Beth – Its funny what you find….
I wrote this back in 2000. I didn’t think about it, I sat down and my fingers moved by themselves. I didn’t even read it until I was finished typing. Sometimes the mood just takes over. I know there is one part that doesn’t really make sense but I don’t think changing it will make much difference.
The old man walked slowly back from the bathroom. This time he had felt the start of the attack and had made it to the wash basin before he was sick. Even the rush to the porcelain bowl had sapped his strength. As he made his way back to his living room he let his hand trail along a line of leather bound books, neatly stacked in a floor to ceiling book shelf. He laughed ironically to himself as he passed by row upon row of first editions and rare antiquities. He had spent his entire life passionately seeking out and purchasing rare books, all the while anticipating spending his long autumn years reading aloud to his grandchildren. It was too late now for him. His eyes were failing and soon he would be unable to read the text that he for so long cherished. As for grandchildren, he shook his head as he wished that his wife had stayed alive long enough for them to have children, let alone grandchildren.
He missed his wife more than anything else in the world. They had been married only a few weeks when the war in Europe had drawn the attention of America. As a young man, full of piss and vinegar he had signed up without even telling his wife first. How Beth had screamed at him when he returned from the Army Offices. He knew in his heart that Beth was proud of him and understood why he was volunteered. That night, as they lay in each other’s arms, covered with a thin layer of sweat he had promised her that he would return to her without a scratch. Beth had cried and he comforted her before their passion grew anew and they made love well into the morning. He had returned from Europe, as promised, without a scratch. But it was just one month too late for Beth. She had been stricken with a illness and had died in her father’s arms in the local hospital. When he had gone to his house to find his wife, all he found was a letter from her father explaining what had happened. He had thought he would go insane with the hurt inside of his heart. During the following weeks and months he stopped caring about the world or himself. More time was spent drunk than sober. Money for drink was not a problem, having inherited a large amount of money from an uncle, but there was not enough money to bring back the one person he cared about. He would probably have died if the job had not been offered to him.
To this day he still didn’t know if the job had been offered to him out of sympathy but the job had been offered and he accepted, relishing the solitude and the chance to distance himself from every other living being in his life. His first tour on the lighthouse had scared him nearly to death. As the waves broke along the side of the building he had shaken with fear. Slowly he learned that no matter the force of the storm, he was safe behind the solid stone walls of the lighthouse. Even when he sat at the very top, with his back towards the giant light, he had the thick glass between himself and the fury of the waves and wind. He has watched waves reach the thin walkway that circled the light room and once he had watched as a wave, nearly as tall as the lighthouse, smashed against it. He had felt the bricks shudder as the water poured over it. In time the lighthouse become more than just his sanctuary from the rest of the world. It became his home. While he still owned a small cottage on the cliff, he felt most at home on this rock miles out to see. When he infrequently returned to shore he sought out the books that had been a passion since he had learnt to read, many years ago and during the fiercest storms he would sit, alone, and lose himself in another persons words.
He reached his easy chair. The chair had seen better times even before the old man had stumbled across it in a second hand store. He had entered the store to search the shelves of books for anything that piqued his interest but had left with only this chair on his back. As he eased himself down onto the patchwork of colours that had all but replaced the original leather cover, he started to wonder how he had become old so quickly. He had been on shore three days now, three days during which, he had slept, eaten and vomited. He didn’t need to visit a doctor to know that he was dying. Nor did he concern himself with the finality that he found himself facing. For many decades now, he had looked forward to this time. Eagerly praying and hoping that he would be once more reunited with his Beth. He had been a handsome man back then; handsome enough to attract more than his fair share of attention, but what could any woman offer him? In his eyes they were all nothing compared to his lost wife. Only once had he felt the urge in his loins, he had followed his urge and visited a house of ill-repute but had left with tears in his eyes before he could even say a word.
The lighthouse. His lighthouse was due to be demolished to allow a newer, automated one to be built in its place. He was to be pensioned off and left to rot like driftwood caught up on a beach. He didn’t feel bitter or angry at being pushed to the side. He was growing weary of this life and his interest in anything was waning. They had asked him if he would like them to transport the last of his books from the lighthouse for him. He had snorted his disgust and told them that he was still capable of carrying books. One last visit was all there was left in his future.
He sat in his easy chair and watched as the clouds out to see darkened and the waves grew white tops as the wind whipped them up into a fury. His eyes became heavy as the first flash of lightning lit up the sky. His breathing slowed and deepened as his body relaxed and began to sleep. Even in his sleep he missed Beth. His memory had worsened in the last few years and more than a few times he had woken up with tears streaming down his face as he had dreamt of Beth but had not been able to see her face.
As he dreamt this time though, it was different. He was a young man again, strong in body and mind. Beth was there with him, holding his arm as they walked along the beach. Her face once again made his heart skip. Her eyes looked at him with love and he kissed her again and again until they fell over in a heap laughing. As he ran his fingers through her hair he saw that there was tears in her eyes. He asked what the matter was and she replied that she had missed him. He made to say that he hadn’t been away but before he spoke he realised what had happened and where he was and he kissed her and promised never to leave her again.
