by Lee Perry
“I think so…” Jordan answered, opening the door.
“Good, I like fireplaces…” She signed the last haltingly, a sudden image of sitting with Chelsea in front of their roaring fireplace with marshmallows on barbeque skewers filling her mind’s eye.
Jordan took quiet note of the hesitancy and followed her out the door, locking it behind them. She traded the key ring for the radio in her coat pocket, “Wallace?” she called as they walked, waiting for him to answer.
“Wallace.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you, I kinda’ got caught up in breakfast.”
“No biggie,” he assured her, “I just wanted to let you know the storm is supposed to blow in late tonight, but from what we’ve noticed around here, if they’re of a decent size they can arrive well ahead of schedule. So you should plan on battening down the hatches by this afternoon…” He briefly took his thumb off the mic then keyed it again, “And you two are on your own for dinner tonight.”
“So…” Jordan gave Catherine a look, “that means Tappert won’t be cooking for us?”
“Yeah,” Wallace answered, “that’s how bad the storms can get around here, once the wind kicks up stormy weather we do not go outside, and I strongly suggest that once this one blows in, you two don’t venture outdoors either.”
“Okay, thanks Wally.” Jordan stuffed the radio back in her pocket and looked down at Catherine, “Especially you,” she gave her a small smile, “you tiny quarter-pounder.”
Catherine only snorted, elbowing her good-naturedly as they walked along the narrow asphalt road. They followed it along the top of the immense rock, and as soon as they began walking downhill and could see the lighthouse Catherine signed, “Why did they build it way down there?”
“It’s about a hundred feet lower than the residences… apparently it has to be closer to sea level for ships to see the light in the fog.” A sudden gust of wind blew both women off balance and Catherine grabbed Jordan's arm. “Jeez!” Jordan shouted. “Maybe you’d better hold on to me… I know the six inches I’ve got on you make me less aerodynamic but I should still be good for ballast.”
Catherine linked her arm in Jordan’s and signed, “Sounds good to me… thanks.”
Jordan tightened her arm, briefly placing her hand over Catherine’s, “I don’t know how they managed to raise kids here without having them blow away like their chickens.”
“Maybe they kept them tied down too.” Jordan chuckled and she added, “Or maybe they put rocks in their pockets.”
They continued in companionable silence until they arrived at the stone edifice and Jordan took out her key ring again. She opened the door and they stepped inside. “Well,” she closed the door behind them, “that’s straightforward enough, isn’t it?” A white metal circular staircase stood in the middle of the room, rising straight up and into the lantern room on the fourth level. Both fell silent as they read the museum placards describing the history of the Fresnel lens and how it was lit. “It’s kind of a bummer the lens isn’t here anymore.” Jordan murmured.
Catherine tapped her finger on one of the placards describing how glass prisms were embedded in the ceiling to reflect additional light into the room, “It says they’re upstairs…”
“Shall we?” Jordan motioned to the stairs and both began the long climb to the lantern room. They craned their necks, squinting up at the metal ceiling that acted as the lantern room’s floor. “There…” Jordan pointed at what looked like large diamonds embedded in the metal flooring. “Now that’s both beautiful and amazing.”
“That’s a very smart way to get extra light when you have yet to access electricity and don’t want to use oil lamps during the day…” Catherine craned her neck to peer closely at the prisms, “The physics of reflection always interested me in school.”
They continued their climb to the lantern room level and Jordan stuffed her hands in her pockets, regarding the modern beacon and shook her head, “That is one big light.”
The lighthouse had four different light sources in its long history ranging from whale oil to kerosene. The original four thousand pound Fresnel lens had been moved to a maritime museum in Monterey in 1978 when it was replaced by a modern aero beacon, its strobe capable of emitting a beam of light that could be seen more than twenty miles away.
Catherine stood close to Jordan in the cramped quarters, “I guess it would have to be to be seen so far away.”
