35

Sarah rubbed the chill bumps forming on her damp arms. The cyclone forced rainwater through even the tiniest crevices in the gallery walls and windows. The door to the catwalk rattled furiously. She prayed the hinges would stay in place. Should they give way, she and her family would be sucked out into the raging tempest. The skies had been dark as nightfall most of the day. If Frederick were here he could look at the shiny gold watch he kept in his vest pocket and tell her the time. Sarah closed her eyes against such thoughts. It only made the pain in her heart sting all the more. She leaned over and put her arms around Rex’s neck, thankful to have him by her side.

The storm came ashore with a fury never seen before. Surges of wind pressed against the lighthouse. The enormous tower swayed like a palm tree in the unrelenting wind.

Most of those in attendance had their heads bowed. They all prayed, many out loud, that God would spare their lives.

Mr. Claiborne worked to make sure the beacon never went dark.

Sarah’s heart went out to the people lining the spiral stairs. The rungs were so narrow. The desperate cries from the children expressed how terribly afraid they were in the cramped, dark confines of the tower. They hadn’t had anything to eat or drink for hours. There must be something she could do to help. Mr. Claiborne’s water pail!

He’d drawn in the bucket of rainwater and emptied it into another container several times already. Sarah rose from the floor, careful not to lose her balance and headed for the water receptacle. Picking up the two tin cans Mr. Claiborne had previously used, she scooped water into them and went to the hatch in the floor. She opened the doorway.

A woman with wild, windblown hair squinted up at her.

“I have water, two cans full. Tell everyone to take a sip and pass it down. And send them back up so I can refill them.”

The woman accepted the first can and gave a sip to the old, white-haired woman next to her. “Bless you, child.” She then took a small drink herself before passing the cans and the instructions on to the persons sitting below her. “The water is salty.”

“Yes, I know.”

“How can there be seawater in the rain?”

“I don’t know.” She closed the door. Sarah crawled to Mama. “I’m so scared, Mama. I don’t think we’re gonna make it.”

Mama patted Sarah’s arm. “You’ve got to have faith, baby girl. God didn’t bring us this far to abandon us when we need Him the most. He’s gonna see us through.”

Sarah closed her eyes, desperately trying not to panic. She wanted nothing more than to share her mother’s blind faith, but how could she when every one of them was doomed? The inevitable was coming as fast as the impending cyclone. “But there’s never been a storm this bad, Mama! And, and, what about Frederick? He said he was coming back to me, Mama! He’s not gonna make it!”

Mama squeezed her tight and shushed her. “Calm down, Sarah. Everything is gonna…”

Screech!

Mr. Claiborne pulled his head out of the small closet he rustled through and turned his ear to listen.

Screech!

Rex barked wildly at the strange sound.

“What is that?” Grace hollered.

The lightkeeper turned toward her voice, but looked at his nephew. They exchanged a knowing look before he turned his gaze to the closest circular window. “That sounded like the clockworks!” He dashed to the door and peered out the circular window. “It’s the clockworks all right. I don’t see any rotation of the light.” Claiborne put his hands on his hips and stared at the storage closet he’d previously been rummaging through. He turned to Guy. “I’m going up.”

Guy released Grace and jumped to his feet. “Not without a safety rope you’re not.” He went to the closet and pulled out a length of rope and began tying it around his uncle’s waist. He took the other end and tied it to an iron eyebolt.

Mrs. Claiborne hugged him. “Please be careful, dear.”

Mr. Claiborne kissed the top of her head and scrambled from her embrace. He grabbed a couple of tools out of storage and made his way up the ladder built into the gallery wall.

Guy climbed halfway up the ladder and kept watch over him.

“Be careful, Guy!” Grace yelled to her fiancé.

“Come here, Grace!” Mama motioned her over.

Grace scooted across the floor next to Mama.

“Look!” Grace pointed to the window. Once again, the lighthouse beacon was turning round.

“He’s rotating the fixture by hand,” Guy said.

“How long can he keep that up? What if he can’t, and a ship runs ashore? Or even worse, it crashes into the lighthouse!” Grace was terrified.

Mama began softly singing. “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’s blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’s name.”

Sarah and Mrs. Claiborne joined her.

“On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand.”

Mrs. Claiborne sang the next verse. “When darkness veils His lovely face, I rest on his unchanging grace. In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil!”

Mama raised her hand in praise. “Amen!”

God’s presence shined bright inside the lighthouse.

An unexplainable peace shown on Grace’s face when His Spirit came upon her.

They kept singing.

“On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand.”

~*~

Water covered Frederick’s legs to his knees. He held Alyssa tight. He feared she might fall into the swirling waters and drown. In the time since they had arrived, the water’s depth had risen by at least three inches. He concentrated on taking deep breaths and releasing them. It was his only defense against the chilling fingers of claustrophobia closing like a vise around his neck. He had nowhere to go, neither up nor down. A hundred or more souls hung on iron rungs above him, and a dark watery grave pooled at his feet.

A deafening boom of thunder was only one of numerous noises triggered by the roaring cyclone. His eyes remained wide open even though he was enveloped by total darkness. Objects hit the tower walls. A loud thud…perhaps it was a cow or maybe even someone’s bed. Ping, ping, ping. Had it begun to hail? Or had some poor child lost his marbles? He feared he was losing his.

The next sound made him pull Alyssa’s head into his chest, covering her ears. The deep guttural sound of a man screaming seemed to go on forever. In a final, swelling crescendo, the body hit the outer wall with a sickening thump. The screams fell silent. Contempt boiled inside Frederick. “Where are You, God?”

A small hand curled around his thumb, and Alyssa pulled his hand to her chest. “Don’t worry, Mr. Fred. God is right here in my heart, and He’s going to protect us.”

Frederick leaned his head into Alyssa’s matted hair and kissed her. She reminded him so much of his two little sisters back home. Would they have been so strong faced with the same situation? Would he ever see them again? God, if You really are here, please spare all of these gathered in this strong tower. And God…save my Sarah.