In the aftermath those who sputter and vomit upon the shores in the morning believe they have passed through hell when in fact they have merely washed up on its shore.
. First mate Carson held the shaking old Captain as life sputtered out of his wrinkled shell. He was highest ranking now and told the others to gather rocks and stray rope pieces. They weighted down the 5 others and took them out into the water. No words where said for what could they say but to curse the sea that spit them out onto this bleak horizon.
"No fire will ever warm me again." The words came from Davis but the thoughts were from the remaining seven men .It was a terrible day; that first day on that beach. And the night was fraught with the screaming waves and the gurgling of dying men.
On the second day five men were left healthy enough to continue.
It wasn't until the forth day that Weston came back to report he'd found an abandoned Spanish lighthouse.
Carson had him lead the way up the craggy black rocks. Back to the silhouette of broken teeth rising up to tear at the fading sun.
Inside they set about lighting the five fires within the tower itself, and there they slept beaten and exhausted some fell into sleep crying like children, others like wounded animals. Only Carson stared out at the light they made... being swallowed by an unholy night.
Morning found them sore and hungry making their way down the steep stone steeps was an effort. Spiraling down and branching off to the wheelhouse and the living quarters. After a morning of scavenging they devised a few traps and sought roots and fruits.
"Well" said Carson whilst lighting a fire. "We'll not stave I should think"
"Aye Capt. But we may wish to after a few weeks of coconut and papaya" spouted Weston
"It's not unlike our ships menu really" teamed up Davis. "If we burn it, it'll be just like home"
With this there was a small laugh a hollow laugh, a laugh that said 'yes we are alive and trying to be brave, for each other. But in that they took heart that they were not alone upon these distant shores.
Kale was stirring over something by the fireplace, it was huge and the frame of it made the fire seem small his silhouette animated by the light as he worked about in it.
"What is that foul smell Kale" Weston asked moving toward him." It's some spices I found, I'll be damned if I can bother living without some brew of..." that's when he dropped the tin mug.
"What is it Kale you're as pale as a ghost.” Weston touched his shoulder.
"Did you see her?" he pointed, and the turned in unison to stare at the damp brickwork of the room
"There's nothing Kale." Said Weston. "Your imagination is all" But his neck hairs pricked up and his arms covered in gooseflesh...he felt it then, his own doom he became aware of his own doom.
That night they slept in the living quarters with bellies filled and warm foul smelling tea in their nostrils.
In the dank hours of morning Weston awoke and saw Kale sitting up looking into the fire. Three times he whispered to him before he finally went over.
"Captain." He bellowed. "Captain. Kale's dead, he's dead as a stone!"
Within seconds they were all up and staring. Weston came back to the group wide eyed and sweating. "Dear God Boys, something scared hell out of him, oh dear God the look on his face, Jesus..."
And with that he heaved to and wretched onto the floor before curling up in a ball and talking gibberish to himself.
They all got up and went to see Kale. Sitting up straight, dead as could be .His lifeless face caught twisted in agony and fear was something no one would soon forget.
While they buried him, they came to the conclusion that he had sat up all night. That along with the rest of it caused him to panic himself into a heart attack. They had to break most of his bones to set him into his grave; it was a very disturbing event. Weston took no part but stayed inside mumbling, by evening of that day they began to wonder if it had shattered his mind. By late night he sat staring at the spot in which he found Kale.
Just to break the tension and get out of the room Carson and Hanson went to light the tower fires try as they might one wouldn't take flame. They changed the oil and cleaned the well. They tried the back up wood burners nothing was for it the fire would not light. In the closed in spiraling staircase Hanson turned to the captain and whispered.” You feel it too don't you Captain?"
"Yes” was all he said.” I feel it.”
Before the fireplace they gathered. Around the corners of the room they had lit torches to keep the shadows from looming and giving rise to imaginary creatures.
Carson tried his best to lighten the mood, telling the others of the fire that wouldn't light to make conversation.” Captain?" asked Weston "which fire was it?" he looked deep at him for a response.
"I believe it was north, north east. Weston."
"Aye it was nor east sir. That it was" chimed in Hanson off handily.
Now Weston stood, hand in mouth. Davis was up as well; they both stared at Carson and said in unison.
"That was Kale's fire!"
Hanson and Weston both looked mad with fear.
"What of it I lit two fires ... Kale" Carson started "Kale, was exhausted; let his imagination carry him away"
"I saw her Captain. I saw her when you were in the tower. I saw her just like Kale did." he began to sob.
"Hanson was ready to break down looking about and mumbling. Carson looked to Davis for some support, but Davis was already on his feet and shaking Hanson's shoulders. "Stop it! Stop it I say, both of you. You'll will end up like Kale" Weston brushed by them to grab the Captain. "Tomorrow Captain. Tomorrow throw my body over the cliff, don't bury me here, not here Captain please!"
"Get a hold on yourself man! There will be nothing of the sort, you hear?” Carson hardly had the words out when he saw the apparition cross in front of the fireplace.
The other three turned to look... "My god, oh dear sweet Jesus I." Weston faltered. Then sputtered
Before he fell over.
"Hanson ran screaming from the room, Carson stood in dumbfounded amazement.
She moved across the room with perfect grace with her head turning to look at them .A silky white form shifting past the fire and fading like a star will in the night.
Davis crossed himself and began praying. Weston gave up his spirit with a convulsion as blood trickled from his mouth where he had bitten his tongue off. Carson looked at the slow growing pool of shiny liquid, mesmerized by the firelights reflection in it.
The scene was shattered by Hanson's long piercing cry. Davis and Carson ran toward it.
They found him in the tower slumped in the corner, his eyes vacant and his lifeless hand frozen pointing to the fires... Carson's fires. They were the only ones burning now and her figure was fading away behind it.
"Now there are only us left lover, us and the night once again."
"Curse you to hell unclean spirit, curse your...”
With that he was cut off by the sudden change in her appearance from beauty to old ragged crone, he saw the true form of this long dead lover, withered and worm eaten as she had appeared to the others.
Only a moment and she regained her composure. The wispy shards of her scattered form coalescing back into her real form.
"I have waited 452 years for those fires to be lighted by you lover, why voice raised in tempo and pitch until it was a ghostly wail echoing through the light house tower."
"I am not your lover maiden.” He tries a different tact.” I am naughty but a shipwrecked sailor, washed upon these distant shores."
"No!" Her wailing screech tears the night.” No"
"You lit both lights you alone, in 450 years you alone of 300 shipwrecked souls lit those 2 lights.
You will be mine."
"No madam ...I. I am spoken for by another."
"No you will be mine." With that the door at the bottom of the stairs clanged shut.
"In your death you shall join me you and I lover shall live eternally in this house!
You told me to wait and I waited now I shall not be turned aside."
No Madam I shall not endure your hideous form for another day you foul wretch” I would choose rather to enter hell." And as he said it toward the window he went "I shall have my revenge in hell Madam where all suicides reside...and upon the rocks below lay his shattered body, and her moan grew to a fevered scream.
But let us feel not hatred toward this fell ghost for her lot is unendurable, promised to wait for one who knew he'd never return, to wait endlessly to wait forever upon these distant shores.
