Isolation

Three weeks up there in that stone tower, shining that light out on the water, keeping the ships from crashing onto the jagged jaws of the rocky shore. Nothing but the mildew and your thoughts. It drives you mad, I know it does, I've seen it.

I knew a man who worked in a lighthouse once. His name was Saul. Part of my job was delivering him supplies every few weeks and making sure he was still alive and well. Usually, there'd be another to swap out with him but few kept that job for long. Of course, it has since been outlawed to leave a man out there alone like that. Saul didn't seem like he had many other options, seeing as he stayed there alone full time. The lighthouse was positioned on a cliff, due to a dangerous, narrow passing underneath two walls of jagged rock with enough space for one ship at a time, presumably full of desperate sailors or merchants. Countless crews perished at the cruel salty hands of the sea or worse, were dashed against the stony shores at the foot of the lighthouse, the bottom of the cliff. Entire crews have perished on those rocks, splintered wood, and lacerated corpses would quickly be stolen away, hidden in Davey Jones' locker. Saul, the poor bastard, would be there for three weeks at a time. His sole purpose was to save lives when the night was ink black or the storms were too thick. I'd row out a few miles from the mainland to deliver him food and clothes, replenishing whatever else he'd depleted over the last month. Three weeks up there in that stone tower, shining that light out on the water, keeping the ships from crashing onto the jagged jaws of the rocky shore. Nothing but the mildew and your thoughts. It drives you mad, I know it does, I've seen it.

Saul seemed like an okay chap at first. I would row that boat a few miles from the mainland, taking healthy puffs from my corncob pipe all the way. Saul would come down to the dock and we'd make small talk while we moved the boxes off of the boat, all the way up the hill and into the lighthouse. He'd ask about the recent happenings on the mainland, and I agreed to start bringing him a few newspapers each time I visited. He was a talkative guy and remarkably well-groomed for his living arrangement. I shook his hand and waved goodbye before rowing the boat into the mist and away from that old lighthouse.

A month later I saw Saul again, and he greeted me as warmly as before. He seemed to be making an attempt at a beard, maybe to match my own. But his patchy stubble would have a long way to go before it met the wild salt and pepper mane I had. My son, years ago when he was a lad, use to tug on the thing asking me if there were any squirrels or birds hiding inside. I gave Saul a small stack of newspapers and a few books of my own as well. The man was ecstatic and showed his gratitude by sharing a bottle of whiskey and a few games of cards.

It was clear Saul regarded me as a friend, and to admit it was mutual. He was a funny guy and told scandalous stories about friends he'd had and places they'd gone. One story he told about a girl he’d met named Sarah had us howling for at least five minutes straight. He described how he had picked her up with the perfect one-liner and brought her home despite her having a boyfriend. The story seemed too outlandish to be true, but I suppose I might embellish a few things too if I only had a few short hours of conversation every month.

Saul was generally in a good mood while we loaded the supplies into the lighthouse. This time, however, before I got onto my boat and was off he leveled with me. "This place... " he said exasperated, stopping himself.

"Must get lonely out here" I reply.

He paused then said, "Oh, you have no idea."

As I rowed away from the island, I noted several floating objects near the lighthouse's shore. I hadn't seen anything on my way in, but upon closer inspection, there were bits of wood and other debris floating about. Maybe Saul was careless with his garbage disposal. I'd be sure to discuss this with him upon my return.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't see Saul again for at least five weeks instead of the usual three. A rather intense series of storms pummeled the tall black cliffs, locking my small boat out and poor Saul in. When I finally made my way back toward that old lighthouse, I noticed Saul was not on the shores as he usually was. And as I docked he still did not come down to greet me. Part of my duties was to see that the lighthouse keeper was in good health, and relatively good spirits, naturally, I felt the need to investigate his absence. I opened the tower door to the main room. It held a small kitchen and a table where one could eat. There were a few oil lamps that were casting enough light to see the dank interior of the tower. To my left were the stairs that led all the way up to the top. As I entered the room I was startled to see Saul sitting with his back to me. He sat at a small wooden table in the corner of the room.

"Hello Saul, are you all right?" I asked

After a short but thoughtful pause, he answered, "Yes, of course."

"Alright mate," I said slowly "Would ya give me a hand with these boxes?"

