Mystery at the Lighthouse

Some knowledge is best left undiscovered

One thing I often tell my children is that they can do anything but they can’t do everything. This is advice I need to start listening to. I love stories and storytelling. I think telling stories is what I do best. Instead of trying to be a funky literary magazine with comics, poems, microfiction, essays, and short stories, I’m going to narrow my focus.

Each week I’ll share a handful of haiku comics and a short story with an original illustration.

Haiku Comics

After a long absence, I’m trying to rebuild my creative haiku meditation practice. With this practice, I write ten haiku about a single topic or word. Now, I’ve added an additional element where I also illustrate the haiku. Here’s a sampling of my “stars” meditation.

Mystery at the Lighthouse

The angry wind agitated the waves and filled in the sandy footprints of the boy and his dog almost as quickly as they were made.

Toby had managed to slip out the sliding glass back door and into the night without alerting his attentive parents due to an impetuous decision to bring Ratchet with him. By scooping the portable beagle into his arms before unlocking the door, Toby ensured that Ratchet wouldn’t wake anyone with her protest barks at being left behind on the nocturnal adventure.

Even with the wind gusts coming off the ocean and across the island, Toby wasn’t cold. He loved how the cool sand kissed the soles of feet with each step as he ran along the trail down to the beach. Ratchet, thrilled with the prospect of more time with Toby, ran ahead of the boy and circled back at regular intervals as if herding him to their destination.

Up ahead, the lighthouse loomed, its golden eye roaming the sea even though Toby had never seen a single ship approach the island in all of his twelve years of life.

Ratchet seemed to understand the need for discretion. The chatty dog didn’t bark her usual encouragement. Instead, she only panted and gave an occasional growl to a few suspicious pieces of bleached driftwood.

Toby’s parents didn’t have a lot of rules, and the rules they did have tended to be more observed by Toby in the breaching of them than in the keeping of them. One rule Toby’s parents insisted upon was that Toby should never approach the lighthouse.

For eleven and a half years, Toby didn’t need any encouragement. The lighthouse was at the far end of the island and was situated high on a bluff overlooking the only cove. Nobody ever visited the lighthouse, and the lighthouse never shone—not even during the fiercest storms or densest bouts of fog.

That changed six months ago. One night, Toby noticed the powerful light beaming out to the horizon. This was strange because Toby knew everyone on the island, and nobody was going out to the lighthouse.

All the parents on the island gave their children the same exact explanation. The lighthouse was automated. The uniformity of the explanation and the refusal to brook any further discussion roused the children's curiosity at Toby’s school.

Rumors quickly spread, as rumors always do when children suspect their parents are prevaricating. Most of the children had decided that the truth was a robot now lived in the lighthouse, and that’s why it worked and why they were not supposed to go there.

Robots were part of the second rule that Toby's parents insisted upon. Like all the other parents on this island, they would not tolerate any discussion of machines that thought for themselves.

Toby was obsessed with the lighthouse. He had to know if there was a real robot on their island. However, the reason Toby and Ratchet were out this particular night was that Trey had told everyone in class that Toby was too scared to go to the lighthouse. The combination of curiosity, pride, and peer pressure was too much for Toby.

Toby and Ratchet only paused a moment when they reached the base of the hill that was crowned by the lighthouse before ascending. The wind-worn grass was harsher on his feet than the sand, but neither Toby nor Ratchet were uncomfortable with the change in terrain.  

Once they reached the summit, they noticed how weathered the lighthouse looked. It appeared even more ancient up close than it did from the beach. The pair circumnavigated the outside until they found a door on the far side. It opened easily enough, but it gave such an awful creak as it swung on its hinges that Toby was half-afraid his parents would hear it. Inside, the lighthouse was dark except for a crack of light high above them.

While Toby’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he heard Ratchet scampering up some stairs. Toby whispered for the dog to wait and Ratchet promptly sat on a stair while Toby groped his way to and up a spiral staircase.

Once they were reunited, Ratchet again took the lead,  bounding up the stairs and waiting for Toby to catch up.

