Digest>Archives> May 1998

Endeavor's Secret

By John Torre

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The cry of a lone gull echoed across the dark and desolate beach. Billy Tobias's friend, Donald, sat on a cancerous piece of driftwood and shifted nervously. "Let's get out of here, Billy. This place gives me the creeps."

"No. I have to find out if it's true."

"C'mon, man. We've heard stories about the ghost of Pingry Point since we were kids, for Pete's sake. It's a folktale."

"Maybe, maybe not. You read what my grandfather wrote in his diary." He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out his grandfather's diary, and reread the final entry:

The ghost of Pingry Point is Robert Tobias, a seaman and ancestor of our family.

A sound came from further down the beach. "What's that?" asked Billy.

"Probably a stray dog," answered Donald. "I'm going back to the boardwalk. You coming?"

"No."

"Believe what you want, man. I'll see you later."

Billy watched as Donald's shadowy figure gradually dissipated into the night.

Then he heard it again. A desperate moan, coming from further down the beach near the Pingry Point Lighthouse. Billy peered through the moonlit darkness, his senses acute, but heard only the relentless pounding of the surf. He pushed his hair from his eyes. Behind him, the brash commercialism of Oceanside Heights's boardwalk, its neon lights and blaring music, beckoned. He looked at the diary. Could it be true, he wondered? Was it just coincidence grandpop died the day after it was written?

Another despondent moan jarred him from his thoughts. He whirled around to face the forbidding darkness.

Nothing.

Compelled by the puzzling last entry, he followed the shoreline toward Pingry Point. The dark silhouette of the old lighthouse loomed above him insidiously, as if the stone cylinder held the tragic secrets of all who had perished on the shoals and rocks that lay below it. An overgrown path led to the weathered door of the tower. Billy tried the tarnished brass knob. It was locked.

"Do something for you?"

Billy's breath escaped in a rush as he spun around at the sudden voice.

An old man stood there, his dark and sullen eyes regarding Billy suspiciously. A tattered peacoat hung loosely around his gaunt body. A long knife, sheathed in leather, hung from his belt. A stubble of grey beard protruded from a road map of wrinkles that lined his face, like weeds sprouting from cracks in a sidewalk. His face sounded like coal tumbling down a tin chute. "I say again boy...something you looking for?"

"I...uh, heard a moan...thought someone was in trouble." Billy tried to still his shaking knees.

The old man's lips pulled back in a repulsive smile. "Only trouble around here is you, young fellow." His eyes narrowed as he stroked a tattered black bandanna he wore around his neck. "You and the captain, that is."

"The captain?" inquired Billy.

"That's right...Captain Tobias."

Billy stiffened. "Who is he?"

"A pirate!" snapped the old man. "Nearly three hundred years ago he was running from the Royal Navy, looking for a place to bury his gold, when his ship ran aground on the rocks. Now, whenever the moon is full, his spirit roams this beach looking for his gold and moaning its loss." The old man's long, thin fingers again massaged the black bandanna. "Heed my warning boy...stay away if you know what's good for you."

Billy slipped around the old man and retreated down the path. Once on the beach, he started back toward Oceanside Heights, trying to collect his thoughts. So Robert Tobias was a pirate! Maybe Donald was right, he thought, this wasn't such a good idea. The old man could've been crazy, if not outright dangerous. If he had suddenly reached for that knife-

The ground abruptly started to shake. At first Billy thought earthquake, but he felt the disturbance as much in the air as under his feet. Nesting sea gulls shot out of nearby brambles, squawking a warning as they took to the sky.

The wind grew stronger. The waves intensified, rolling in one after another...looming larger and larger. Billy scrambled to keep from being washed over.

Then a wave came so high it resembled a dark rolling mountain of churning water. It angled toward Billy and crashed to the surf with a deafening roar. An explosion of water shot skyward, blanketing the night in white spray. A churning foam raced up the inclined shore, pulling water from the sea, forming itself.

Becoming...

Billy stood mesmerized as the transformation took place. Rocks, pebbles and shells were pulled into the agitating froth. It gurgled and churned with a vehemence, rising vertically from the sand.

First, a perfectly formed pair of boots...

Then legs...

The coalescing amalgam continued building upward. Billions of effervescent bubbles; having substance...taking form.

