by Jean Fischer
Not far from the tower, nestled in a grove of trees, was a small lightkeeper’s house. It had a steep red roof and white paint. The place was a gift shop where tourists could buy everything from tee shirts to figurines. Its wide front porch was empty but for a pair of old, wooden rocking chairs that often rocked alone in the wind.
Bailey and Sydney sat in the chairs looking up at the tower. Bailey nervously sipped the root beer that she’d bought at a little post office and convenience store nearby.
“You have to at least try,” Sydney said.
“But I’m afraid of heights,” Bailey answered. “You know that, Syd. In fact, if I could have, I would have walked here from Peoria instead of taking a plane.” She swirled the root beer around in its plastic bottle.
“But you got on the airplane, and you got here in one piece,” Sydney pointed out. “The next step is to climb to the top of the lighthouse.”
Bailey glanced toward a short line of tourists waiting at the entrance. “How tall is it, anyway?”
“Not that tall,” Sydney answered. She wrapped a napkin around the bottom of her ice-cream cone and licked the melting vanilla custard as it dribbled down the sides.
“How tall?” Bailey asked again.
“What difference does it make?” said Sydney.
“How tall!” Bailey demanded.
“I think two hundred fourteen steps to the top!”
“That’s a lot.”
“The Statue of Liberty has three hundred fifty-four steps,” Sydney added. “You’re always saying you want to go to New York and climb the Statue of Liberty. Think of this as your training. Once you’ve climbed the lighthouse, Lady Liberty will be a piece of cake.”
“I dunno.” Bailey sighed.
“And what about the Eiffel Tower?” Sydney went on. “You want to go to Paris and climb the Eiffel Tower. You told me that. And the Eiffel Tower is a whole lot scarier than the Currituck Beach Lighthouse.”
“I guess so,” Bailey agreed.
By now, Sydney had finished eating her custard and chomped on the cone. “Come on, Bailey,” she said. “If you don’t face your fears, you’ll never climb the Statue of Liberty, or the Eiffel Tower either.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Bailey said. She gulped down the rest of her root beer, got up, and tossed the empty bottle into a trash can. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” Sydney answered.
“Let’s climb to the top of the lighthouse before I chicken out.”
The girls followed a curving brick path to the lighthouse entrance. A small, blue sign sat in front of the six concrete steps that led to the front door. It said: PLEASE WAIT HERE TO CLIMB. A family with three boys, all of them younger than Bailey and Sydney, stood waiting in line. The oldest one shoved his little brother and knocked him to the ground.
“Trevor!” his mother shouted. “Why did you push your brother?”
“He called me a name,” Trevor said.
“I did not!” said the little brother getting up and standing next to his mom. “I want to go home.”
“Behave!” said the dad.
Just then a gray-haired gentleman came from behind the lighthouse. He walked toward the family, looking as if he’d stepped off a page in a history book. He wore a blue captain’s cap, and his face was framed with a neat, gray beard. Although the weather was hot, he wore an old-fashioned blue wool officer’s coat with shiny brass buttons and a nametag that read CAPTAIN SWAIN.
As Sydney and Bailey watched, the captain stopped in front of the boys. He opened his left fist and showed them four silver coins. “Spanish doubloons,” he announced.
The boys gathered to see the treasure in the captain’s hand. “Is this your first trip to the Outer Banks?” the captain asked.
“Yeah.” The boys answered in unison.
“Then you don’t know about the pirates,” said the captain.
“What pirates?” Trevor asked. He grabbed Captain Swain’s hand and pulled it closer to get a better look at the coins.
The old man smiled and looked Trevor straight in the eyes. “Blackbeard,” he whispered.
Trevor stepped back.
“Blackbeard the pirate used to hide out on this very land,” the captain said mysteriously. “He and his crew attacked ships at sea, robbed them, and brought their treasures back here to the Outer Banks. And these coins, my little friends, are some of the treasure that Blackbeard stole.”