Jordan nodded, turning to regard the view, “Well, we see this view all the time now, how about if we check it out from the balcony too?”
They descended the circular staircase, stopping on the next level and Jordan unlocked the heavy metal door. It blew open and Catherine grabbed at Jordan’s coat as she grabbed for the door.
“Well,” Jordan laughed, “that was surprising.” They stepped outside and stood at the railing, both lost in thought.
“It’s beautiful…” Catherine signed, “but when this is all you see, year after year…” she shrugged, “looking into infinity day after day must be either wondrous or…”
“I think a lot of it must depend on who you’re here with.” Jordan conceded, “I’d think it would be really miserable if they weren’t doing well in their relationships…” Her voice trailed off; acutely aware she had wandered into a sensitive area. “From what I read online, historians have said there were a lot of extramarital affairs going on here… I guess it would have been more than tempting when you had four families living here year in and year out.” Catherine only nodded. “Come on,” she inclined her head to the door, “let’s go back in.”
Jordan pushed the heavy door shut and locked it and they started back down the stairs. On the next level, Catherine stopped at a tall, arched window and sat on the sill, “Why did you choose this place?”
Jordan’s brows arched, surprised it had taken her so long to ask. “Well,” she sat on the sill, facing her, “when I scanned the list of available safe sites this one just…” She gestured one-handed, shrugging, “it just sort of leapt out at me from the page… I guess. From a security standpoint it’s a no-brainer, Catherine, it’s easily defensible, simple to monitor, it’s obviously remote, there’s no contact with the public at all… And I swear to god,” She added emphatically, “it never occurred to me the wind might be an issue here and you would have had to go for walks around this rock with Cameron tied to you for safety.” Catherine’s smile was wistful yet still radiant at the mention of her son’s name and Jordan smiled back, “Lighthouses represent safety to souls lost at sea and they… light the way to safe harbor.” She leaned back against the stone archway, “I honestly thought this would be a good place for you and Alex to reconnect… and start fresh…” Her voice soft, she continued, “Life, as you and I already know, can be short; sometimes relationships need to be confronted… re-evaluated so you can decide whether to move on together, or apart.”
Catherine looked from her out to sea and she added, “I wanted you to have that chance… I wanted you to have the time to decide what you wanted… without distraction.” Catherine looked back into her eyes and Jordan gave her a small smile, “Think about it;” she nodded toward the sea, “lighthouses are beacons of hope to the lost but they also represent threshold experiences, illuminating the difference between land and sea, safety and danger.”
Catherine’s eyes had begun to brim with tears and nodded. Blinking furiously and sniffing, she gently cleared the lump from her throat.
“You didn’t ask for any of this,” Jordan said gently, “you didn’t deserve this; you were just living your happy home life, day to day… but thanks to some very bad choices Alex made it came to a sudden, crashing, violent end… Your life will never be the same, but it doesn’t mean it can’t ever be good again… And it has to be, Catherine, Chelsea would want that for you and Cameron.” She sighed, staring out the window, “But here you are, standing on the threshold, still waiting… I thought you’d come here and be able to use the time to reconst
ruct your life and plan a new future…” she turned apologetic eyes to her, “You’re still standing on the threshold, and I’m just sorry I couldn’t bring Cameron to you, and everything else you need to help you move forward.”
“Thank you, Jordan.” Catherine gave her a watery smile and took Jordan’s hand in her own, squeezing firmly. “I know he’ll be found and you’ll bring him back to me.”
Jordan gave her a small sad smile, nothing she could say was ever going to be enough and she looked down at the small elegant hand that held hers.
When Catherine let go she asked, “Have you always been so philosophical?” She drew a deep, clearing breath, “I know you already know a great deal about me, I think it should be your turn now to tell me about yourself.”