Stomach and chest...

Then shoulders, neck, and head...

A complete man.

One exquisite form, from the knee length tunic he wore to the furrows lining his brow. His hair, made of thousand of fine water strands, swayed from side to side as he turned his head. His eyes were bright and defined, like an invisible mold had been filled with water...and given life.

The waterman looked at his hands, palm first, studying the finely etched creases, then the other side. He curled and extended his fingers several times, as if amazed at their dexterity. He looked up and stared at the full moon for several moments before he finally directed his attention to Billy. "What business have you with the lighthouse keeper?"

Billy wanted to get up and run, but his body wouldn't respond to his mind's commands. The sight of the waterman both terrified and exhilarated him.

"WHY DO YOU SEEK HIM?"

"I-I don't know any lighthouse keeper."

"The man you spoke with at the lighthouse is its keeper."

"I was searching for Robert Tobias," uttered Billy.

"Then I am what you seek." The waterman glided up the incline. "I am bound to this shore till the truth is revealed. Return to the lighthouse and you will be shown. In the light lies the secret of my endeavor."

The waterman dissipated and fell to the shore. The wind and waves suddenly subsided as the night slipped back into normality. Billy watched the water that had a moment ago formed itself into a man gently roll back to the sea. He thought of his grandfather's words, and the old man's warning at the lighthouse.

In the light lies the secret of my endeavor.

Had he just spoken with the ghost of Robert Tobias? Billy decided that an entity powerful enough to form itself from water merited investigation.

He started back toward Pingry Point. The lighthouse stood tall and dark before him. Billy took the path back up to the door and tried the knob. To his surprise, the door creaked open.

The air laid thick inside, damp and musty like a tomb, Billy imagined. He crossed the floor and climbed a spiral staircase that wound up through the tower and in to the control room. An old desk and chair, covered with dust and mildew, sat to one side, a chest and ragged cot against the other. A ladder jutted through a circular cutout in the ceiling. Billy climbed it, bringing his head and shoulders into the lens room.

Huge wooden beams, anchored into the stone walls of the tower, supported the giant light. The parabolic reflectors, mounted in rectangular panels around the light, had tarnished with age. Billy sensed the power of their past illumination.

He backed down the ladder and opened a door that led to an iron walkway encircling the exterior. A strong ocean breeze, fresh with the scents of salt air, whistled across him, while far below, the pounding and washing sounds of the surf droned on.

Billy eased himself around the walkway. Toward the north, the flashing lights of Oceanside Heights' boardwalk lit up the night. Beyond that, the lights of the bridge linking the barrier islands with the mainland. Rows of vacation cottages dotted the landscape. He faced the sea and called out, "What is your secret, Captain? Tell me what I'm looking for."

Billy leaned forward and stared across the water, blinking his eyes. A dark expanse approached the lighthouse, like a black hole in the night sky. As it overcame the tower. Billy felt no wind rushing across his face. No sounds of crashing waves.

Only silent darkness.

Suddenly, a light above him cut through the blackness. The beacon had come on, illuminating the reflectors. The lights from Oceanside Heights' boardwalk, there moments ago, had vanished. The lights from the bridge and rows of cottages were gone as well. All Billy saw was the shoreline and forsaken wilderness.

He scurried back around the walkway and through the door to the control room. Two lit candles hung on the wall, giving the room a warm glow. The floor was swept and the air smelled sweet. The desk and chair looked new, and the cot's blanket lay neatly folded and tucked. Billy stopped short at the sight of the two men across the room.

The old man sat talking to a large, robust fellow with an incredibly wild beard. A pistol dangled from each side of the large man's belt. Neither had detected him, and he listened from his position near the door. The large man spoke in a loud and powerful voice. "So can I count on you, Nathaniel? What will it be?"

"Aye, Captain Teach, just tell me what I'm to do."

"Good! Jolly good!" the large man slapped him across the back. Listen carefully, Nathaniel. Soon, the merchant ship Endeavor will pass by Pingry Point. Robert Tobias is her captain. Tobias is unfamiliar with the rocks that lay off the point and will depend on the tower's light to guide him. Shut down the light when you see the Endeavor by naked eye. By then it will be too late for Tobias. When he runs aground, my crew and myself shall board her."

