Darkhouse

I turned around and looked at him. I smiled what must have been a very brave but very fake smile. I knew my eyes were moist and fearful, not matching up with my grin at all.



He was staring at me, not looking as confused as I thought he might be, but curious.



“OK,” I said. “You go check in. We’ll meet in the morning and head back to Portland.”



He took another step closer, those relentless eyes searching mine for something, anything, that would satisfy him.



“Is that what you want?” he asked.



No. It wasn’t.



“I’m sorry I ruined your show, Dex,” I said meekly.



He stared at the ground for a second and shook his head. “You shouldn’t apologize. It’s not very becoming of you.”



He looked up. “Besides, it’s not my show. It’s our show. Everything isn’t lost yet, kiddo.”



Everything isn’t lost yet. Where had I heard that before?



“Say that again?”



“What?”



“Nothing.”



I could see that he didn’t believe it was nothing, but he let it slide. He looked around.



“Do you want me to stay here tonight?” he asked. There was no hesitation in his voice.



Of course, I wanted him to stay. I would have asked anyone to stay.



“This will sound stupid,” I began, “but do you mind staying until Uncle Al or the twins get home? You can just hang out here, watch whatever you like, play video games. I’ll go to sleep in the other room. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”



He nodded. “Sure.”



I felt bad for asking and for preventing him from checking in. “I’m sorry, it’s just...I can’t even begin to explain what I saw out there. I—”



He took a step towards me, shaking his head. “Don’t. Don’t explain. I want to hear it, but we can discuss it in the morning. And please don’t apologize either. That’s a weakness, not a strength. I don’t need your apology. In fact, none of this would have happened if I hadn’t left your side, so I’m the one who is sorry.”



“Dex, it was dark—”



“And so, anyway, you can see why I don’t mind having to stay here for a few hours.”



“OK,” I smiled. The relief that was pouring through my body was amazing. “Thank you,” I said starting towards the spare room, “and good night.”



“I’ll be here if you need anything,” he called after me.



I paused at the door to the room before closing it behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know that he was still there.



***



The next morning finally arrived after waves of dreamless sleep. I say dreamless because I didn’t remember anything appearing in my dreams but that didn’t mean my mind wasn’t running in a half-delirious, half-asleep state the entire night. Despite being so tired that my body literally could not move an inch once I lay down on the bed, my mind still raced on in a horrific rampage. Flashes of the night, the lamps, the face, the trees, the sweater, the woman on the phone—it all kept swirling through my brain. I had so many questions. Nothing made any sense, which is probably why my brain was still trying to process it at three a.m., even when I wasn’t consciously giving it an ounce of thought.



Needless to say, I did not feel rested at all the next morning. Especially when I woke up to the sound of rain on the roof and a heavy chill in the air. I wished getting out of bed wasn’t an option.



But I had places to go (home, to be precise), though every time I thought about stepping into the warmth and security of my house and seeing my family’s faces, I also had the accompanying feeling of guilt.



Ah yes, me and my guilt. I felt horribly guilty for packing up and leaving this place without accomplishing a single thing. True, I managed to scare the shit out of myself but that would have only been something if I had my camera with me. We would be heading back to Portland knowing the entire weekend was a waste. Worse yet, I felt like it made me look bad and it made my sister’s blog look bad. Who would believe me now that I wasn’t even able to go into the lighthouse again? I had told the world what we were doing and now there was absolutely nothing to show for it. I was going to look like the biggest fool on earth. Not only me, but Dex too.



After I washed up and put on the barest traces of makeup, I stepped into my only other pair of clothes, which happened to be my comfiest: big socks, tapered black yoga pants, a thick, red, long-sleeve tunic, and a wide studded belt. I knew I looked like I was going to a rock concert in the middle of winter but I didn’t care. I just hoped my Docs were dry enough to wear after they had been so waterlogged. It was nice to care about normal things.



I padded my way into the kitchen to see Uncle Al eating cereal at the table. He looked up and smiled.



“Morning! Want some breakfast?”



I shook my head and sat down.



“You look tired. Did you not sleep well?” He sounded concerned.



“I thought I did, but probably not,” I said, then eyed the coffee pot in the corner.



Al followed my eye and got up. “Stay there, I’ll get this in you stat! You are just as bad as me when it comes to coffee, Perry.”



I smiled gratefully. “Was Dex still here when you came in last night?”



“Yes,” he said while pouring me a cup of that gorgeous dark liquid. “He was sitting here and writing in some notebook. He said he didn’t want to leave you with no one else at home.”



He raised his eyebrow over that last sentence. “I suppose that was quite gentlemanly of him. Still think there is something strange about the fellow.”



