The Little Boy in the Boat

"I'm going to look for help," Tom said softly. "You stay here and keep resting."

"I will," she replied.

"I'll try and be back before dawn, but do not worry if I am not." Thomas picked up one of their pails and emptied it into the other. "I'll bring back fresh water if I find any." He turned to leave, but hesitated. "And I'll never abandon you either."

Abigail smiled. "The thought never crossed my mind."

Thomas at first walked inland, as far as the edge of the forest. He thought he might perhaps find a trail there, along the line of the trees; but there was none.

Tom turned left in order to put what remained of the sunset before him. He proceeded along edge of the forest, into the deepening gloom. His pace was intentionally slow. He stopped often to listen, and to rest.

By the time the stars told him it was time to turn around, Thomas figured he had covered two leagues, three at most. He had encountered no sight, no sound to indicate the land was inhabited.

Tom turned left again, heading toward the shore. He found the terrain back to the beach rougher and steeper than it had been where he had first come inland.

Realizing there were still a handful of useful buckets at their encampment and no stream in between, he dropped the pail he had carried all of the night. Proceeding along the prairie crest, he made his way back toward the girl.

As the morning star rose before him, Thomas thought that each tree would be the one with Abigail beneath it. Every one was but a disappointment to add to a growing concern.

The eastern sky had just begun to grey when Tom rounded a small cape and found what had been his original objective: a light.

And it was not just any light. Thomas recognized at once the narrow, sweeping beam of a lighthouse. He paused, knowing the powerful lamp was likely miles in the distance. There was no way he could get there and back to Abigail before dawn; even if he knew where she was.

With an unpleasant resolve, Thomas decided he could best serve her by not keeping his sunrise appointment. He continued along the coast, toward the ever-distant beacon.

The sun climbed as the Tom trudged onward. He could see as he approached the structure that it was a lighthouse in the strictest sense of the word; not a tower at all, but a simple white frame house with a lantern atop it. The sun was near its zenith before he rapped upon the door.

A young, modestly dressed woman opened the portal. "Oh my!" she gasped upon seeing the bedraggled lad before her. "Are you injured?"

"No," Thomas replied. "Shipwrecked. My..." He paused. "My companion is up the coast. I'm afraid I'm not sure which direction."

"Is he badly hurt?" the woman asked.

"No," Thomas answered. "But she's very weak."

"Oh dear," the woman muttered, putting her fingers to her mouth. "Wait here, please, while I get my husband." She turned and retreated into the home.

Several minutes passed before a ruffling preceded the husband's appearance at the door. The tall, sturdy man stepped out of the building while the woman waited at the threshold. "I'm Elston Perry, the lightkeeper," he announced, extending his hand. "I understand there's been a shipwreck?"

Thomas surveyed the man briefly, noting mostly his bearded face and stern appearance "I'm Thomas," he replied, accepting the other man's hand. "Thomas Frazier. I can explain everything later, but my..." He paused again. "My wife is still along the beach where we came ashore. I'm afraid she can hardly move."

"Are there any other survivors?" asked the lightkeeper.

Thomas shook his head. "No, sir. We lost our ship off of Massachusetts."

"Massachusetts?" Perry stammered.

"Yes, sir," Thomas nodded. "Where are we?"

"Nova Scotia," said the lightkeeper. "How did you come all the way from Massachusetts?"

"Perhaps I can tell you on the way," suggested Thomas. "I told my wife I'd be back before dawn and, as you can see, I'm already quite late."

"Which way is she, lad?" asked Perry.

"I think west," said Tom. "But I'm really not sure. How far can your light be seen inland?"

"Not far at all." said Perry.

"Then she could be either way," admitted Tom.

"Tell me how you came here."

Over the subsequent several minutes, Thomas related the story of his journey through the night and morning.

"Did you see the town?" asked Perry as the lad completed his telling.

"What town?" replied Tom

Perry nodded. "I thought as much. She's west for sure. I'm afraid it's just me and my wife here and I'd much prefer to be back to light the lamp by dusk. In the shape you look to be, I reckon you'd most likely just slow me down."

The man turned to his wife. "Give the lad some soup. Not much mind you and..."

"I know how to take care of folks!" the woman scoffed. "You go and recover the girl now. I'll see to the boy."

"Aye," nodded Elston. "I reckon you do at that. If I'm not back, see that light gets lit."