The boys’ eyes grew big. They were so busy studying the doubloons that they didn’t even notice when a group of visitors left the lighthouse.
“You’re up next,” Captain Swain told the family. “And when you get to the top, look out in the ocean as far as you can see. Maybe you’ll spy Blackbeard’s ship.”
“Blackbeard doesn’t exist,” the older boy said. “He died a long time ago, and your coins are probably fakes.”
“Trevor!” his mother scolded.
“Now, would I tell a tale?” said the captain. “Sure Blackbeard’s dead, but some say his ghost haunts the sea while he and his crew sail on their ghost ship. You know about the ghost ships, don’t you?”
The boys shook their heads.
“Then visit the museum down in Hatteras,” the captain replied. “Graveyard of the Atlantic, it’s called. They’ll tell you all about Blackbeard and the ghost ships. You’ll find a brochure inside.” He pointed to the front door. Then, as the family disappeared into the entrance, Captain Swain turned to the girls. “Aren’t you going with your family?” he asked.
“Oh, we’re not with them,” Sydney replied. “We’re next in line.”
The captain looked surprised. “How old are you young ladies?”
“Thirteen,” said Sydney. She noticed the captain’s sparkling, blue eyes.
“I’m nine,” Bailey announced.
“Oh dear,” said the captain. “Young people thirteen and under have to be accompanied by an adult. I’m afraid you won’t be able to climb the lighthouse.”
Bailey breathed a sigh of relief.
“But I’m from here!” Sydney protested. “Well, I’m not actually from here, but my grandparents have a beach house in Corolla Light. I visit them every year.”
“Ah, the resort community,” said the captain. He shook his head sadly. “I rarely get there. It’s too crowded, and there’s far too much traffic is on the highway. This is the real Corolla, you know. This tiny village was here long before Corolla Light or any of the other subdivisions.”
“I know,” said Sydney, “but can’t we please climb the lighthouse? My friend Bailey is trying to overcome her fear of heights.”
The captain winked at Bailey. “So, you’re afraid of heights, are you? Well, we need to do something about that. The view from the top is outstanding. On one side there’s the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side Currituck Sound.”
Bailey’s heart sank. She didn’t really want to climb to the top of the lighthouse no matter how beautiful the view.
Captain Swain scratched his beard.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll take you to the top. And, Bailey, you’ll be fine. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all.” He looked up at the tower, and Sydney noticed his mouth curl into a wistful smile.
Suddenly, the front door burst open. Trevor’s little brother scuttled out with his father close behind. “I am not being difficult,” the boy shouted. “I don’t want to climb those curvy steps. They’re scary!”
His mother and brothers came out, too.
“Chicken!” Trevor taunted. He stood with his hands on his hips. “I wanted to go to the top, and now you’ve wrecked everything!”
“Let’s go,” said Trevor’s dad. “I’ve had enough of this.”
The mother grabbed the smallest boy’s hand, and the family rushed to the parking lot.
“When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous but terror to evildoers,” said Captain Swain.
“What?” Sydney asked.
“Nothing,”
replied the captain. “Just God and me talking out loud. Looks like it’s our turn to climb.”
When they went inside, Bailey noticed how cool and stuffy the lighthouse felt. An ancient, brick wall circled them, and the narrow space smelled old. Sunlight streamed through several tall, narrow windows up high. In the center was a green, spiral staircase that reminded Bailey of a loosely coiled snake. Its metal stairs went up and up. When Bailey looked to where they led, she felt dizzy. She hesitated, afraid to take the first step.
Captain Swain seemed to know how she felt. “‘I can do all things through Him who strengthens me,’” he said.
Sydney gave him a quizzical look.
“Just God and me talking again,” the captain announced.
Sydney knew that Bible verse from camp. It had given her courage when she was afraid.
“I want you to go first, Bailey,” said the captain. “Your friend here—what’s your name?” he asked, turning to Sydney.
“Sydney Lincoln,” Sydney replied.
