The Body in the Lighthouse by Katherine Hall Page

Author:Katherine Hall Page [Page, Katherine Hall]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Usenet, C429, Kat, Exratorrents
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2003-01-18T13:00:00+00:00

Seven

“It’s the loneliest of all the lighthouse stations in the United States. Twenty miles from the mainland, and I don’t know if you could even call it an island. More like a big ledge or rock. That’s what it’s called, Mount Desert Rock. The force of the winter seas there can move seventy-five-ton boulders as if they were some of your LEGO bricks.” Ursula was continuing her lighthouse tales before a rapt audience of Ben and both his parents.

“But it goes to show you what people will do even in the worst of circumstances. Mount Desert Rock—a half acre, if that—is the site of God’s Rock Garden. After the lighthouse was built, lobstermen and other mariners would bring bags of soil of all sorts and sizes every spring. Sometimes they just had the dirt in their pockets. Yet it was worth all the money in the world to the people on the rock. The keepers and their families would pat it into the cracks, then plant seeds. I heard one of the keeper’s wives on the radio once, reminiscing about what she grew: nasturtiums, zinnias, bachelor’s buttons, carrots, lettuce, peas, and beans. It must have been a sight—all those colors. During the winter, every speck of soil would be washed off, but they’d just start again the next spring.”

Faith didn’t know whether to feel uplifted or depressed. The story was inspirational—an example of the indomitable human spirit—but she also imagined herself as the keeper’s wife: Here we go again. The damn water’s washing all our hard work away and how did I end up on this godforsaken rock in the first place? God should have arranged it so his rock garden was a whole lot farther above sea level.

Clearly, none of these cynical thoughts were crossing the minds of those around her. Ben was quite obviously picturing himself funneling the precious earth into the crevices and planting, say, corn or watermelons or even pumpkins. Big stuff.

“That’s an amazing story, Ursula,” Tom said. “I’d like to work it into a sermon. Think of the mustard seed.”

Faith sighed. She had married a minister, after all, and conversations like this were par for the course. Not that she wasn’t proud, but when she thought of mustard seeds, she thought of Dijon or dill pickles.

“Tell us some more,” Ben begged.

“Well, let me see.” Ursula paused to drink some of the rich, chocolately hot cocoa Faith had made. The weather on the island had cooled down, and they had even had a few showers in the morning.

“There was one group that wasn’t happy when so many lighthouses began to be built. These were the mooncussers.”

“Mooncussers! What does that mean?” Ben asked, darting a look at his mother. Oh joy, was Mrs. Rowe swearing?

“Exactly what it sounds like—people who cursed the moon, the full moon in particular, because it shed too much light, and light was the enemy of the mooncusser.”

Tom smiled. “I know about mooncussers.”

“Me, too,” said Faith, who had read Daphne du Maurier’s Jamaica Inn at least twice.

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