The Lighthouse of Arnold's Bay

Arnold’s Bay, South Africa, was a diamond town until it ran out of diamonds. It then became a titanium town, until it ran out of that too. And then it became a fishing town, until the waters were overfished. Then, a crayfish town, until the ocean bed was littered with empty traps. Then, the locals discovered that the surrounding land was perfect for framing potatoes, and then it became a potato chip town, until the underground water dried up. And now it is a nothing town, except for the occasional tourist.

But, the one thing Arnold’s Bay never had was a lighthouse. 

So why did the photo of Arthur’s family on the beach have a lighthouse in the background? Jamie, lying on a towel, was reading a book with a yellow cover, trying to look like the teenager she had just become. Charlie was playing in the water, not quite a kid, but not a teenager yet. Mary, his wife, was lying next to her daughter under an umbrella, with a cover-up, reading a magazine. In the photo's background was Long Pier and the lighthouse that shouldn’t be there. 

“What are you looking at?” Mary asked, wiping down the surface of the kitchen table. Arthur held out his phone to her, with the photo still on display.

“That’s a sweet one,” she said.

“Can you see the lighthouse?”

“Um, no,” she scrunched her eyebrows, “it looks more like a dog to me.” 

Arthur looked back at the photo and saw the dog-shaped cloud in the background. 

As a kid, he hated Arnold’s Bay. There were almost no other children, and it was even worse as a teenager when most families had left. He would cruise the streets on his skateboard, planning his escape and hating his dad for being the CEO of a dying chip factory. 

But now, as an adult, he loved to retreat there on school holidays. Far away from traffic and smog. His parent’s old house was still in surprisingly good nick. Jamie was almost too old to appreciate the time away with family, but Charlie still enjoyed it. Arthur always wanted to teach his kids to skateboard, but neither of them had any interest. 

“It’s your turn to make dinner tonight,” Mary said, packing the dishwasher. 

“You happy with fish and chips?” Arthur asked, putting his phone away.

“Yes!” echoed from the lounge where the kids were playing on their tablets.

Arthur parked outside Barry se Vis en Chips Shoppie. On the inside, it was tiny, with only one plastic table and two outdoor plastic chairs. A window opened to the kitchen at the back, and above it was a blackboard with three items on the menu: Battered Hake, Chips, and Coke. The local joke was that the frying oil hadn’t been changed in 20 years, which gave the chips their flavor.

Arthur gave the young man behind the counter his order, then browsed the community pinboard while he waited. Local adverts and newspaper articles featuring the small town were laminated and stuck to the grey felt. “Teen Girls Clean the Beach!” “Surf champion shreds the waves in Arnold’s Bay,” “Wag-a-thon adopt a dog day is a big success on Arnold’s Bay beach.”

In all three of the photographs, the lighthouse can be seen clearly in the background. 

“Ready,” called the young man behind the counter. He held out two bags.

“Tell me,” said Arthur, taking the sweaty plastic, “When did they build the lighthouse?”

“Lighthouse?” the young man said, confused. “What lighthouse?”

“Never mind,” Arthur said as he left the shop. It was still light on his drive back, so he took a detour past Long Pier. He double parked the car on the empty road and looked out to sea. There was no lighthouse. But this was exactly where he had been this morning with his family. A teenage couple walked down the beach, hand in hand.

He took another photo of Long Pier. In his camera reel, there was clearly a lighthouse at the edge of Long Pier. The girl was even pointing at it.

Arthur returned to his family with the lukewarm fish and chips, but no one seemed to mind.

That night, Arthur lay in bed, running through all the possibilities. It was possible that there were two piers, and he was getting them confused - although that didn’t make sense. And he knew this town like the back of his hand. If it was a cloud or a weird optical illusion, then it was a very good impression of one. Maybe his phone was broken or hacked? Alternatively, he was going insane. He briefly considered waking Mary to show her the photos but decided against it. He might be going insane, but he wasn’t crazy.

The next morning, he showed her the new photo with the teenagers. “Hun, what do you think she is pointing to?” He held the phone up for her. Mary looked up from her book.

“It looks kind of like a fish,” she said. “What’s with all the clouds?” 

“Just curious.”

He then asked Jamie the same question. 

She rolled her eyes at him, “The creepy lighthouse.”

“Creepy?”

“Yeah, the light slowed down every time it pointed at us.” 

*

Arthur dropped his family off the beach, “I want to swing by the realtors. I’ll be right back.” Mary pinched her lips.

There was only one psychic in all of Arnold’s Bay. Although, given the size of the town, it was more of a surprise that there was one at all. Madam Gray’s psychic and crystal shop was opposite Barry’s.