“Sydney Lincoln and I will be right behind you. We’ll take very good care of you all the way. There’s nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. I climbed these stairs a lot—back in the day.”
The captain’s voice echoed inside the tower. It seemed to drift all the way to the top and then disappear.
“I’ll watch every step you take,” Sydney told her. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”
Tentatively, Bailey put her right foot on the bottom step. She looked down to make sure that her shoes were tied. She didn’t need to trip over any loose laces. Then she breathed deeply and whispered, “‘I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.’”
She put her left foot on the first step, and then Bailey Chang was on her way. She was ready to conquer her fear of heights and tackle all 214 steps. “One. Two. Three. Four.” She counted each step unwaveringly, bravely marching upward. But then, she made the mistake of looking down. The stairs weren’t solid. They had holes, like Swiss cheese, and when Bailey looked down at the fifty or so stairs she’d already climbed, she felt sick to her stomach. She stopped and Sydney almost tripped over her.
“Bailey! What?” Sydney wondered.
“I can’t,” Bailey whispered. “I’m afraid.”
“Just move!” said Sydney. “This staircase is only wide enough for one person, and right now you’ve got us stuck here.”
Bailey gripped the railings with both hands. Her feet wouldn’t move. She was afraid to look up and afraid to look down. Her mind drifted to a strange place where she imagined she was the main character in a ghost story. She was stuck forever on that one step, an eerie mist that visitors sensed as they climbed to the top. Bailey Chang, Ghost of the Currituck Beach Lighthouse.
“Bailey.” The captain’s calm voice startled her. She grasped the railings even tighter. “I’m right here with you,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you. We’re on our way now. You can do it. Just keep telling yourself that.”
Bailey’s heart slammed in her chest. Her mouth felt like sandpaper. She couldn’t speak.
“Just one step, Bailey,” said the captain. “Take one more step.”
Bailey’s feet moved up to the next step, whether she wanted them to or not.
“That’s good,” said the captain. “Now, one more.”
Bailey felt Sydney close behind her. She decided if she fell backward onto her friend, and Sydney fell, too, the captain was strong enough to catch them both. So Bailey took the next step, and the next, and she kept going.
Whenever she got to a landing and one of the tall, narrow windows, Bailey avoided looking out. She wouldn’t look down or up either. She just concentrated on one step at a time.
“‘I can do all things through Him who strengthens me,’” she murmured.
As she climbed the last steps, Bailey noticed a small landing and an old wooden door that stood wide open. She couldn’t see where it led, but from where she stood Bailey caught a glimpse of blue sky and puffy, white clouds on the other side of it. She took the last step to the top and then turned away refusing to look beyond the door.
“You did it!” Sydney exclaimed. She stepped onto the landing and hugged her friend, but Bailey stood frozen.
“I’m not going out there,” Bailey said. “I don’t even want to see.”
The captain stood between Bailey and the door. “It’s your decision,” he said. “But someday you might regret that you didn’t. You might be sorry that fear got in your way.”
Bailey swallowed hard.
“Come on, Bailey,” Sydney coaxed. “Do you want to be an old lady telling your grandkids how scared you were? What kind of an example will that set?”
Bailey turned around. Beyond the captain’s broad shoulders, she saw nothing but sky and clouds. Then, slowly, Captain Swain stepped aside. Bailey suddenly saw the tops of trees and in the distance, the Atlantic Ocean. She felt like she was back in the airplane flying over North Carolina. But this time, if she chose to, she could step outside onto a narrow, open platform that was rimmed by a thick, iron railing.
The captain stepped outside. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said. “Sydney Lincoln, would you like to join me out here?”
Sydney’s heart did a little flutter. She would never admit that she was scared, too. She had never climbed to the top of the lighthouse, and it was higher than she had imagined. Still, she wouldn’t make Bailey more afraid than she already was.
Bravely, Sydney stepped through the door. She leaned against the captain and felt his strong arm holding her steady.
“It’s not so bad, Bailey,” she said, holding onto the railing. “Come on, we’ll help you.”