"Yes...of course." I had the feeling that I had interrupted something and said nothing else. But as he stood from the table I noted that it was set for a meal, but what irked me was that there were plates and silverware set for two.

We loaded the boxes in silence and I left quite shortly after, completely forgetting to mention the garbage floating in increasing numbers around the shores of the lighthouse. As I rowed away, puffing the pipe I’ve had a few decades too long, I made a point to inspect the rubbish floating about. To my surprise and growing confusion, the floating bits of garbage were in fact bits of cloth and varying sizes of wood.

When I left Saul that time, I felt guilty. I inquired about finding him a partner, or at least someone to swap out with him. I was told that the search was already underway for a capable lighthouse technician. With this good news, I returned to the lighthouse in the following weeks quite enthusiastically. Saul was not on the shore but as I docked he came out to greet me with a pleasant wave and smile.

"Well, you look to be in better spirits," I laughed as he came to shake my hand.

"Aye, it is a fine day for friends isn't it?"

"I suppose," I said with a confused smile. We began loading the supplies while laughing and joking like before. I was baffled by how jovial and completely serene he seemed.

"Saul, I have great news," I said as he looked up at me. "You may have a partner here soon, or at the very least someone to swap out with."

Saul smiled politely with the sort of face a mother gives her toddler when it shows her a drawing or asks for attention. Polite interest.

"That's nice," He then turned and continued to lift a box from the dock. "I thought you'd be more excited, seeing as you're out here. Alone," I said as I lifted a box and followed him up the hill and toward the lighthouse.

"Oh, I'm not alone. One can make friends wherever, as long they're open to it. Don't you agree?"

I beamed, I hadn't grown up with many friends and always had trouble making them, but Saul seemed to genuinely consider me as one of his pals, "I certainly agree."

"That reminds me of something Nigel would say," Saul said with a smile.

"Nigel?" I asked before Saul could continue with the anecdote.

"Yea, I've told you about him haven't I?" Saul asked.

"Yea, maybe not by name," I replied. We loaded the boxes, but when I offered to stay for a bit and maybe play a game of cards Saul spoke of having something urgent to attend to.

"Yes, I would love to but there's a leak in the upper level of the lighthouse and if I don't handle it before the storm comes it'll be a disaster."

"Ya’ need a hand?" I offered "I've fixed a few leaks in my day."

"Oh no, I'm sure I can handle it. Thank you though. Farewell." He said quickly. I almost turned to walk away before remembering something.

"Oh Saul, have you been dumping your trash over the cliff?"

Saul looked at me puzzled. "Of course not why?"

"It's just that in the water around the shore, there’s a lot of garbage."

"Oh, that's not garbage. That's debris. I meant to tell you," his speech quickened as he remembered the story. The way one does when explaining to a friend the drama they had witnessed during the day.

"During that storm a few weeks back, a ship came through. The wind was whipping and howling worse than I've ever seen. The lighthouse was no use, the waves were far taller than any of their masts on board. The sailors were running around the deck like ants trying to rebuild a squashed anthill. All working furiously in vain. They were knocked onto their side and were dashed onto the rocks. Crack. Splat. Like an egg into a pan. I could hear them from all the way at the top of the tower. Just screaming."

I stared at Saul in awe, mouth ajar. Then I sputtered, "Uhm, I'm sorry you had to see that. That must have been terrible."

Saul stood still, eyes fixed in the distance. He didn't hear me, or he forgot I was there.

"Hmm what was that? Oh yes, very terrible. I'll be seeing you now, I have that bastard leak to attend to."

I turned to leave the lighthouse, pondering what it must have been like, being forced to watch those sailors die so horribly. Then I thought to myself a little later, as I rowed away further and further from those tall black cliffs and that slender gray lighthouse. As I looked up and saw Saul standing at the top of the tower watching me row away, I thought to myself. "Wasn't there debris in the water before the storm?"

By the time I was due to return to that small dark island, a new lighthouse technician had been hired. He was to be his partner for a week as a trial. If they both agreed, they could be partners. If not, one could swap with the other instead. The guy they found seemed nice enough, clean-cut, and young. No older than twenty, his face was pink from the sharp wind. He told me his name but I made no point to remember, I had other things on the mind. He might've been a bit talkative, but I was sure Saul would be fine with that, if not elated. We arrived at the dock, and Saul was nowhere to be seen. We docked the small boat and stepped off and I began explaining Saul's sometimes strange behavior.