Madam Gray was chubby, with dyed red hair that framed her wrinkled face. “Would you like a reading?” she asked when she greeted him at the front door. He nodded and followed her inside. Once they were settled, she looked at Arthur for a long time. He squirmed in his seat.

Eventually, she asked. “Why did you marry your wife when you were so young?”

“Um, what? I, twenty, isn’t that young. And we loved - love - each other.” Arthur started to think that this might have been a terrible idea.

She nodded but clearly didn’t believe him. “Why are you here?”

“Um, no. I just… I think I see something that no one else can see.”

She raised a drawn-on eyebrow, “the lighthouse?”

“How did you know about that?”

She shrugged. “You aren’t the first. Some people can see it, some can’t.”

“Why can my daughter and I see it, but not my wife? Is it a ghost?”

Madam Gray nodded. “Only some of us adults can see it. Especially those who spent a lot of time here growing up. All children can see it, though. It was built in Intermundia, a place between worlds. Sometimes it shows itself, and sometimes it doesn’t. I can only see it when I wear sunglasses. I know another fella who can only see it in mirrors - noticed it while driving.”

“Photos. I can only see it in photos.”

Madam Gray nodded.

As he tried to leave the shop, she tried to sell him a book called The Intermundia Explained, but he refused.

Standing outside on the beach road, Arthur felt better in the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one losing his mind. There was still a part of him that still didn’t feel right, but he shook it off. 

A man was sitting on a bench overlooking the beach and Long Pier, and he had turned his head to look at Arthur. Some people are rough around the edges, but this man was jagged around the whole. His clothes were threadbare, and he clearly hadn’t taken a bath in a very long time. A bag, presumably full of his possessions, rested on the bench next to him. The rough sleeper smiled at Arthur, exposing a mostly toothless mouth.

Arthur quickly walked to his car and joined his family on the beach, making a feeble excuse about the local realtors not being very good. Mary didn’t say anything; she just kept on doing her crossword. While sitting on the beach reading, he kept glancing at Long Pier as if trying to catch the invisible lighthouse off guard. 

“I think I’ll get some more fish and chips for us this evening,” Arthur said to no one in particular.

“Sounds good,” Mary flipped another page.

*

Arthur parked his car near the start of Long Pier. The sun had just gone over the horizon, and it was starting to get dark. He walked towards it and saw a pile of rags obstructing the entrance. Then the pile of rags shifted, and he saw it was the man from earlier.

“I wouldn’t go down there if I were you.” To Arthur’s surprise, he spoke with boarding school English. Crisp and clear with a minimal accent.

“I was just going to have a look.”

“Best you didn’t.”

Arthur shifted awkwardly, not knowing what to do. He could easily walk past the man. 

Before Arthur could think of his next move, the man stood up. “Do you want to get some fish and chips?”

Arthur didn’t know what to do and followed the strange man toward Barry’s. At the counter, the young man took their orders. Arthur wanted to pay for the rough sleeper’s meal but was waved away.

“I can get whenever I want.” While they waited inside, the strange man kept glancing outside as if expecting a wave of people to appear out of nowhere, sprinting towards the lighthouse that wasn’t there. 

Once they had received their orders and settled outside on the bench that Arthur had seen him on earlier, the strange man introduced himself.

“I’m Barry, by the way; that’s my shop.” He nodded towards the takeaway joint, and suddenly, Arthur felt less enthusiastic about his meal. “What’s your name?”

Arthur introduced himself, saying that he used to live here as a child. Eventually, he had the courage to ask about the lighthouse.

Barry paused for a moment before beginning his story. “When I was a kid, my family and all my cousins would come here on holiday. One day, when I was thirteen, my cousins and I bet each other a marshmallow fish that we could touch the lighthouse first. My eldest cousin, Tinus, got there first and as he put his hand on it, he just disappeared right before our eyes. We all stopped dead, looking into the ocean to see if he had fallen. Sarah, my little sister, was always keen to keep up with the boys and always more foolhardy than us. She… she,” Barry gulped, “put her hand on the lighthouse to prove that Tinus hadn’t disappeared, and then she was gone too. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Barry looked out at the end of the pier where the lighthouse would have been.

“We ran to our parents and told them what happened. They stopped their day drinking, and search parties were called. No one would believe us about the lighthouse, and it was only then that I realized that some people couldn’t see it. Over the next few days, everyone seemed to forget about the missing children. Sarah’s clothes were mistaken for mine, and Tinus’s books were ‘returned’ to me. And after a week, no one knew who Sarah and Tinus were. It’s like they slowly disappeared. The only ones who remembered are those who saw it happen.” 

“My cousins left as soon as they could and swore never to come back. But I couldn’t do that. Couldn’t just let more children disappear. So, I worked in that shop until I could buy it. It’s got a good view of the pier through the doors.”

