It is a rainy morning here. Still dark outside, and I can hear the patter of rain on the skylight. Now and again the sky lights up with a flash of lightning and the distant rumble of thunder rolls across the heavens. The perfect kind of day to curl up with a good book and read for hours . . . But, I can't do that today. I don't have time.
Let me see, where has this week gone? Or at least what has it been filled with? You want to know?
Friday- We came home from my grandparents and got to work. We had to get everything together for the Farm Girl Fest that started the next day. We took a friend and went to sent up our tents that evening.
Saturday- Spent it all day out at Red Oak 2 for the first day of the festival. It wasn't too cold in the morning, but later the wind picked up and we froze! It was cloudy all day, but we were very thankful it didn't rain. It took a couple hours to thaw out after we got home.
On Sunday we had church out at Red Oak 2 and then were there until almost 6:00. That day was sunny and beautiful! I ended up selling 6 of my books and gave my contact info to a few people.
Monday came and there were piles of things all over the house so I stayed busy cleaning up, putting away, trying to get some things done and all that stuff.
Tuesday- I corrected papers for writing classes, then we babysat Pickle Puss, Goof Ball, Funny Boy and Doodle Bug all afternoon until after supper.
Wednesday- Writing Class Wednesdays are always busy. I had to make sure I was ready for the three classes and then I graded some papers for someone else. I thought the classes went pretty well even if I had to keep reminded my boys to "stay focused" on what we were doing.
Yesterday- We went to Connie's to check our booth, then to JoAnns. I graded papers, checked essays, figured out a quilt, finished writing and checking a story and was tired when I went to bed. :)
So there you have my week. And I didn't even mention all those little extra things that come up that make life even busier.
I've been having a rough time writing. It's not that I don't want to write, and I have gotten several evening of writing in, but I can't seem to think as clearly and kept having to delete and re-write. Perhaps it is because there is just so much going on. And AGC is in less than three weeks!
Here is the end of this short story. Thanks for leaving a comment, Anott.
Great was Mr. Sullivan’s astonishment when he was awakened and saw his only son standing before him. For several minutes he could only hold on to him and whisper, “Marshall, my son, my son.”
“I’m home now, Father.”
“But what about college?”
The story of the unmailed letters was repeated and then the three reunited Sullivans fell to talking.
It was growing late when suddenly Mr. Sullivan started up in his chair. “The light. I must go light it now.”
Marshall rose at once saying, “No, Father, let me. Please, it will be like old times. Leigh can go with me to make sure I still remember how.” And, without giving his father time to object or protest, Marshall started for the stairs calling behind him just as he used to do when a boy, “I’ll race you to the top, Sis!”
It wasn’t until the lights were lit and the brother and sister were standing on the balcony below the light, watching its beam flash far out to sea, that Marshall spoke his thoughts. “Father doesn’t look very well, Leigh. What’s wrong with him?”
Leigh didn’t answer right away and her brother turned to look at her. “Has Dr. Armstrong seen him yet?”
Leigh shook her head. “No, Papa won’t let me call him. I think he’s overworked and tired. He needs to get away from everything for a while and rest.”
For a moment Marshall looked thoughtful, then he spoke. “Invite him for supper on Tuesday.”
Marshall snorted, “Dr. Armstrong. I’d like to see him again. I’ll have to make sure I see all my old acquaintances, you know.” He smiled, and Leigh gave an answering smile in return. It was good to have Marshall home.
Marshall hardly gave his father time to do anything other than relax in his chair, for he took complete charge of the light, laughing when his father protested and running up and down the steps declaring that it was keeping him in shape. Leigh watched with delight, for she saw that with Marshall home the two of them could run the light. Then she would grow grave. If only they could persuade their father to take a vacation.
When Tuesday came, Marshall casually remarked at the breakfast table that he would like to see Dr. Armstrong again and Leigh said she would invite him to supper if that was all right. Mr. Sullivan nodded. Dr. Armstrong was a good friend and he would enjoy a chat with him himself.
Supper was a pleasant affair with Marshall telling about life at college, and afterwards Mr. Sullivan and Dr. Armstrong settled themselves in armchairs in the living room while Marshall tended the light and Leigh washed the dishes. As soon as the light was lit, Marshall joined his sister in the kitchen remarking, “It looks like a storm is blowing in.”
Leigh sighed, “Did you mention it to Papa?”
“Well, if it comes Ted and Henry will be over.”
Marshall stopped drying the plate in his hand and looked at Leigh with puzzled eyes. “The Larson boys?” he asked. “Why?”
“All the men around here have been taking turns coming over when it storms, to help whenever they are needed, because Papa just can’t do it all anymore,” Leigh explained.
“Well, I’m home now,” Marshall declared, “and this is my lighthouse.”
His sister didn’t reply.
There was a storm and, as Leigh had predicted, Ted and Henry came over. Both were glad to see Marshall again and left most of the work in his capable hands. Mr. Sullivan tried to help, but he tired so quickly that Dr. Armstrong, who had been there when the storm broke, insisted that he let the boys take care of things.
“Marshall, Papa must have a rest,” Leigh repeated as the two of them strolled along the sandy shore. “Even Dr. Armstrong agrees with me.”
“I know,” Marshall agreed. “You don’t have to convince me, it’s Father. Did you write Kathryn?”
Leigh nodded. “I hope I hear from her soon. A few more such storms as we’ve had will send Papa to bed for a long time I’m afraid.”
The brother and sister walked on in silence for several minutes before Leigh spoke once more. “Marshall.”
“If I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer?” She had stopped and stood looking up into her younger brother’s eyes.
“Of course I will,” he replied, wondering what was coming.
“Do you want to spend the rest of your life living at a lighthouse and keeping the lights burning?”
Marshall’s voice was quiet but firm when he answered, “Yes, Leigh, I do.”
Smiling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Leigh said, “That is all I wanted to hear.”
The letter came the next afternoon and even with its plea for a visit, it took Leigh’s passionate appeal to rest for her sake and Marshall’s keen logic and firm assurance that the light would shine every night before Mr. Sullivan was convinced that a trip away from his life at the lighthouse was for the best. But, at last all was settled.
Standing at the door of the lighthouse, Leigh and Marshall waved good bye to their father as Dr. Armstrong drove him away to the train station. Leigh sighed, she would miss her father, but he must get a rest. Besides, she thought, glancing at her tall brother, Marshall was home and they would together, take care of the light until the rightful lighthouse keeper returned in health.
What did you think of it?