This brings back so many memories.
The lighthouse, which hasn’t aged throughout my countless years here, casts its heavenly beams to the endless ocean in front of me. Besides this lighthouse lay a ring of rocks of various shapes and sizes that collide with the incoming tide, creating an almost rhythmic and soothing thunderclap that sends salt water flying to whoever lay beside it.
That salt water, the scent, the feeling of it on my face, sends me back to a time where the rocks I sat beside felt a little more nostalgic.
After sitting on a particular rock in this ring, facing the now darkened ocean occasionally lit up by the flashes of the lighthouse for what feels like a few minutes now, I hear someone begin to shuffle towards me.
A little boy, bearing a remarkable resemblance to my little brother from years before, scales the rocks and sits beside me.
“What are you doing?” the boy says to me in a very slow and cold cadence.
“I’m sorry am I disturbing you?”
“No, I was just wondering what you were doing.”
“I just wanted to sit here for a minute.”
A brief silence soon follows. The boy flickers in and out of the flashes between the lighthouse and the darkness beyond him.
“You know I’m going away very soon, and I grew up here practically my whole life, and I have so many good memories here. I just wanted to sit here for a moment and just take stuff in, you know?”
The boy continues to look at the sea. “I love climbing the rocks.”
“Oh definitely, I love it too. Me and my brother used to pretend we were ninjas and bounce off the rocks and stuff, but this rock in particular I always liked.”
“That’s good to know.”
I feel tears well up in my eyes and look away from the boy.
“He uh… he died a little bit ago. And this was usually the spot where we hung out for a bit. I heard a folk tale that when you sit here at a particular time and whatnot you might get to see a spirit. Hopefully it works.”
I force a laugh, and the boy remains silent.
“Kind of sucks cause he had quite the life ahead of him.”
My voice begins to break, and my tears begin to drip.
“I just want to see my little rock buddy again.”
The boy says nothing, his gaze staring out into the great beyond.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m disturbing you but it just feels good to get that off my chest. I’m sorry.”
I get up and look at the boy again, and he slowly begins to fade into nothingness. The ocean roars once again as salt water sprays against my face.
“Till next time, buddy.”
Paul Kippenberger, ’24