"I’ve worked the towers around here since before you were born. And I’ve met many of the men who’ve worked these towers and Saul is one of a kind. He can be a bit... off at times but he's an okay bloke."

The man nodded but remained silent. I knocked on the lighthouse door and after a few moments it crept open.

Saul smiled and shook my hand upon seeing me, "Oh is it that time of the month already?"

Before I could introduce Saul to his new partner, his gaze had already been set on him. I thought I had mistaken it but I now know I didn't. When his gaze fell upon the new technician it darkened horribly. His eyes went from light with joy from seeing an old friend to a dead, cold, glare, but this was only a flash. He resumed his friendly smile in an instant. It was as if his mask had slipped but only for a moment. I knew there was something brewing beneath the surface, something insidious. But I assumed this was only one of the many detriments brought on by extreme loneliness. I had no idea of the true effect of prolonged isolation, but I soon would. So, after a short introduction and an even shorter unloading, I was off, leaving Saul, and his young partner alone at the lighthouse.

One short week later I found myself back on those slick rocky shores. The clouds were gray like a matted alley cat fur. They were intense and foreboding. I didn't bother unloading the boxes yet, the small boat carried enough rations for two men to last several weeks. I would need to see if the lad even planned on staying here with Saul, alone. The walk to the lighthouse was long, I spent it struggling to keep my footing. The slick stones made slipping onto my back all too probable. It had been raining for several hours now. A storm was coming. By the time I made my way up the hill, the door burst open, and out poured the young technician. He raced passed me, tripping, running on all fours for a moment before regaining his balance, and returning to bipedal movement. He was truly moving with every fiber of his being away from the lighthouse, away from Saul.

I followed the boy down the hill.

"OY! What happened?"

The boy didn't stop moving until he was in the small boat. He looked at me as I approached tears welling in his eyes.

"What’s yer’ problem? What happened?"

"We need to go. Now."

He looked into my eyes, and he reminded me of my boy. I knew he was truly scared for his safety.

"Tell me what’s going on," I said now taking him very seriously.

"We just need to leave. I quit okay, I'm leaving," He said with tears in his throat.

I looked at the boy with irritation, "Well I don't know if you can tell but it's raining. That means the storm is fixin' to be here."

"What? How long?"

"Not long enough for us to row back to shore, we might need to stay here a few hours. Maybe the night."

The boy began to cry again, and leaped for my pant leg from his seat in the rowboat "Please! You have to believe me, I'd rather risk it and go!"

I yanked my foot away, "Boy we'll die drowning! Is that what you want?"

"You don't understand he lets them die! HE-HE," the boy was interrupted by his own stomach. His face turned a pale shade and he then became sick onto himself. Covered in bile, he then leaped to the side of the boat to vomit again. This went on for a while before I decided to investigate for myself. I moved in a hurry, hoping to beat the storm if possible, running up the hill toward the lighthouse.

I stood in the dim doorway of the oh-so dim lighthouse. The irony of the misnomer wasn't lost on me. It may have been dark but a hellish odor was much too clear. It hung in the air and was inescapable inside the cylindrical cement walls. I gagged, covering my lower face and beard with my sweater. Rather than clamoring through the dark, I beckoned for Saul, he was still my friend after all.

"Saul!" I called. No response. Maybe, he's at the top and cannot hear me.

"SAUL!"

Nothing.

Then I heard light, slow steps coming down the stairs. It was Saul, politely stepping down the damp, rough stone stairwell. Before I could see him I could see a soft orange light thrown onto the gray, cement walls. It flickered weakly.

"Hello," he said quietly but with confidence as he came into view. He was holding a candle holder by the small brass handle. In it was a tall fresh, white candle, now glowing with vibrancy, the flame lighting the room. "How have you been?"

I stood puzzled, "I'm fine Saul, how are you?"

"Quite alright," He grinned.

"What happened with the new guy?" I asked.

"Oh, him," pretending to have forgotten him, "He was a drama queen."

I immediately felt something was very off. Saul was moving in an unnatural way. He wasn't high or drunk but he seemed completely parallel to himself. A doppelganger.

"I think I know what you mean," I laughed or tried to.

"Yes, he didn't understand. He's young and insensitive."

