The Lighthouse Leap

An old man reflects on the changes his town and his relationship with his son have gone through

‘The only part that still feels the same…’ David murmured to himself. Over time of course, barnacles and algae had made their home in the splash zone of the jetty he had parked himself on. Salty seawater and tireless wind had dug creases and cracks in the dark wood. They reminded him of the deep lines that marked his own face nowadays, a face weathered by wind and water too. On the pier to his left the iconic red and white lighthouse ceremoniously stood watch over the quiet harbor. Even the most old-fashioned among the fishermen from Downalong had embraced more modern navigational systems years ago. For some time after losing is original purpose, the lighthouse had functioned as a restaurant, then as a small museum, a tourist shop. Until finally it stopped functioning altogether.

            To David the lighthouse symbolized the fate most seaside towns will eventually suffer. Seemingly random peaks in tourist numbers will inspire the local businessmen with overly ambitious plans. The luckier towns manage to keep the tourists around long enough for them to catch a glimpse of the finished real estate and fancy new facilities. Sooner rather than later though,  they will move on. Off to plant naïve hopes in the hearts of locals from the next up and coming holiday hotspot. In many ways, a seaside town reminded the old man of a piece of clothing. Loved by the masses when in fashion, but forgotten about as quickly as pastel colors replace polka dots. Revivals are short-lived and - eventually - rediscovered humbleness will push the town back into oblivion. Degraded hotels, empty shopping malls and rusty Ferris wheels stay behind as a warning to the younger generations. ‘There is no real future for you in a town like this’, they tell them. He had seen his town ride the wave of success before, had seen it swell, grow, peak... Until it collapsed and seeped back into the undertow, biding its’ time for a new chance to rise.

            David’s son didn’t care for metaphors and similes. ‘Ramblings of a lethargic, old man’ he called them. ‘This town doesn’t get ahead because everyone is so s**t-scared of change. Of progress’, he said. His son didn’t care much for rundown architectural warnings either. ‘Bad entrepreneurship and poor financial decisions’. Or simply ‘bad luck’.

            David had tried to talk some sense into the boy, had tried to talk the fruitless undertaking out of his head. ‘A bungee tower, or whatever it is you call it, will not bring the tourists back’, David had objected, ‘it will do nothing more than ruin the view of the lighthouse’.

His son had an answer to everything these days though. Explanations littered with technical words to clarify why he would succeed where others had failed. Lots of numbers too. To be perfectly honest, David was tired. Tired of arguing with his only son. And so he had reluctantly agreed to give his son a second advance on his inheritance. Construction on The Lighthouse Leap would start tomorrow.

           The high-pitched shriek of a passing seagull snapped David out of his melancholic musings. He gripped the wooden railing and slowly got to his feet. The woodwork sighed under the pull of David’s weight, as if it was made of his very own bones.

‘Maybe this time things will work out’, David sighed in response. He was not convinced.

Reviews

[Vasilees Sybissyl]

Why do you do this? Leave me thinking about the future of your characters?

But moreover, the story is captivating. The tourists should come back to the town, they don't know what they're missing. Keep up the good work!!