“No stranger than me.” I shrugged and sipped back my drink. I immediately felt more awake, which of course was bogus since coffee takes about twenty minutes to kick in. Oh, the power of our minds. Something I should keep in mind, considering.



“Did you end up getting it all done?”



I couldn’t help but sigh. “No. We ended up separated. I don’t know where I was...a service road of some sort? In a forest?”



Al shrugged.



I continued, “Anyway, by the time I found Dex again we decided to call it quits.”



“No ghosts?”



I hesitated. “Well. I don’t know. I would like to think my mind was playing tricks on me.”



“You know that lighthouse has a very strange history, Perry. There is a reason I keep it boarded up.”



Intrigued, I examined Al’s face. His sagging eyes were soft but serious.



“Go on,” I encouraged.



He leaned back in his chair. “First of all, I must state for the record that I do not believe in ghosts. But I do believe in evil and I believe evil lives in that lighthouse.”



Uncle Al’s eyes turned the shade of coal. My blood did as well. Evil, in my books, was a million times worse than ghosts.



“You think it is ‘evil’ and you let me go in there?” I exclaimed. “What happened to protecting your favorite niece?”



He shrugged again. “I can’t tell you what you can and can’t do. To you, the idea that it is evil might be as ridiculous as the idea that it is haunted is to me.”



“I don’t even know if it is haunted. That’s why we planned to go back.”



“Whether it is or isn’t to you doesn’t matter. It is evil. To me. You see, the lighthouse was cursed from the beginning. It took forever to build, and a few workers died in freak accidents. And once it was finally ready for operation, the light started malfunctioning. They kept trying but it seemed at least once a week, whatever bulb they put in, it would fail to work after dark.”



I nodded slowly. Just as I had said. I must have read that somewhere; no way is my imagination that good.



“They planned to build a new lighthouse instead, one that was offshore. Not only would the new lighthouse hopefully work better but it wouldn’t get swamped by the fog as often. So the Tillamook Lighthouse just off the beach there was opened. You know of the shipwreck that happened there?”



“I think so.”



“The night before the lighthouse was to be lit for the first time, our lighthouse here failed. For the last time. A ship from Malaysia that was heading up to the Columbia River had crashed into the rocks beneath Terrible Tilly out there. Everybody was thought to have drowned in the wreck, but that wasn’t the case.”



“No?” I asked.



“Well, that officially was the story. But it didn’t explain why the partially burned body of an ethnic woman was found tied to the lighthouse keeper’s bed with strands of kelp.”



I shivered violently, thinking of the charcoal tinges on the bed I saw in the lighthouse. Al stopped and gave me a surprised look. I waved it away and motioned for him to continue.



“The lighthouse keeper at the time was nowhere to be found. It hadn’t really surprised anyone, though. There had been rumors flying around that he had gone crazy here with the isolation. Back then, there wasn’t anything around except for fog and trees. Or maybe he’d been tormented by the ghosts of the people who died building it. Then people started wondering about the supposed curse on the lighthouse. Maybe it had never been cursed to begin with. Maybe he was tampering with the bulbs all along.”



“Sure, but why?”



Al took a languid sip of his coffee. “Many reasons. Attention. Boredom. And maybe he just wanted to see a couple of ships crash and burn.”



“I guess he got his wish.”



“Yes, he did. There had been numerous shipwrecks just off the coast here, but it took a long time for them to stop. They still continued even with Terrible Tilly lit up.”



“Well, if they found a body in the lighthouse, how did they know it came from the ship? I mean, was it even normal to have women on those ships? She was probably a local or something. Caught in some creepy kelp sex game.”



Al looked disgusted at the mention of a kelp sex game. “It wasn’t normal to have women on those ships, but people would be snuck aboard all the time. America, the brave new world, the better life. The body that they found was dressed in foreign clothing and was of Asian descent. So, rumor has it that she must have swam or floated to shore to this lighthouse and tried to find help there.”



I took it all in as much as I could. Things were starting to make sense in the weirdest way possible. Part of me thanked my lucky stars that nothing horrible had happened to me when I was in the lighthouse with Dex. Part of me was more curious than ever to go back and start exploring it all over again. I believe this was a battle between the rational part of my brain and the crazy part of my brain. I hoped my rational part would win.



“So, she comes across...lighthouse man....”



“Old Roddy,” he interjected.



“Right,” I said slowly. “She comes crawling ashore and runs into Old Roddy, who turns her into a sex slave before tying her up and attempting to burn her alive. How do we know she didn’t wash up dead and then he had his...way with her?”



Again, we both grimaced at my suggestions.



“You have a terrible imagination, Perry,” Al chided.



“Well, that’s humanity for you. We are a terrible species.”