The crack of light at the top gave Toby just enough confidence to move forward a few stairs at a time without being saddled with fear since he couldn't see how far above the ground he had ventured.

After an arduous climb, Toby and Ratchet reached the top of the stairs and saw a closed door with light sneaking out the bottom.

Toby opened the door and stepped into the room.

Ratchet began barking furiously in a way that Toby had never heard her bark before. Out of the shadows in the far corner, Toby heard the sounds of gears and servos as something stepped towards him.

Ratchet charged forward, and before Toby could call her back, the figure shouldered something and shot what looked like portable lightning through Ratchet. The dog collapsed onto the floor—stiff and still.

Toby yelped and ran towards her, heedless of the danger.

He cradled Ratchet and looked at the attacker.

It appeared to be an old man. He had a rough, white beard, a sea captain’s hat, and a single eye. Where his other eye should’ve been was some kind of telescoping lens that moved in and out, trying to get a look at Toby. He had mechanical legs where all the gears and mechanisms were exposed. He sounded like a cross between a clock and a washing machine when he walked.

“You killed Ratchet!” Toby yelled.

“Damn it! I told them no robots. They promised me they wouldn’t send any robots up here.” The old man said.

Toby stared at the old man.

“Are—are—are—you a robot then?”

The old man laughed without mirth.

“No, boy. I’m not a robot.”

Toby stared at the man’s legs.

“Well,” the old man added, following Toby’s gaze, “I’m a bit of a cyborg. My thinking is organic though. Not mechanical or digital. And that’s what counts.”

“You killed her!”

Toby was clutching Ratchet close to his chest. Something softened in the old man’s face.

“Calm down, boy. She’s not dead. I just stunned her. Give her here. I want to show you something.”

Toby stepped backward, his legs tensing and ready to bolt.

The old man didn’t advance. He leaned forward and spoke with a soft voice like the one Toby remembered his grandfather using in the home movies his parents showed him.

“Her name is Ratchet, I think you said?”

Toby nodded.

“Bring Ratchet over to my bench there, and I’ll wake her up.”

Toby did as the old man asked but remained alert to the smallest sign of treachery from the cyborg keeper.

Toby gently laid Ratchet on a long, clean workbench. The old man slowly approached and gently felt around on Ratchet’s belly and somehow opened up an invisible panel underneath her fur.

“Look here boy. See your dog is the robot. Not me.”

Toby couldn’t believe his eyes. Inside of Toby was a maze of circuitry and mechanics.

“My name is Milt. That’s short for Milton. What’s your name, son?”

“Toby.”

“That’s a fine name. Toby, do you still want me to wake up Ratchet?”

Toby nodded.

Milt opened a drawer on the bench and pulled out a device that shot a small zap inside Ratchet. She instantly came back to life and began barking.

Toby scooped Ratchet up and hugged her. Confused, Ratchet began licking Toby.

“Toby, you have a fine dog. Perhaps the best ever made.”

“I don’t understand. We aren’t allowed to talk about robots. But my dog is a robot? Do my parents know? How did you know?”

Milt considered Toby.

“Toby, I’m the only one that’s not a robot on this island. I’m what they call a failsafe. Do you know what that means?”

Today shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Give me your arm Toby.”

Toby felt a pricking sensation on his skin and was sick to his stomach the moment Milt’s hand grabbed his wrist. Toby yanked his hand free.

Milt laughed the same hollow laugh.

“Feels icky, does it? I’ll be. They’ve programmed your generation with the uncanny valley sensation. Remarkable.”

Toby felt frozen in place. Ratchet growled in his arms.

“Toby, you’re more like Ratchet than you are like me. I can show you if you like.”

Toby set Ratchet down and then sprinted for the door. He called Ratchet, who swiftly followed him as he fled down the stairs, down the hill, and across the beach back home.

 Behind the retreating pair, the golden eye of the lighthouse continued to sweep the empty ocean.

---

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story please share it!

Be the weird you want to see in the world.

Cheers,

Jason