"Understand what Saul?" I asked becoming more nervous with each step Saul took down the steps. He didn't respond to me, but he kept moving down the steps and the candle he held kept illuminating his dark face with that same friendly, polite smile. Except now that smile was different. The shadows moved constantly with the flicker of the flame. The optical illusion caused his smile to shift seamlessly from scowl to grin. Yet it had been the same face the entire time. I could just see it now.

"Come on, I'll show you. You still down for some cards?"

"Well, I can't right now I ha-"

"Can you at least take a look at the leak? It seems to have gotten worse."

I stood speechless for a moment, if I said no and something happened over the next few weeks, I would be held accountable. Saying no wasn't a part of my job description.

I smiled weakly and nodded in silent response. Saul then turned and began walking back up the stairs. I followed him, with each step my feet got heavier. Like led was being poured into my shoes. I knew with every ounce of the blood and sweat in my body that I should have left and never entered that tower. It felt like a black hole, it felt like my destiny was tied up here somehow, it felt inevitable. Even when I rowed up to the island and made my way up the hill. And especially now, as Saul moved further and further up the lighthouse. He walked quickly, with excitement. I could see the candle still in his grips, the flame weakening steadily now. My stomach groaned in anxious turmoil, but nothing like the clouds brewing in the distance. Through small windows placed along the stairwell, I could see them swelling and spreading. They're alive with electricity and divine natural power, only waiting to unleash themselves. To explode onto the land with an uncontrollable torrent of ice cold rain, making my escape impossible. I then began to hurry, hoping not to spend the night anywhere near Saul or this lighthouse.

At the top of the stairs is where reality ended. When I recall the moment of entering the room containing the light that shined onto that icy water, I struggle to envision what I saw. Not because I forgot, no but because the images were so ungodly that their memory brings me mental pain and literal vomit. The scene I saw is seared into my memory. Scorching and scalding whatever sense of sanity or humanity I had.

At the top of the stairs was a dark room seeing as the light of the light house was not being illuminated. Unfortunatley this did not keep the grim scene from being much too clear. Scattered around the room, in varying positions, wearing different clothing, and sporting different grimaces, were cold, wet, pale rotting corpses. The stench struck my nose like a bat.

Soggy, sallow rotting flesh is a stench concocted by Satan himself, designed to bring your stomach's contents to the surface. And then the bile, and even after being emptied the smell still brought me to dry heave painfully. After being sick I looked, and I wish I never did. Gripping the lighthouse light, like a mannequin, was the body of a bearded man wearing a sailor's outfit, specifically a captain going by the hat that sat on his head. The hat was nearly falling off because the neck of the corpse was broken in such a severe way. It looked as if the sailor was turning his head to see something sideways. The vertebrae of his spine were visible through the skin of his throat, nearly tearing it. His clothes were tattered and mostly rags, but there was enough to recognize the rank. His jaw was clearly broken and dangling ajar allowing his tongue to hang out to dry. His eyes were half open but rolled into his head only revealing the whites. His flesh looked as if it would tear at the slightest touch. It was already torn and gashed in several places revealing bones and organs.

"This is Nigel," Saul said as if introducing an old pal, "I would have introduced you sooner but he's an ornery old bastard," Saul said laughing, he then gave Nigel a playful punch to the arm.

"Oh you have to meet Sarah'', Saul said gesturing toward the other side of the circular room, where on the floor sat a mess of sheets and blankets. It was obviously where Saul had been sleeping. There were clothes scattered around his makeshift bed. There were slacks and an undershirt, but also what looked like a tattered blouse and ladie’s undergarments. I couldn't see anything else for a moment, I assumed he was mistaken. Then I saw under the messy pile, peeking out from underneath a blanket was a long pale leg. It was a woman's leg.

At this my stomach dropped, and my brain screamed at me for my stupidity. Run.

"Err- umm I've gotta' go Saul," I sputtered trying to hold back tears.

"A bit early innit? " he said disappointed "You haven't even met the whole gang yet."

I turned to go "Maybe next time Saul, gotta' beat the storm,"

Just then, like a cruel joke, thunder cracked like a whip initiating a downpour of rain so intense you wouldn't be able to see your own hand if it were slapping your face.

"Can't be out in a storm like that now can ya’?" Saul said smiling now, "I won't have it, you may as well spend the night".

So when I say being up in that tower drives you mad, you can believe me.

I’ve seen it.