“But why do you sleep outside if you own the shop?” Arthur looked at him incredulously.

 “In thirty years, there hadn’t been a single disappearance. Until five years ago, I was asleep, and I missed one. I failed, and a family lost their precious child. From that day on, I swore to guard it day and night.”

The two of them sat there in silence while Arthur ran the story over and over in his head. The fries that had tasted so good yesterday now tasted like cornmeal in his mouth.

“So, why can I see it? But only in photos?” Arthur asked.

“I’m not the best person to answer that,” Barry said. “You need to speak to the old search and rescue captain, Michael.”

A message popped up on Arthur’s phone. Hurry up with dinner. I think the kids are about to start an uprising.

*

Arthur waited three days before visiting Michael. The only instructions he had received from Barry were that Michael lived in the white house with the green roof and that his wife liked to put pumpkins on the roof. 

Not having a phone number, Arthur rang the doorbell unannounced. 

An older woman with white hair pulled into a messy bun introduced herself as Michael’s wife. Michael had apparently died a year ago. She directed Arthur to the sitting room and asked him if he would like some rooibos tea. 

When he asked what happened to Michael, she said, “For fifty years he rode his boat out into the terrible storms. And then, one day, he was taken out by a drunk driver. There is no justice in this world, Mr Skoons.”

“Do you know anything about the lighthouse, Mrs. …” He had realized that he had forgotten to ask her name, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Lighthouse? No, I’m afraid.”

Arthur looked to the carpet, trying to hide his disappointment.

“But when people did come asking about the lighthouse, Michael would show them his log.” The woman heaved herself up and shuffled towards the bookshelf. She returned to him with an old notebook. On the cover was a crude sketch of a lighthouse with the words Arnold’s Bay, Missing Children.

Arthur flipped through the pages. 

1963.12.12 - Kenny Long, 10 - Sister saw it happen.

1972.11.30 - Stanley Harris, 15 - Disappeared. Presumed lighthouse, as everyone forgot about it soon after.

And then, a bit further on, he saw:

1985.12.15 - Sara, 8, and Tinus Verlang, 15. - Cousins and brother saw it happen.

Arthur flipped further through the book at the names and ages of the children. 

Arthur turned to the last page.

2019.12.20 - Rohan Skoons, 17 - His cousin, Polly, saw it happen.

Arthur stared at the page. His hair stood on end, and he felt ice go down his spine. Five years ago, his brother-in-law and his family joined them at the beach house for the festive season. His niece would have been about 16 at the time. He remembers her sitting around the house, looking morose and not wanting to spend time with anyone. Crying a lot. Everyone assumed it was because she had broken up with her boyfriend. He had even given her one of his skateboards, trying to cheer her up, but she just cried more.

But he was only 43; this Rohan Skoons was too old to be his son. That would mean he and Mary would have had a child when they were twenty. But they had gotten married at twenty. Everyone said it was too early, but they said that they were so in love that it didn’t matter. 

Arthur barely spoke to the woman as he left the cottage. He left his car where it was and walked towards the pier to clear his head. Barry was sitting in his customary spot on the bench, watching. Or rather, guarding.

“I, I saw the names,” Arthur said as he slumped down next to Barry.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, there was tenderness in his voice. “You were so distraught.”

The two of them watched the ocean crash against the pier. A seagull hovered overhead, looking for crumbs.

“Why am I starting to see it?”

“I don’t know. ” Barry admitted. “Everyone stops seeing it as they age, but I think it likes to taunt some people.”

Arthur dug out his phone and searched to see if he still had Polly’s number. She had started babysitting for them five years ago. He pressed the dial button and waited.

“Hi Unlce Arthur, what’s up?” In the background he could hear the sounds of a house party or maybe a braai. 

Her cheerful voice was a contrast to his own. “Can, can you tell me about him?”

There was a long pause. “Rohan?”

“Yes,” he croaked. He put the loudspeaker on. He wasn’t sure why, but it was important for Barry to listen as well.

On the other end of the line, he could hear her moving to another quieter room. 

“Rohan was the coolest nerd you ever met. He had long black curly hair like Aunt Mary, that he loved and that you loved also, but would always threaten to cut off in his sleep.”

She laughed, choking on a sob. Tears started forming in Arthur’s eyes.

“He was a terrible student but really good at art. He used to screenprint his own T-shirts and used the money to buy chocolate. He always had boxes of the stuff hidden somewhere.”

“When he - when he disappeared. It was awful. It was like I was the only one who could see this gaping black hole in the world. Everyone just forgot. Just like that - gone. You even tried to give me his skateboard.”

“He skateboarded?” Arthur asked through a lump in his throat.

“He loved to skateboard. Both of you would cruise around Arnold’s Bay together.”