The Keeper of the Light

Chapter 1

     Charlie dug the last letter she had received from her purse. It contained the instructions on how to get to the island, which boat she was to take, the name of the captain but it failed to say what she was supposed to once she got there or who she was supposed to contact. She noticed a large burly woman marching steadily towards her. The woman continued past her marching straight to the boat captain. He seemed to acknowledge her authority and stopped directing the crew to speak with her. After exchanging a few hushed words, the stout woman turned and looked at Charlie with a confused expression. She practically dismissed the man with a wave of her hand and made her way to stand in front of Charlie.

     "Are you Charlie Jenkins? ", the woman began. Charlie smiled warmly, "Yes ma'am, I am here for the lighthouse position".
     The woman's brows furrowed. "You are certainly not who we were expecting. Charlie is a man's name. And do not call me ma'am. Well, no matter, you are here and we don't have any more time. Jeremiah is due back on the boat day after tomorrow. Come along, I will take you to get settled in." She turned on her heels and threw back, "By the way, I'm Gladys"
     Charlie was stood still for a moment and remembered her bags. "What about my luggage?" "Leave 'em, they will be brought to the cottage in a bit.", Gladys yelled back over her shoulder.
     And with that, Charlie took one last look at the boat and her bags and hurried off to follow Gladys into town.

     Gladys led Charlie down what she surmised to be the main road in town. Gladys started pointing to colorful buildings and throwing out names that Charlie was sure she wouldn't remember.  The buildings were different shades of the primary colors. They were trimmed in white and seemed very clean for such a small island in the middle of nowhere. Charlie felt like she was in a dream until Gladys started her drill sergeant rundown of the street.  There was a fish market ran by brothers, Thomas and Terrance, a trading post, which was a grocery store by St. Clare's patrons ran by Gladys and her husband George,  the post office was overseen by Mrs Geraldine Johnson, whose husband was one of the deckhands on the fishing boat that docked here and a ramshackle saloon that seemed to double as a cafe of sorts. Charlie heard Gladys mumble the word Anne and several other names that she didn't catch. It was obvious that Gladys was not a fan of the saloon. Her town lightened just a bit as she mentioned the cafe but there was still definite hostility in the air. Small little cottages, that were well kept, and just as colorful as the store fronts, lined the roads that branched off the main road. Gladys continued through town and set out on a winding dirt road. Charlie could see the tip top of the lighthouse so she assumed Gladys meant to get her started right away.

     They had traveled what seemed like several miles. Charlie was still trailing  behind Gladys as they topped a hill and the lighthouse came into full view. It was picturesque. The lighthouse was sitting near the cliffs that she had seen from the boat. Next to it was the small cottage that was most likely to be her living quarters. It was adorable at first glance. Rose bushes adorned the small white picket fence that surrounded the cottage. There was smoke wafting from the tiny chimney on the roof. She was glad for that. The ocean breeze had given her a slight chill so she was welcoming the warmth she would most certainly feel inside.

     Gladys stopped at the front gate to wait for Charlie to catch up. "This is where you'll be livin'. It's not much but I have always liked it", Gladys finally spoke. It was the first thing she had said since they had left the docks. Charlie jumped at the sound of her voice. She had already lost herself in the surrounding beauty of her new abode and she hadn't even gotten through the gate. Inside the fence there was a small garden with tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce and an assortment of other vegetables. Charlie liked the idea of fresh salads for meals.

     The front of the cottage was partially covered in honeysuckle vines which gave off a sweet aroma. Honeysuckle was a favorite scent, it reminded her of her mother. The cottage door was a heavy wooden door that had been painted red. The cottage walls were white with paned windows and what looked like functional shutters. They were definitely not what she was used to seeing back home in the city. This was something most people only ever saw in the movies or magazines. She had to pinch herself to be sure she wasn't dreaming.