Town in a Lobster Stew

Forty

What happened next was so surreal Candy found herself barely believing it. After a quick look around the area to make sure they were alone, Roger marched them to the Keeper’s Quarters, but first he told Bob to lock up the maintenance shed. “We don’t want anyone getting suspicious about doors that are open when they shouldn’t be, right, Bob?”

He held the gun on them as Bob unlocked the door to the Keeper’s Quarters and relocked it once they were inside. “We don’t want any interruptions, do we?” Roger said mockingly.

The museum’s main display area was dimly lit, and Candy thought if they had any chance of rushing Roger, it would be now. She tried to catch Bob’s eye, but he looked too stunned to be of any help. Candy twisted her head, ready to spring — but Roger was watching her, with the gun aimed toward her.

“Keep moving,” he said, making sure he stayed several paces behind them. “That way.” He pointed with the gun toward the hallway behind the wooden counter, and the locked door that led to the tower. “We’ll need your keys one more time,” Roger said.

Bob looked at him, a worried expression on his face. “We shouldn’t be going up there. Visibility’s not very good and — ”

“We’re not going up there to sightsee, Bob. Open the door.”

For a few moments, Candy thought Bob might make a move. But this was no Bruce Willis movie. They weren’t heroes or movie stars. They were just a couple of folks from a small town in Maine, trying to stay alive.

Bob opened the door.

“Hold on just a moment,” Roger said from behind them. When Candy turned, she saw Roger standing by the long counter. He had the ledger open and was flipping back through it, his eyes searching. He soon found what he was looking for, tore out several pages, and read through them, scanning the lines James Sedley had written decades ago. When he had finished, he folded the pages over and tucked them into a jacket pocket.

He tossed the ledger onto the counter. “Okay, let’s get going.”

Candy had never been in the tower before, and it was thrilling in more ways than one. It was dark and silent inside, a great echoing cone looming above them. Underneath her feet was a black and white tile floor, worn with age but well kept. A glass-enclosed sign attached to a gray-painted wall informed her that nearly a million bricks had been used to build the tower. On her left were the first steps of an iron staircase, painted black and ornately decorated, twisting upward.

Her head craned back. It was like looking at the inside of a spiraling seashell, only this was one she could stand in.

“Up,” Roger instructed.

“But it’s dark up there. We’ll trip on the steps.”

“Up!” Roger ordered again, this time in a threatening tone.

Bob held up a hand. “Wait.” He crossed the tower’s circular floor to the opposite wall and moved toward a panel hidden under the staircase. Roger called out to him, brandishing the gun, but Bob just pointed toward the panel. “Lights,” he said.

Roger seemed to finally understand. He nodded curtly. Bob opened up the panel cover and flipped several switches.

The tower’s inside was suddenly illuminated, glowing with a soft yellow color, looking much as it must have a hundred years earlier, when the lightkeepers in their dark blue wool uniforms climbed these steps with gas lanterns in their hands.

As Bob came around the foot of the steps, he let out a long breath. “There are one hundred and seventy-four steps to the top, just so you know. Six landings — twenty-nine steps in each section.” And he started up.

Candy followed.

She held tightly to the railing as she climbed the thick metal stairs, which were bolted to a winding frame. They reached the first landing and continued on, moving steadily upward. As she climbed, Candy found herself growing a little dizzy, and her thighs started to feel the stress. I bet those old lightkeepers never needed to head to the gym, she thought idly. This was enough of a workout to keep anyone in shape.

At the third landing, they saw a small alcove, where a tall, narrow window looked out over the ocean. On a clear day, she imagined, the view from here would be magnificent. But today she stared out at a patchy seascape of mostly gray colors, although spots of blues and whites peeked through.

“Keep moving,” Roger said, standing several steps behind her.

She nodded and started up again.

She could hear Bob wheezing above her now, and even Roger was breathing heavily. Candy tried as best she could to control her own breathing. She didn’t want to become too winded or light-headed. She might need her wits once they reached the top.

On the fifth landing, Bob stopped to catch his breath, and Candy came up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He glanced back at her and nodded. “I climb this tower a dozen times a month. I’m used to it.”

“Enough talking,” Roger said, coming up behind them. “Get going.”

At the sixth landing, Candy saw several old waist-high wooden cabinets with locks on them. “This is the service landing,” Bob told her. “This is where the old lightkeepers used to keep their log books, as well as tools and mineral oil when the light was still an actual flame. They used to haul up the five-gallon cans of oil using a pulley system.” He pointed at the ceiling, where Candy saw a large iron hook. “The light’s right above our heads,” Bob said, nodding at the ceiling. With his head he indicated a nearby hatch in the circular wall. “And that’s the way out onto the watch deck.”

Roger climbed the last few steps behind them and motioned toward the hatch. “That’s where we’re going.”

“Outside?” Candy asked, incredulous. “But...”

Roger pushed on the hatch’s handle, but the door didn’t open. He swung the gun toward Bob. “Unlock it.”

Bob stood motionless for a few moments. It was clear he was again running various scenarios through his head. But it was also obvious he had no plan for escape. He shrugged and walked to the hatch, pulling out his keys once more. He unlocked the hatch, pushed on the handle, and opened the door.

“Out,” Roger ordered.

With a last look at Candy, Bob stepped out onto the iron walkway that encircled the top of the tower, just underneath the light.

Roger turned toward Candy. “You too.”

Candy gulped. She had a deep dread of where this was all headed. “What are you planning to do, Roger?”

“I told you. I have to tie up some loose ends. Now move.”

Candy hesitated as Bob had, but then she too stepped toward the hatch, and passed through to the outside.