The Orchard

The wind rattles the walls the higher we climb, and when we finally reach the upper lantern room, a howling gust screams through cracks in the exterior. "The first lighthouse keeper was a Frenchman," I explain. "He named it Lumiere. It was a lot of work to keep the lighthouse running back then- maintaining the lanterns and prisms. Now it's almost automated."

"How did you learn all this?"

"My dad," I answered automatically. "He studied lighthouses after my parents bought it." I swallow hard then continue. "We need to check the glass and the bulb each day. And everything needs to be cleaned a couple of times a week to keep the salty air from building up. It's not hard. But during a storm or a thick fog, this light house can save the lives of fishermen out of sea. So we have to keep it running." He nods, walking to the windows to look out over the sea. I eye him and then look out over the sea. After a few minutes of staring through the glass, he follows me back through the doorway and down the winding staircase. We walk up the path to the high center of the island, through the old orchard, where rows of Braeburn apple and spindly Anjou pear tree had died, since no one took care of it.

"What about the orchard?" Ryan asks, pausing at the end of the row.

"What about it?"

"These trees haven't been trimmed in years." I squint at him and he reaches up to touch one of the bony, leafless branches, as if he can sense the tree's history just by touching it. "They need to be limbed and the dead ones cut down."

"How do you know?" I asked.

" I grew up on a farm," he answers vaguely.

"My mom doesn't really care about the trees," I say.

"Well someone cared about them once and besides it can probably live another hundred years if someone took care of it," he said.

"You're going to bring it back to life?"

"Sure it will just take some work."

I smile a little, scanning the rows of trees. I've always loved the orchard, but it's been years since it really bloom. I also told Ryan that I was going to help him.

He smiles faintly, and our eyes meet for a instant. I show Ryan the other buildings on the island, and we circle around. He's careful not to walk too close to me, keeping his arm from brushing mine when we walk side by side, his steps deliberate and measured over the stony landscape. But his eyes flick over to me when he thinks I'm not looking. I swallow. I tighten my jaw. I look away. When we reached towards the ocean, the song of the sisters feel like a whisper in our ears. As if they were standing besides us, breath against our neck.

"How many people have died?" he asks.

"Excuse me?"

"During the months when the Swan sisters return?"

I cross my arms, the window brushing the hair over my eyes. "They each drown one boy... usually."

"Usually?"

"More or less. It depends."

"On?"

I shrug, thinking about the summers when five or six boys were found tumbling with the waves against the shore.

"How do they choose?"

"Choose what?"

"Who they're going to kill?"

"...Probably the same way they chose lovers when they were alive."

"So they love they boys they drown?" I think maybe he's being sarcastic, but when I tilt my gaze to look at him, his dark eyes and punctuated full lips have stiffened. I knew it wasn't just cause of love it was just a perfect way to get revenge, even murder...

"Well I got to go to the lighthouse."

Then the singing stopped. Ryan takes a step closer to the edge of the cliff, like he's straining to hear what was no longer there. "It's gone," he says.

"The sister have found all the bodies and they've all returned." I close my eyes focusing on the silence. It's the fastest it's ever happened before. Now the drowning will begin...

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***