Chapter Two

Sam deliberately didn't count the steps as he went down the spiral staircase. He didn't want to think about how far it was. He kept his eyes on those steps immediately in front of him as if they were all he had to navigate.

A part of him was afraid that he only had a short time to work out what had gone wrong and prevent it from happening again. A more immediate part of him was grateful that he'd be gone in a couple of days and then never have to negotiate the never-ending staircase again.

He was none-too-pleased therefore to find out that the two men worked shifts of 6 hours on, four hours off (with an overlap of an hour at each changeover when both men were on duty) and each shift involved a trip to the top of the tower to hand crank the clockwork drive which controlled the rotation of the lens. The mechanism was powered by a weight that traveled the interior height of the tower and needed winding every four hours. Sam didn't want to think about how many trips that would necessitate.

QLHQ

The Waiting Room

Fortunately, Ken's Swiss cheesing had been minimal and, far from freaking out, he'd seemed positively thrilled to find himself in Sam's aura. He was only too happy to cooperate with his 'captors'. He'd been able to impart quite a lot of useful information. What Ken couldn't do was tell Dr. Beeks much about his colleague Gilbert Burgess. "We haven't talked much and when we have it's mostly been about the job," he informed her, "Gil isn't exactly the chatty type."

Nevertheless, Ken did inform them that he'd replaced Gil's previous partner, an old man called Archie Hudson who'd died of a heart attack aged nearly 80. Like Gil, he'd spent almost his entire adult life tending the light and the two had obviously been very close. Gil resented the 'young whipper-snapper' taking the old man's place and was pretty hostile. "He makes me call him Gil, because Archie used to call him Bert so I'm not allowed to. Where's the sense in that?"

"Why not Mr. Burgess?" Verbena wanted to know. It seemed as if the senior lighthouse keeper would have been one to insist on formality and respect from the young man.

"I called him that for the first three or four days," Ken replied, "but it seemed to irritate him. Practically everything I said or did irritated the old fossil, if I'm honest. I couldn't get anything right. Nothing I did was good enough."

Cape Peligro Lighthouse

Al had passed all this information on while Sam had been descending the stairs. The leaper was not only grateful for the data, he was glad of the distraction. Then, having nothing more helpful to offer, Al had called up the Imaging Chamber door and took his leave, wishing Sam luck. Sam felt he was going to need it – in spades.

The door at the base of the tower led straight into a large tiled hallway with another door on each wall. To the right was a kitchen while to the left a door led to the outside world. Straight ahead was a small lounge beyond which were two tiny bedrooms, resembling the cells occupied by monks, separated by a compact bathroom. There wasn't much in the way of creature comforts.

Sam had entered the lounge from the lobby at more or less the same moment Gilbert came out of his bedroom, for which Sam sent up a silent prayer of thanks, having no wish to anger the other man by intruding on his personal space. Burgess had hastily put his hand into the inside of the body-warmer he wore, as if hiding something. Sam pretended not to notice.

Pretty soon, Burgess allowed that Sam had done all the necessary jobs and they both sat down in the two vast worn leather armchairs that took up a large part of the lounge, with huge mugs of strong steaming hot tea that Sam had been instructed to make. There was no television on the wall in front of them, just an old fashioned wireless radio on the mantelpiece over the open fire that cracked in the grate. On the opposite wall was a dark wood dining table with two wooden chairs. A wooden desk stood stout against the sidewall, supporting a two-way radio constantly switched on to allow them to listen to messages from local shipping as well as communicate with the mainland. Next to the desk was a tall bookcase. The place looked like time had stood still for the past forty years and Burgess with it.

Sam soon discovered for himself how irascible Gilbert Burgess was. Getting any conversation out of him made getting blood from a stone seem as easy as squeezing a sponge.

Now it was fully dark, it was starting to get chilly. Sam was content to warm his hands by the fire and relax with his tea. When Sam used the temperature as a way to engage in banter with the old man, however, he soon got a curt, "Quit yer yapping, you young whelp!" and a huffy turning aside.

Feeling like a whipped pup, Sam didn't press for further conversation and they sat in stony silence for a long while. It was starting to feel less unlikely that Ken had cracked when faced with this hostile atmosphere. Yet quitting his job would have been a simpler and less dramatic solution than vandalizing the lantern. It still didn't entirely make sense.

Sam gasped at the sudden thought that maybe Ken's death hadn't been an accident while trying to prevent the damage. What if it had been an enraged retribution meted out by an incensed Gil for the destruction of his beloved lamp? The leaper comforted himself with the thought that it wouldn't come to that since Sam had no intention of breaking the lamp in any way.

His instinct told him that if Ken had originally damaged the lamp and Gil had been too old and infirm to prevent him, it would have been more logical for him, Sam, to leap into Gil. That conclusion led Sam's mind to explore other possibilities that he was not yet ready to accept since they flew in the face of the available evidence. Nevertheless, he was on full alert.

A short time later, when both men's cups were empty, Gilbert heaved himself to his feet, looked at the clock on the wall and gestured toward the bedrooms. "Get off to sleep, boy. And mind you don't laze in bed all night. You're back on duty at 11.30 on the dot, you hear?"

"Yes, sir!" answered Sam smartly, surprised to hear the old guy string so many words together all at once. He also appreciated how he'd been able to hear Gil from the top of the tower. Even standing next to Sam, his voice was a full volume boom, as if he was practically deaf and had to shout to hear himself speak. Sam decided he should have Al check on that. The last thing he needed was to compound the problems with miscommunication.

"Told you, boy, it's Gil," snapped Burgess, penetrating Sam with a stare like a laser that could slice through lead as if it were butter.

Sam couldn't help but squirm beneath the stern gaze, and stammered, "S-sorry, Gil," scuttling away to his room before he did anything to incur further wrath. The glare followed him and Sam could feel that Gil was resentful of his usurping Archie's room.

Sam didn't get much sleep in his allotted four hours; his mind was too active churning round possibilities and wondering how he could avert the impending disaster. He felt strongly that the key lay in getting these two men talking and hopefully eventually developing a friendship. It seemed like a bigger uphill struggle than climbing the lighthouse tower. Gil certainly had issues.

Sam also wondered if the surreptitious hand gesture had been an attempt to hide the fact that the old man was in pain. Perhaps he too had a heart condition and was afraid he would meet the same end as Archie Hudson. Not that he was likely to fade into retirement. After all, old Archie had stuck with the job despite advanced years.

Sam marveled that two 'old codgers' had been able to keep up with the rigors of the job for so long. For a start, winching the weight every four hours was heavy and strenuous work, not to mention the mountaineering! Gil should have been glad to have someone like Ken who was young and fit to take on the more physical aspects of the work.

Nobody could blame Burgess for grieving the loss of a life-long friend and it was unreasonable to expect him to become bosom buddies with the new guy overnight. Even so, Gil needed to stop seeing Ken as trying to 'replace' Archie in anything other than the professional role and appreciate the young man as an individual in his own right with his own merits and strengths to offer.

How Sam was supposed to initiate such a turn-around in just over 24 hours was currently as unfathomable to the leaper as the vast Pacific Ocean outside.

It was with a heavy heart as well as heavy eyes that Sam hastily got dressed and went to find his new colleague for the start of the next shift.