“Oh, well…” Jordan gave her a lopsided grin, “I suppose that’s fair.” She looked out to sea again, “I was born and raised in Rochester, New York. Now,” She smoothed errant strands of hair from her face and absently adjusted her ponytail, “you have to understand my parents chose to live in Rochester because it literally has the largest deaf population per capita in the United States.” Catherine’s brows arched in surprise and Jordan nodded, “Oh yes, and nearly everything there is deaf accessible.” She snorted, shrugging one-sidedly, “That being said, as it happens with most hearing children born to deaf parents, or it used to be anyway, that the eldest hearing child would become the official connection to the outside, hearing world. The ears and voice, if you will; that was me. My parents had a second child, my brother, Eric, who is two years younger. He’s a teacher…” her voice faded and she sighed.
“Are you close with them?”
“Well…” Jordan licked her lips, briefly pressing them together before she continued, “we were close…” When she looked out to sea again her eyes looked unfocused, as though she looked at something other than the blue ocean beyond the glass, “We were, right until the moment I told them I’d been accepted to the FBI training academy at Quantico.”
“They expected you to stay at home?”
“Oh yes.” She nodded, “And I guess I knew that, but I had a hard enough time in high school… figuring out and accepting who I was and what I wanted to do when I got out… I didn’t have the words at the time, but I wanted to be more than just my parent’s translator for the furnace repair guy. In high school I took an aptitude test and tested high on law enforcement.” Her brows bounced slyly, “To be honest, I always had fantasies of being an FBI agent growing up. Anyway, one of the counselors took pity on me, I guess… She really helped me to get into a college so I could pursue a bachelor’s in administration of justice…” She shrugged, “I think my parents thought I’d have a little fun in college then get a secretary job for the local police department or something.”
“Wow,” Catherine looked shocked, “that sounds sexist.”
Jordan chuckled, “Well, there are those in that culture that are stuck in a kind of time warp… They were old school enough to have planned in their heads for my brother to have his own life; go to college, have a family, but me… they simply assumed I would stay at home and continue to be their ears and voice.”
“But you applied to the FBI?”
“As I was graduating,” Jordan nodded, “yes. I got in, and they said they were proud of me… but, they made it clear it wasn’t what they wanted.”
The corners of Catherine’s eyes crinkled sympathetically at the corners, “I’m so sorry, Jordan.”
She snorted and shook her head dismissively, “It’s okay, we all survived; I became an FBI agent, my brother went to college, became a teacher, got married and has a family now. My parents sort of rediscovered their youth, I think.” She gave her a conspiratorial smile, “Sometimes the empty-nest thing can be rejuvenating and they kinda’ returned to their old college days when they were becoming accountants and remembered they could navigate the hearing world just fine on their own.”
“But you’re still not close...”
Jordan was aware it was a statement and not a question, “No, we’re not. While they got over the FBI thing they had a harder time when I told them I was gay.” Catherine’s brows arched high and Jordan shrugged, “Well, the deaf community has always been a closed one, frankly… Having a daughter that was an FBI agent, that was acceptable, but having a lesbian for a daughter… that was something they just could not accept so…” She looked away again, out at the sea, “So we exchange Christmas cards and birthday cards…” Jordan stopped talking and shrugged again, not mentioning that the cards always wished her a merry Christmas or happy birthday but never included an invitation home.
Catherine waved for her attention, “You probably already know this, but my father left home when I was growing up… I always believed it was because he knew I was gay.” She exhaled heavily, “But my mother knew and didn’t care… she loved me anyway, she was proud of me and she always made sure I knew that, right up until the day she died.” Her hands hesitated midair while she debated whether she should continue. “I wish you’d had the same, Jordan…” She enunciated her signs carefully, “You deserved that.”
“Thanks,” Jordan gave a small grin, “I appreciate it.” She stood, “Come on, let’s go back.”
They left the lighthouse, careful to lock the door behind them, and as they slowly headed back to the head keeper’s house, Jordan silently delighted that Catherine did not hesitate to link arms with her again as they walked back.
