The Lightkeepers

20

7. Peace Sunshine rippled through the screens of the porch. Birds chirped sweetly and swooped low.

I stretched out on a wicker lounger, a book laid long forgotten on my lap as I soaked in the subtle

smell of pine trees and clean northern air. My head was tilted back, my lips set in a lazy, yet

satisfied, smile. The air around me was cool, but the sun kissed the skin of my legs warmly, my

arms cast in shadow. It was absolutely perfect. I turned my head as I heard the familiar shuffle of

my grandfather ’ s feet. He sat in the chair next to mine, his root beer bottle clinking on the glass

tabletop between our seats. He smiled at me and shifted his attention to the world beyond the

screened-in deck. Somewhere out there, in the woods that surrounded his property, Dad and Henry

were out riding, Ellie and Mom were surely hiking, and Gramps and I were the only ones left here.

We didn ’ t say anything, but I continued to stare at his profile.

Just as water pulls at the sand, an unrecognizable force was tugging at me, drawing me

back to wherever. Gramps looked over at me, meeting my eyes for the first time that day, his gray

eyes pale and mournful.

“ Let go, Rae. ”

My body violently flinched. My legs completely lifted off the stone floor of the windowsill

before I turned over completely. Sweat clung to my face and dampened my hair. I sat up, blinking.

I could barely make out my own hand as I brought it to my face. Drawing back the curtain of the

window, I saw the waning moon, looking almost full but knowing that it had already passed. For

a moment, I thought I was completely alone until a warm hand gripped my clammy one and

squeezed hard.

I glanced down, then at the hand ’ s owner. Ellie stared at me curiously. Her lips began to

form words, but I shook my head, cutting her off. She nodded and let go, allowing me to shuffle

out of the niche and fly up the staircase.

My face was met with a welcomed blast of frigid air. I stretched my arms wide and

embraced the icy air before hugging myself tightly. I wiggled my toes, cursing myself for not

putting on shoes.

My father turned to me then, taking in my form. He grabbed the blanket from where it hung

on the railing we had built for the ladder and draped it over my shoulders. I could make out the

water, the moon ’ s reflection rippling on its surface. I ’ d always loved looking up at the stars, but

now it seemed bittersweet.