering what horrible event had prompted their appearance. 

Her ringing phone brought her from her thoughts and she stared at the screen, not recognizing the number. 

“Hello?” she answered, clearly distracted.

“Susanna?”

“Yes?”

“This is Emma Bailey.”

“Oh, Hi Emma,” Susanna said, looking back towards the window.

“I just thought I would check on you
to see how you did last night?”

“I’m doing ok
ay.  I had a little trouble with the fire at first but then it seemed to really take off and somehow it made it all night long.  This must be some kind of special wood you have up here.”

“Really?
  Well, I’m glad it all seemed to work out,” Emma answered, “So you’re settling in, no problems or … questions?”

“Um, no.
  I think I’m good so far.  I managed to figure out how to work the stove and actually made myself a pretty decent breakfast. Nothing compared to the one at your place, but I didn’t do too bad,” Susanna trailed off as her eyes scanned the kitchen before something at the door caught her attention.

“Well, if you need us, all you have to do is call,”
Emma replied.

Susanna was silent as she stared at the rusty lock on the front door. 

“Susanna?” Emma called, “Susanna, are you there?”

“Yes,” Susanna answered, preoccupied as she stood up and walked towards the door. 

“Are you okay?” Emma asked.

“I’ve locked this door three times now …” Susanna trailed off as her fingers turned the lock once again. 
Suddenly, realization hit her.  She marched into the living room and looked at the wood, which was now so obviously depleted from the night before.  How had she not seen it?  She whipped her head around to the small table on which she had found her phone.  She distinctly remembered setting it down beside her by the fire, how did it make it across the room.

“Susanna …” Emma
said, her voice eerily calm.

“Emma …
has Bill come by?” Susanna asked. 

“No dear.  He’s not been over since he took you to the island.”

“It’s so strange … the door won’t stay locked and some of my things are moving around.” Susanna trailed off as she looked around the room.

“There is nothing to be afraid of, Susanna,” Emma said evenly.

“I’m not afraid … yet,” Susanna blinked in suspicion, “Emma, why would you even say that?  Should I be afraid?”

“I would never have sent you to the island if you were in danger.”

Susanna laughed nervously, “It’s almost like there’s a ghost here.”  She was greeted by silence on the other end of the phone, “Emma?”

“Not
everything can be explained …”

Susanna
stared incredulously towards the fire, “Are you telling me I’m in this lighthouse with a ghost?”

Emma was quiet and this
response produced chills over Susanna, “Seriously?”

“I’ve stayed at that
lighthouse many of nights, Susanna, and I have never seen a
ghost
,” she emphasized the last word firmly.

Hoping to calm her own fears and lighten the conversation, Susanna laughed
“Well whoever it is, ghost or otherwise, they seem to be helping me out at this point. Besides leaving the damn door unlocked.”

“There is a book there about the history of the lighthouse
. It should be on the shelf in the living room.  You should read it while you’re there … it might help with your article.”

Susanna
squinted as she scanned the shelf, “I’ll try to find it.”

“Good
. Call if you need us, we’re only a boat ride away.”

“I will,” Susanna answered.

After hanging up the phone she immediately went to the living room to sift through the books that lined the small shelf.  There were books on the history of Maine and lighthouses of the Northeast but she couldn’t find anything specific on this one. 

“Nothing,” she murmured, “Maybe someone took it with them.” 

Heading back to the kitchen table she did a quick search of books online and easily found the one that Emma spoke of. 
Sea Swept:  The History of the Cape Elizabeth Lighthouse
, she read the name out loud.  She went back to the shelf now that she knew what to look for and still did not find it.  The book was only available in hardback so there was no way she could download for an instant read.  She made a mental note to order it once she got back to the office. 

After cleaning
the kitchen, Susanna dressed warmly and took her laptop outside to the wooden table and bench that faced the water.  She could hear the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the sounds of the birds above her and she smiled, realizing this was the perfect location to write.  She made a few notes about her stay with Emma and Bill and her adventurous ride over on the boat, things that she didn’t want to forget when she was nestled back into her hectic office in Atlanta.  She wanted to be able to remember the smell of the island and the sounds all around her.  She wondered if she would ever be able to write anything that would do it justice.  Her ringing phone pulled her from her thoughts. 

“Hey Michelle,” Susanna answered.

“Hi there.  Just checking on you, making sure you’re settled and things are going well.”

“It’s beautiful here, everything’
s going great,” Susanna answered looking out over the water and for the first time noticing the clouds darkening in the distance.

“Think you will make it the entire week?” Michelle asked
over the sound of her fingers pounding the keyboard of her computer in the background.

Susanna
grinned, “I think so.  It’s pretty peaceful out here.”

“We’ll see.  I think you’ll start to miss civilization … and Starbucks.”

Susanna laughed, “Believe it or not, they have a coffee maker here.”

“So not the same,” Michelle
countered. “Okay, someone’s coming in.  I just wanted to check in.”

“Hey, Michelle, quick question,” Susanna took a sip of her tea, “Who’s idea was this?  I mean, does someone in corporate have family up here? 
It’s a great assignment and I love it, but it is off the beaten path.”

Michelle paused, “Oh, I thought I told you.”

“Told me what?”

“They asked for someone to come out,” Michelle seemed distracted as she talked to
somebody else in the background.

“What do you mean?  Who asked?” Susanna was puzzled.

“The lighthouse keeper, the folks in that town … what was her name … Emma!” Michelle suddenly remembered, “Emma, the lady that runs the bed and breakfast and helps takes care of the lighthouse.  She called and asked for someone to come out.  She thought it would make a great article.”

Susanna was astounded, “Emma
asked
for this?”

“Not only did she ask, but she asked for you specifically.  I thought it was a great fit, but I distinctly remember her asking for you.  I figured she must have read some of your pieces before.”

“Huh,” Susanna chewed her lip and tapped her fingers against the wood table, “Funny, she never mentioned that.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s working out
. I’ve gotta run, they need me in layout.”

Michelle hung up the phone leaving Susanna staring
out at the rising waves.

“Weird,” Susanna murmured
as she rubbed her arms. It was then that she noticed the trees swaying in the heavy wind which was picking up by the minute.  She immediately opened up the weather on her laptop and could see the green and red images rolling close to the area.

“Great,” she sighed, looking up into the sky
and then towards the lighthouse.  “Well, it’s been here for nearly 200 years. I guess it’s built to withstand storms.”