Darien, CT
The boxes had been stacked on the small dining table and Alex unpacked first the modem and all its component parts before she unpacked the new laptop. She began connecting cables, not needing the instructions to set up the modem and made sure it was receiving a DSL signal before connecting it to the laptop. Her hands hesitated over the keys when it opened to the registration page and instead of entering her own name and personal information she entered Louis Carna, and entered an old address from her childhood. While the screen on the new computer asked for her patience while the set up files initiated, Alex slumped back in her seat and regarded the shining device.
This is an Elitebook… she mused silently, impressed, this had to have set him back at least seven thousand dollars. Alex waited patiently while the laptop configured, her gaze eventually drifting out the window to startlingly blue skies contrasting starkly above sweeping winter white that covered the ground and bare trees. I suppose I should assume he gets DSL in a package with his landline… I’ll need to upgrade to a router and encrypt it so everyone’s devices here are on the same, cloaked page.
As soon as she was online she created a free email account for Louise Carna on yahoo then went directly to her favorite shopping sites. By the time Rose knocked on her door asking if she wanted lunch brought to her room she had ordered more than ten thousand dollars worth of clothes and shoes, all set to arrive via overnight delivery. If you can drop that much on a laptop without batting an eye, Mister Carna… she snorted softly in amusement, then I guess you’ll never notice this bill. She could feel a prickly heat suddenly creep up the back of her neck and she gripped the carved arms of the straight back chair. This man expects you to plug in your flash drive and start writing programs that will make him rich… rich by stealing from people remotely.
There was a knock on the door and despite Rose telling her one of “the boys” would be bringing her meals, a young woman dressed in a maid’s uniform brought in her lunch tray. Alex thanked her and watched as she placed the tray on the table and left, closing the door noiselessly behind her. She sat on the chair opposite the one she’d been sitting on all morning and unrolled the silverware from the cloth napkin. There was ravioli, a side dish of steamed carrots and an apple tart. A can of diet soda stood next to a tall glass with ice cubes and Alex realized, with surprise, that her mouth was watering. Jesus, that smells good.
She ate her entire lunch in appreciative silence, savoring the meal as she made a mental list of what she still needed to order online, Make-up, hair products�
� curlers… I’ll stock up on shampoo… toothpaste, fluoride rinse… a waterpik…
It wasn’t until she had finished ordering everything on her massive shopping list that she found herself on the yahoo homepage. Her eyes scanned the news stories as the slideshow clicked past and from the corner of her eye, she saw the words; murdered FBI agents, under the trending news section. Suddenly nauseated, she clicked on the link that connected her to a news video. She lowered the volume and listened as a familiar newscaster reported:
“The FBI is still in shock over the murder of five of its agents, the worst in its history. All were part of a protective detail for a woman, Alexandra Sparrow, and her two-year-old son. Members of an organized crime family headed by crime boss Anthony Rossi killed all five agents in a hail of bullets from assault rifles. All were killed in the woman’s front yard in Marlboro, New Jersey. The case is a mystery; the FBI and local authorities are currently on the lookout for Alex Sparrow and her young son. Alex Sparrow, it turns out, is being sought in connection with the shooting that resulted in the death of her wife, Cathy Sparrow, and murder of their four-year old daughter, Chelsea Sparrow. The FBI is encouraging anyone who may have information about this tragic, baffling case, to contact their tip line…”
She swallowed convulsively against the bile that filled her throat and with shaking hands, closed the laptop when the picture on her driver’s license filled the screen.
Point Sur, CA
Lightning flashed in the window and both Jordan and Catherine jumped slightly when a loud clap of thunder shook the stone house, “Wow!” Catherine signed expressively, “That sounded like it was right over us!”
“I’ll say…” Jordan was interrupted by the radio,
“Hawks?”
Jordan grabbed it from the kitchen table, “Tappert, should we be using these things while the storm is right over our heads?”