***
We didn’t head to the lighthouse right away. Dex thought it would be best to film some opening shots out where it was scenic.
I stood on the beach facing north toward him. The lighthouse sat potently in the background. Dex had originally wanted a shot of the ocean crashing wildly behind me but the amount of sea spray that was whipped in the air was damaging to the camera, not to mention the fact that it blew my hair out in front of me. It took two seconds to realize I couldn’t be a good host if I was Cousin It.
The white board was placed on an angle at my feet. I had my Chucks on top of them to keep the board from flying away, but thankfully, he was only shooting from the waist up. Like my fat ass needed to be on film anyway.
Dex set up the tripod as a precautionary measure to keep the camera steady as the wind gusts threatened to blow him over.
“Thank fuck I brought the wireless mics; otherwise we wouldn’t be hearing shit right now,” he grunted, his eyes fastened on the camera’s viewscreen.
He seemed to grow tyrannical when he had the camera in front of his face. I did what he said and tried to go with the flow but I could see his mind going a mile a minute, his eyes searching all physicalities of the space in front of him. He reminded me of a mad scientist.
He pulled the focus back and forth, making miniscule adjustments, keenly watching the screen. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, or at, precisely. I just hoped he didn’t have it zoomed all the way up my nose.
I sighed and looked at the ocean. I didn’t feel the familiar ebb and flow of emotions as I usually did when I stood on the beach. Today the ocean was a stranger. Cold, rough, and ready to take me out. As the waves sucked back, they grasped the wet sand like desperate fingers, reaching for me.
“Stay there,” Dex said, his voice quiet. “Don’t move.”
I tried to stay where I was, staring at the ocean.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked with interest.
I wanted to turn and look at him. “Nothing.”
“You think too much.”
“You’re telling me,” I said. “Can I move yet?”
“Fuck, do whatever you like. Moment’s lost.”
I looked over at him. He straightened up and stretched his arms above his head. His shirt raised up a bit and exposed a flat stomach with a thin trail of stomach hair that disappeared into the band of his boxers. I looked away before he could catch me staring.
“Sorry,” I told him. “Well what now?”
He sighed, long and exaggerated. He clasped his palms together and stared at me like he had at the car earlier; he gazed right through me. I shivered. I’m pretty sure it was because of the cold and not because I found his eyes disquieting at times.
They moved from looking through me to looking at me. They relaxed considerably. He cocked his head to the side. “Did you bring something warmer to wear? Do you want my hoodie?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. But thanks.”
He watched me for a few seconds as if to verify that I wasn’t lying. “Am I giving you the creeps?”
I let out a nervous laugh. Normally I would have just said anything to make the other person feel better, but with Dex I discovered that being straight with him was the only way to go.
“Well, yeah,” I shrugged. “For someone you said wasn’t transparent, you seem to always be looking through me.”
He smiled.
“I appreciate your honesty, Perry Mason. If I continue to get all creepy on you, do let me know.”
I felt better now that it was out in the open. But despite having no trouble telling him that he freaked me out at times, there was no way in hell I would tell him I thought he was growing increasingly cuter by the second.
“OK, let’s do a quick shot here.” He pointed at me to stay put. “Can you get the hair out of your face and tuck it around to the right?”
I reached over and gathered what hair I could. I grimaced at the touch of my strands, matted and tangled from the wind and salt. He smiled at the image on the camera. He was probably laughing at me. I gave the camera a look.
He looked up. “When I said you weren’t transparent, I meant it. You’ve got a lot going on inside.” He tapped the side of his head.
“Don’t we all?” I jeered. I felt vaguely insulted. Just because I was twenty-two and not thirty-two didn’t mean I hadn’t been through a lot. Dex took his attention away from the camera and looked me straight in the eye, with sincerity this time.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low, warm and serious. “I didn’t mean to belittle you. By any means. OK?”
I may not have been transparent, but he was awfully good at reading my thoughts or at least my face.
He nodded, apparently satisfied with my non-response, and turned back to the camera.
“OK, do you remember your lines?”
What the hell? Lines? When did the topic of lines come up?
“What lines?”
“Didn’t I give you lines?” He scratched his head.
“No, Dex. History homework, but no lines.”
He thought that over then shrugged, “Fuck it.” He waved at me. “Just make something up.”
“About what?”
“About the lighthouse. What we might experience. Introduce the show; tell us some history. Go!” He pointed at me.
Oh God, this was worse than being called on in class when you didn’t do the homework.
I cleared my throat, “Good evening. Welcome to—” I paused. I didn’t actually know the name of our show, “Ghost...Blogger. Tonight’s mystery show revolves around the mysteries of....this....lighthouse.”
I motioned at the lighthouse like one of those cheesy babes who showcase the prizes on The Price is Right. My mind was frantically spinning, trying to come up with ideas faster than I could talk.
“The Rocky Point lighthouse has an interesting and sordid history”—one that I was about to make up—“It was built at the turn of the century to warn incoming ships; however, after only ten years in service, it started to have mechanical problems. At least they figured it was mechanical because no matter what they tried, the light kept going out after dark. Rumors started that the lighthouse was cursed as it lay dark at night and became invisible to passing ships. The lighthouse was deserted and boarded up and a new lighthouse was resurrected out on a rocky outcrop further up the coast.”
I pointed up the coast, hoping Dex would follow my finger and take the pressure off of me for a moment. I had no idea what the hell I was talking about and had no idea how long I could keep it up. But the camera stayed on me. Dex met my eyes for a second and silently encouraged me to keep going. I took a deep breath...
“However, horror and tragedy met that lighthouse as well. The day before it was set to be lit, a merchant ship slammed into nearby rocks during the night. The ship sank, along with sixteen men and two women who drowned in its waves. At least, that’s what the official record was. Legend has it that one of the women managed to drift along on a piece of driftwood until she reached the shore. Right there.”
I looked behind me at the rocky coast beneath the lighthouse and cliff.
And just like that, I couldn’t breathe. The immense pressure of cold prickles seized my body and I froze on the spot.
I stared blankly at the area and suddenly my world was black.
I was now standing beneath the lighthouse, waves crashing into me from behind as my attention was fixed on the sight above. On the cliff stood the man in black, his fingers pointed straight out at the darkening sea and sky. Behind him stood another figure, obscured by the shadows.
The light from the lighthouse came on then, and in that instance of stark illumination, I could see that other figure. It was me.
It was me, standing there as plain as day, and slowly reaching for the shoulder of the man in black.
I felt fingers grasp my own shoulder.
I turned and screamed.
I was back on the beach in the daylight. Dex was standing beside me with his hand firmly on me. It took a good few seconds to stop screaming and realize what I was looking at.
He grabbed my other shoulder. “Perry. Perry, it’s me, Dex. Are you OK? What happened?”
My eyes flitted across his face, unable to focus. He squeezed my shoulders and brought me closer into him. It would have been nice, if only I wasn’t freaking the fuck out.
“Perry, look at me. Look at me.” He put his face in closer until I had no choice but to focus on those brown orbs of his. I could see he was just as frightened as me. “You’re here now. With me. OK? Everything’s OK.”
I nodded and took in a deep breath. He didn’t let go of my shoulders or get out of my face. He searched my face relentlessly. That frown line of his is really etched in there, I thought absently.
“What happened? You turned and you froze. Went completely white. I kept calling your name over and over again. Couldn’t you hear me?”