"You see to the girl!" Mrs. Perry insisted. "We'll see to the soup and the light."

"I'd rather go with you, sir," Thomas objected. "I told her I'd come back myself, you see."

Perry nodded, putting his hand to the lad's shoulder. "I know ya did. But you're in no shape to travel. What say you stay here and take care of my wife while I take care yours?"

Tom could but smile in the face of overwhelming logic, even if he still did not agree with it.

* * *

"Mrs. Frazier. Mrs. Frazier."

Abigail awoke to the sound of her name and the gentle shaking of her shoulder. Her eyes flew wide as she realized the voice was not one with which she was familiar.

"Ah," said the man. "You gave me quite a start lying there like that. I'm Elston Perry, lightkeeper."

"Thomas?" Abigail asked anxiously.

"He's fine," Perry assured her. "Then you are Mrs. Frazier?"

"Yes," the girl replied. " I'm Abigail. So Thomas sent you?"

"In a way, yes," said Perry. "But what say we get moving? We've a good hour and a half walk ahead of us."

Abigail nodded, and started to stand.

"No, lass," the man insisted. "I think it best I carry you." Elston slid one arm behind the girl's shoulder and the other under her knees. With minimal effort, he stood and began the journey home.

"Thank you kindly," Abigail said, draping her arm around the man's neck.

"Sounds like you've had quite an adventure," Elston noted.

"Yes," agreed the girl. "It was quite something, now that I think about it."

"Tom didn't have much time to tell us everything," Perry said. "Perhaps you could fill in the details for me."

"Sure," said Abigail. "What do you want to know?"

"Why don't you just start at the beginning," suggested Perry. "It's a long walk."

Abigail began to recount their adventure at length, omitting only those portions she found too embarrassing to relate.

* * *

Elston still had an hour of daylight to spare when he crested the small plateau that held the lighthouse.

Mrs. Perry hurried across the scattered rocks to meet the pair as they approached. "Bless the stars. Is she alright?"

Elston nodded. "I think so. Some rest and decent food, they'll both be good as new."

"Where's Thomas?" asked Abigail.

"Your husband is resting," said Mrs. Perry. "He had a nice long bath and managed to keep a bit of bread and water down. Poor lad tried to stay awake until you got back, but he fell asleep in a chair. Been snoring like a pig all afternoon."

Thomas did not stir even when the trio entered the home.

Abigail smiled upon seeing her hero, unconsciously reaching out to him with her free hand. Her smile broadened as she noticed his dark tresses lying parallel across his shoulders; she knew he had gone to the trouble to comb them just for her.

Elston declined to relinquish his hold upon the girl. "Best let him rest, young lady." Without pausing for reply, he carried Abigail upstairs and into the washroom. There he set her on a stool next to the bathing tin. "I'll let him know you're here safe if he wakes soon."

"Thank you," replied Abigail in a reserved tone.

"Right, then," said Mrs. Perry. "Off with you Elston. Can't very well bathe a lady with you standing about!"

"Yes, ma'am!" the lightkeeper intoned, retiring from the room. He waited only long enough to hear the sounds of splashing and feminine chatter before steering for the lounge.

"Up with ya, lad," Perry demanded, shaking Thomas roughly by the shoulder.

Tom's eyes blinked open. He sat up with a start. "Abigail?"

"She's fine," Elston assured. "Mrs. Perry is with her. Expect she'll be right presentable when you see her again."

Thomas exhaled deeply as he reclined back into the chair. After taking a moment to collect himself, he rose. "Thank you, sir," he said. "I'm not sure you'll ever know our gratitude."

"Perhaps you'd care to walk with me up to the light," Elston suggested.

"Certainly, sir."

Elston led the younger man up the stairs and into the lantern room that topped the structure, closing the door after they had both entered the tiny chamber.

The lightkeeper scratched his head. "Got a few things that puzzle me, lad," he announced. "Your, uh, wife told me about the whaler and the lecherous crew."

"She did?"

"And the barrel," Perry continued. "But what say you tell me again, just for the record."

"Alright." Thomas took a few moments to collect his thoughts. "Abigail stowed away on my ship. The crew found her and, well, made it obvious they meant to have their way with her. So I arranged a distraction..."

"That would be the fire?"

"Yes," Thomas acknowledged. "Then we went overboard with a barrel and, well, eventually floated here."

Elston tongued his cheek and nodded. "Her version is a bit longer and more colorful. Includes you killing a fellow with an oar to save her virtue?"

