“Hey,” Al yelled after him. “Be careful!”
I love storms. I ran out after Dex. Al tried to grab me but I outmaneuvered him.
“Perry,” he warned. But the twins followed me as well, and Al was more than outnumbered. I turned around and saw him shut the door and peer at us through the window.
The weather was absolutely wild; the gusts were coming in so strong and blunt that it was hard to stay upright at times. It wasn’t raining yet but the air did feel weighted, like it was about to let loose at any moment. Thunder’s mighty rumble shook the sky and the ground beneath us. We waited—spread out on the dark lawn looking toward the ocean—with bated breath for the lightning to show its face. A few seconds later (nine Mississippis to be precise) it forked aggressively from the heavy clouds down to the churning waves on the horizon.
It was during the lightening flash that I saw something I had never seen before. In the distance was a solitary island, shaped like a sharp anvil. On top of that mound was what looked like another lighthouse.
Just like the one I had made up.
I froze, keeping my eyes on the spot even as the strike faded and turned my view back to black.
As the boys made impressed noises at Mother Nature’s display, I waited for the next strike to happen so I could get a better look. It seemed odd that I had never seen that lighthouse out there before and even odder that I was talking about it earlier. Perhaps I had seen it before through the fog and just never consciously recognized it. Perhaps I read it about it in the history books without realizing it.
Thunder shook the air again with even more power than before; its vibrations rattled around in my skull like balls in a washing machine. I started counting and at five Mississippis, the lightning struck.
This time there were several electric branches that forked out, some sideways, heading in the direction of the offshore lighthouse that was now clearly illuminated. There was no denying that it was there.
“The Tillamook Lighthouse,” Dex said. I looked beside me. He was standing to my side and I hadn’t even noticed. His cheekbones were obsidian shadows against the house’s flickering porch light. I couldn’t see his eyes but I could feel them. He was looking at me, not the lightning show.
“Like that story you made up,” he said without emotion. “We should go do this. Now.”
As he said it, another huge gust of forceful wind knocked me off my feet a little and the thunder growled again, only closer now. It was definitely a sign from God that we should not be traipsing off to the lighthouse, but Dex had already turned and was running back into the house.
“Get some better clothes and shoes on,” he yelled over his shoulder, and went into the house. Matt and Tony decided to go back in too.
“You guys are fucking crazy,” Tony said as he walked past me. Matt gave me a shove to get me walking with them. He leaned in.
“I agree,” he said. “Watch yourself.”
This was probably the first time I had ever seen my cousins act remotely brotherly towards me. I wasn’t sure if now, of all times, was the best time for them to start.
***
Once again, Dex and I were heading up the beach toward the lighthouse. But it was already a million times different from the way it was in the afternoon.
For one reason, we had half the equipment. The tripod, sound gear, and lighting were all left behind. Dex had his camera on his shoulder and that was it.
For two, we were surrounded by complete darkness. The moon was in a permanent grave somewhere in that tumultuous sky, and the only light we had was from the lightning as it moved further north of us and inland. Its flashes were growing weaker and farther apart. Lightning wasn’t exactly the most pleasant light to find your way by.
For three, we were in the midst of an increasingly violent storm. Rain started to fall sporadically, though we were spared the brunt of a total downpour thus far. The gusts of wind came stronger and more furious by the minute until it felt like the entire contents of the beach were lodged in my hair. Not to mention the number of times it knocked me down into the sand. And I’m no lightweight.
Luckily, the first few times that my boots couldn’t grip on the slippery, sliding dunes, Dex was there to grab my arm and steady me. My iPhone light was completely useless at this point, and I had to put it away, in case kernels of sand got lodged in there forever.
Dex still had a flashlight he had borrowed from Al. It was dinky and fading fast, but it was still a source of light. There was the bulb on his camera as well, but that would be a last resort. Considering Dex said he paid for all of his equipment himself, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t pull out his camera until we were inside the lighthouse and safe from the elements.
Seconds after brushing away Dex’s hand in the dark (he was trying to steady me, don’t get any interesting ideas), I found myself losing my footing again. The wind howled into my side and the tip of my left boot got tangled up in the strewn dune grass.
I lofted forward in slow motion and face planted into the sand. It didn’t hurt but that didn’t stop me from feeling stupid.
I breathed sand for a few before pushing myself off of the ground and onto my butt. My vision was black ink. I could barely see my hand in front of me, especially as the storm was constantly blowing my hair in my face. Even my yellow pea coat, chosen for its bright and eye-catching properties, was a hazy, grainy grey outline.
I expected Dex to give me a hand any moment. But I didn’t sense Dex near me anymore.
“Dex?” I said tentatively. My voice was barely audible in the wind. Hair flew in my mouth. It tasted like old fish.
“Dex!” I cried out louder. I listened hard, holding my breath. I could only hear the howling wind and the faint thump of waves carried on it.
With great care, I got to my feet, keeping as low to the ground as possible. It was so disorienting being in the dark with no idea whatsoever what way was east or west, where the lighthouse was, where the house was, or where Dex was. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I started to panic.