Rocky Island Read Free Page B

with Allison to bring in the almost dry wash, and then headed for the lighthouse. First, he started the big diesel, and set the switch that turned on the generator. When he had climbed the five flights of stairs to the lighthouse cab, he could see that the visibility was markedly down, confirming his ground level observation, so he turned on the light which immediately began its 360 degrees a minute turn, humming in its track as it moved. The red beacon on top of the light casing flashed its Rocky Island identification in Morse code: dot dash dot, followed by two more dots was confusing because of the steady stream of flashing short red “blinks”, but RI was what had been assigned and that’s what the light flashed.
    Before he left the lighthouse after a half hour of making sure that everything was working properly, Toby noticed that not only had the rain become a downpour but that the wind had also freshened considerably. The blow was driving in from the east, making the rain slant from that direction as well. The gauge from the anemometer on top of the lighthouse told him that the wind speed was already gusting to sixty knots. He could see that even the scrub evergreen trees were whipping in the ever increasing wind, trees that managed to survive on the sparse ground covering the island. When he had left the house, a few hundred yards away, he had not put on his slicker and boots or his souwester, so by the time he got back indoors, he was soaked through to his skin. He stopped inside the door in the small entry hall and began to strip off his wet clothing. Allison came to the kitchen door and looked at him.
    “You cold?”
    “Bethcha’ life I am. Got some coffee?”
    “Yup, and something better, too.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Me.”
    “I’ll have some of both.”
    They stayed in bed, their occupation with each other so strong that the sound of the ferocious storm beating against the other side of their bedroom wall hardly penetrated their conscious thoughts, until well past six o’clock. Even after five years their mutual ardour had not cooled a bit and living on an otherwise uninhabited island had given them both room and time to make totally uninhibited love whenever and wherever they liked, indoors or out.
    At one point on this particular afternoon, Allison murmured in his ear, “How many times do you think we’ve done this?”
    “Who’s counting? Probably getting close to a thousand.”
    “Well let’s make it a thousand and one while we’re at it.”
    They did. In fact they reached a thousand and three.
    When they finally got out of bed, the wind had risen to the point where the house was reacting to the strong gusts of wind, the rain blasting against the east side along with the wind. Toby automatically went to the window to check the light to make sure it was working as it should be. Reassured, he turned to his wife who was standing at the kitchen counter wearing nothing but her housecoat, looking at the counter.
    “What’s for supper?”
    “I was just considering. How about pancakes?” I have just enough maple syrup left for one more meal for us.”
    “Sounds good. Have you got that on the grocery list?” She phoned her shopping list to the supermarket in Yarmouth once a month and her order was delivered to the Transport Department hangar at the airport.
    “Uh-huh. But the chopper probably won’t make it here tomorrow.”
    “Or the next day either if it gets called out for search.”
    “I hope that won’t happen. Who would be out in this storm?”
    “Allie, honey, there are always fishermen willing to take a chance. You never know who might have gone out hoping to get back before the storm hit.”
    The storm raged all the next day and then, the wind having backed around to the north west as the low pressure system moved eastward, blew itself out during the night. Toby was up at his usual daylight hour to shut down the light a half hour later, and then began his daily walk around the