Tom's head bobbed in a slow nod. "Yeah. I might've done that too."

"The part I'm missing in this story," said Elston, "is where you two managed to get married."

Tom bit his cheek. "I just thought there'd be less questions that way."

"I see." Mr. Perry produced a pipe from his pocket and began to draw on it as he lit it. "And do you intend to marry her?"

"I don't know."

"Really?" Perry's face lengthened in surprise. "Why not?"

"I'm not sure how she'll feel in a few months," explained Thomas. "Yes, she feels all romantic towards me now, but she's a rich girl and I'm a poor sea rat. I'd like to offer her more than just breaking oars over fellows' heads what would do her wrong."

Elston nodded. "You will, lad."

"What?"

"It's a paradox," Perry explained. "By doubting yourself and considering her first, you show that you're the right man for the job. Conversely, if you didn't have any doubt, well, I'd have to toss you off the roof here and now."

Tom just stared at the older man.

"Alright," Elston chuckled. "I wouldn't throw you off the roof. But I would toss you out of my house; and see that the girl got back to her family where she'd belong." The lightkeeper took a long draw on his pipe. "But I'm sure enough that she belongs with you."

Thomas tilted his head. "How can you be sure?"

Perry turned, looking over his shoulder at the setting sun. "How do you know that's not going to turn around and set in the east tonight?"

Tom considered the seemingly absurd question. "Because it always sets in the west."

"So if something has always happened," Perry inquired, "then you're willing to accept that it will continue to happen?"

"Yes," Thomas replied.

"Good," said Perry. "Marriages have always worked if they have but two things: Trust and Love. Anything else, you can work out. Nothing else matters, not even money."

Thomas cocked his head. "I don't follow you, sir."

Elston ran the backs of his fingers along his bearded neck. "You see, Trust is like the timber and love is like the spark. The spark will die quickly without the timber." The lightkeeper paused for a puff. "Mind you I have seen a few folk do without the spark, but I imagine it must get awfully cold at night."

Thomas twisted his lips in confusion. "So you're saying we got us both of them; love and trust? How can you tell?"

"Love. That's easy; each of you wakes thinking of the other. Trust? Well, she'd have waited on that beach for you to return until the buzzards picked her bones. That's trust. All that's missing is your trust. And you can trust her just as surely as she trusts you."

"I don't?" Thomas shook his head. "I mean, I can? How do you know?"

"Because you're what she's always wanted."

"Me?"

"Yes, you." said Elston sternly. "You, who love her for simply the woman she is. You, who find her attractive instead of her dowry. And she knows you will risk everything, give anything, including your life, for her. What more can any lady want from her man?"

"I don't know why you doubt yourself," continued Perry, "and I really don't care to. But she knows, doesn't she?"

Thomas pressed his lips together as he nodded briskly.

Perry returned the nod, albeit a slower version. "And she has already cast whatever it is aside. As should you, and your doubt with it. She's a wonderful young lady," concluded the lightkeeper, "and you are a man worthy of her. That she thinks so should be enough to convince you even if no one else could see it."

Thomas felt his eyes moisten to the point of overflow. He shifted his gaze to the darkening ocean, trying to remember when he last allowed himself to cry.

Elston took another puff on his pipe. "Our supply ship doesn't come but once a month. It'll arrive next week, but I reckon the both of you probably need to recuperate a bit longer than that. I'm thinking five weeks sounds like about the right amount of time.

"After that, you'll be needing to find a job, most likely in that town up the coast. Was a privateer base during that last war we had with the states. Has quieted down a bit, since then. It's a small fishing village now. Sailor like you though, ought to be able to find work in a fishing village. Right?"

"Right," Thomas agreed.

"Unless you want to go back to whaling," said Elston, "Then you can take the supply ship to Halifax and..."

"No!"

Elston's head moved in an almost imperceptible nod. "Good lad. There'll be some hard work ahead then, for the both of you. So if I was you, I'd enjoy my honeymoon while I could."

"But we're not..."

"I figure any barrel that can carry two people for a fortnight qualifies as a ship," Elston interrupted. "So if whichever one of you was captain of that ship says they married the other, well, that's good enough for me."

Tom head moved once again in a slow nod. "I got no idea how to thank you, sir, for all what you done for us."

Perry gave a nod and a wink. "Reckon you could start by making that wife o' yours happy."

Tom smiled. "That I will."