The captain held out his hand.
The image of herself as an old woman flashed through Bailey’s mind. She heard herself say, “When I was little, I almost went out that door.”
Bailey took the captain’s hand, and then nothing stood between her and the world but the black, iron railing. Her stomach churned, but she inched along the lookout with her friends. They rounded the bend. Now, instead of seeing the ocean, they could see the sound—the strip of water between the Outer Banks’ island and the shore of North Carolina.
“I knew you could do it, Bailey,” said Sydney. “I watched you all the way, and you were really brave. I’m glad I convinced you to do it.”
Bailey grabbed Sydney’s arm. “Syd,” she said. “Where’d the captain go? He was right behind me.”
Captain Swain was gone! Just as if he had vanished into thin air!
A Mysterious Mug
“That’s odd,” said Sydney. “Where is he?”
A strong wind swept across the lighthouse. Sydney noticed Bailey’s fingers gripping the railing. She grabbed Bailey’s hand, and they carefully walked back to the door. When they got there, a lady whose name tag read MEGHAN was waiting.
“I was wondering if anyone was up here,” she said. “I’m closing the lighthouse now. Storms are coming, and it’s not safe up here when there’s lightning.”
The woman led the girls down the curving staircase. It was scarier going down than up because Sydney and Bailey had no choice but to look at their feet and imagine how far they’d fall if they tripped.
To keep her mind off it, Bailey began to talk—she tended to talk a lot whenever she got nervous. “So, do you like working in a lighthouse?” she asked.
“It’s fascinating!” Meghan answered. “It’s fascinating to go up to the top and see how the ocean changes every day.”
“I live like two-and-a-half hours from Lake Michigan,” Bailey told her. “And we go there in the summer to the beach and I think the lake looks a lot like the ocean, only it’s not as big, and we have perch and trout instead of sharks and jellyfish.”
She gulped a breath and went on. “Lake Michigan has fresh water and, of course, the ocean has salt water. This is the first time I’ve climbed a lighthouse. I’m afraid of heights, you know, but I climbed to the top—”
> Sydney interrupted her. “Did you see Captain Swain come down the stairs?”
“Captain Swain? No,” said Meghan. “Why?”
“He took us up to the lookout but disappeared. We didn’t see him leave. We were wondering where he went.” They were almost to the bottom of the stairs now, and Sydney sighed with relief.
“When was this?” the woman asked.
“Just a few minutes ago,” said Sydney.
“I didn’t see him come downstairs,” Meghan replied as they reached the main floor. “As far as that goes, I didn’t see him go up either. I must not have been paying attention.”
“You weren’t here,” said Sydney. “When we came in, no one was around.”
“That’s odd,” said Meghan. “I’ve been here for the past hour or so. I don’t know how you got by without me seeing you, unless I was in my office. Did you say this was your first lighthouse visit?”
“It is,” Bailey answered. “I’m visiting from Peoria. That’s in Illinois.”
“You know what?” said the lady. “I have something for you.” She went to a desk in a little room nearby and picked up two small cardboard folders. “These are lighthouse passports,” she said. She gave one to each of the girls. “You can visit lighthouses all over America and get stickers to put in your passport book. There’s already a sticker from this lighthouse inside.”
“Wow!” said Bailey. “I’m going to visit every lighthouse and collect all the stickers.”
“If you do that, come back here and show me your passport. I’ll buy you a cheeseburger,” said Meghan.
“It might take me awhile to get them all,” Bailey responded.
“Like, years!” Sydney added.
The woman smiled. “I imagine I’ll be here.”
After the girls left the lighthouse, Sydney pointed at two girls on the other side of Schoolhouse Lane. They were eating ice cream by the Corolla Village Bar-B-Q. “Come on,” she told Bailey. “I want you to meet my friends.” She led Bailey to a picnic table where the girls were sitting outside the restaurant. “Hi, Carolyn. Hi, Marilyn,” said Sydney.