"And what is it that she carries, Captain?" asked the old man with a sly grin.

"Her hold is full of gold, Nathaniel...gold from the Carribean. You shall be justly rewarded for your services."

"I accept your proposition, Captain. It will be my honor to serve you. Before this night is over, Tobias will know what it means to feel the wrath of Blackbeard."

Billy's jaw dropped.

"Very good, Nathaniel, very good. Take this small bag of gold coins to seal our agreement. More will follow, Nathaniel...much more." Blackbeard placed a bag on the desk in front of the old man and the two shook hands.

"Murderer!" cried Billy as he ran out from his vantage point. "It was all a lie - Captain Tobias wasn't looking for a place to bury his gold...he was killed and robbed by Blackbeard with your help."

Billy grabbed the bag of coins off the desk as the blackness suddenly returned and engulfed the lighthouse.

When the sounds of the wind and waves returned, Billy stood alone. The light in the lens room stood cold and dormant. The candles that adorned the walls had disappeared, and the desk and chair lay under a thick blanket of dust. Still holding the bag of gold coins, he looked through one of the windows. The lights from Oceanside Heights' burned brightly. "The waterman is Captain Tobias," said Billy, "and Endeavor's secret is that it wasn't a pirate ship after all. The lighthouse keeper sold him out to Blackbeard...and these coins are the proof!"

"I've searched for those a long time, boy."

The old man approached Billy out of nowhere, his face drawn, his eyes yellow and lifeless. A rancid odor filled the room. "Everything went as planned. The Endeavor ran aground and Blackbeard boarded her. Killed Tobias and his crew, took their gold. Then he came back for me. Behold what I got for my services...."

The old man ripped off the black bandanna. A gaping wound crossed his throat from ear to ear. "This is how Blackbeard repaid me," he snarled. "Now give me my gold."

Billy turned and ran for the door to the walkway. "This gold belongs to Captain Tobias!" He threw the bag over the railing and into the crashing surf below.

The lighthouse keeper roared. He came forward, knotted his bony fingers around Billy's throat, and brought him to the railing's edge. "It appears you also belong to Tobias." The old man released Billy over the edge. Billy, frantic and scared, locked his fingers onto the old man's peacoat and pulled him over the railing. Together, they plummeted toward the ground.

Like a room plunged into darkness by the throw of a switch, the blackness returned, and Billy felt himself floating -held aloft by an unseen force - in a world devoid of sound and rushing wind. Suddenly Captain Tobias materialized - an ephemeral image suspended before him - shimmering against the black void.

"Begone Nathaniel," commanded Tobias, "Blackbeard awaits you in the depths of hell. Endeavor's secret is finally known." The Captain transmuted into a dark mass of churning foam and converged on the old man's body in an aquatic cyclone. The old man's wretched cried pierced the silent darkness as he writhed and contorted in anguish. Billy felt himself being drawn from the ghastly immersion -pulled from the blackness - and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he found himself standing at the water's edge watching the surf pound the rocks below the lighthouse. There was no sign of the Captain or the old man, and the night, once again, seemed normal.

"Thank you."

Billy jumped. Captain Tobias stood behind him, glistening. "My bonds to this shore have been broken through your search for the truth." He extended his hand. "I will not forget you."

Billy found the waterman's grip firm and sure. "And I most certainly can say the same," he replied with a smile. "My name is Billy Tobias."

"I know who you are. Only one from my bloodline could discover the truth to free me."

"But...my grandfather's diary..."

Captain Tobias smiled and nodded his head.

Billy reached back and took the diary from his back pocket. He opened to the last entry...and stared at a blank page. When he looked up, Captain Tobias had disappeared.

The lighthouse beacon high above him suddenly burned brightly, illuminating the shoals off Pingry Point as it had done for so many years. Billy thought he saw the dark, grey outline of a tall ship heading toward the open sea. He wondered if the light had come on once more to guide the way for a man its keeper had wronged so long ago.

"Farewell," he said, as he slipped the diary back into his pocket. He began walking back to Oceanside Heights. What a story he had to tell, but Donald would never believe him.

This story appeared in the May 1998 edition of Lighthouse Digest Magazine. The print edition contains more stories than our internet edition, and each story generally contains more photographs - often many more - in the print edition. For subscription information about the print edition, click here.

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