"Five weeks can go by mighty quick," noted Elston, taking another draw on his pipe. "I wouldn't be wasting a minute of it if I were you."

"Yes, sir!" Thomas bounded down the stairs, reaching the landing before he realized he didn't know where Abigail was. He walked slowly forward, listening for and the locating the sound of voices before resuming his rush.

"There you are!" Mrs. Perry exclaimed as Thomas entered the modest dining area. "We wondered where you'd gotten off to."

"Mr. Perry was just, uh, showing me the light," Tom explained.

"Oh," scoffed Mrs. Perry. "He's so proud of that lamp. Pull yourself up a... oh my, we don't usually have company. Here," the woman hopped from her seat, "take mine."

"No, ma'am," Thomas protested. "I really couldn't."

"Oh, you really must," the woman insisted, steering the lad by his shoulders to the seat. "I need to head upstairs and ready your room. I assume you'll be turning in early tonight."

"Yes, please," nodded Abigail. "We will." She then waited for the lady to depart. "So, husband," she began playfully, "I thought you weren't the marrying type. What changed your mind about being Mr. Frazier?"

"What name was I supposed to pick?" Thomas asked, feigning ignorance.

Abigail gave him a playful jab. "You know that's not what I meant."

"What changed my mind," Tom began with a sigh, "is that I'm not your only choice now."

"What?"

"You're safe. You can go to the town, meet another boy if you want. You don't got to settle for me."

"But I don't want another boy."

"I know."

Abigail cocked her head. "When did you finally figure it out?"

"I guess it was when I realized you hadn't denied you were my wife."

Abigail flashed a broad grin before whispering, "I'm proud to be your wife."

Thomas looked straight into her dark eyes. "I love you, Mrs. Frazier."

"And I love you, Mr. Frazier." Her smile dissolved into a pucker as she began to move her mouth moved toward his.

Mrs. Perry met her husband on the upper floor landing. "Had to show him your old lamp, did you?"

"It's not old!" Elston declared. "And that lens will still look just as good when it is old."

"You shouldn't have been keeping them apart," Mrs. Perry replied. "They're such a cute couple."

"Kind of funny, that," snorted Elston.

"What?"

"Neither of them's much to look at by themselves," the lightkeeper noted. "But, I expect they do look good together."

"Elston!" Mrs. Perry scolded. "Has living on this rock caused you to lose your manners?"

"No," Elston replied.

"Perhaps that lamp has ruined your eyesight then."

"Definitely not," declared the lightkeeper. "I still know a truly pretty woman when I see one; right now for instance."



"I don't think I've ever felt a better bed," Abigail announced, snuggling next to her beloved beneath the covers.

"Even beats the sand," Thomas agreed.

"I don't know," sighed Abigail. "That sand was pretty good too."

"Nothing's as pretty, or as good, as you."

Abigail smiled. She reached down to gently stroke his manhood. "Are you able?"

Thomas took several breaths to decide he was, but she could not possibly be. "No. Maybe tomorrow."

Abigail closed her eyes as she snuggled closer to her husband. "Tomorrow sounds perfect."

Neither of them needed much encouragement to sleep. Soon the young lovers were huddled together beneath the bed linen, each trying to snore more loudly than the other.

In spite of their amorous yearnings, the couple stirred the next morning thinking more of food than sex. By the time they returned to bed slumber was again their reluctant priority. The second day passed in a similar fashion though each could feel their strength, and more, building.

Thomas awoke the third morning to the feel of his wife's lips upon his neck. Blinking, he glanced to the window and the bright sunlight beyond. "What time is it?"

"I don't know," Abigail whispered. "Judging by the shadows, I'd say it's near noon."

Tom rolled over, his hands sliding beneath the sheets to cradle the soft form of his beloved. His palms explored the supple curves of her body through her nightgown.

She squirmed as she felt the affection behind his caress, moaning in a subtle yet seductive whisper. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Mrs. Frazier wants to fuck."

Tom licked his lips. "Are you sure we shouldn't wait a bit more?"

Abigail shook her head. "I've waited long enough. Just go slow."

Thomas needed no additional encouragement. He had waited long enough as well. Ducking beneath the linen, he unlaced her gown and then brought his mouth to her modest bosom. Slowly as he suckled, he slid his free hand down her abdomen, across the furry patch where it had once so brazenly trespassed, and into the treasure beyond.

Abigail cradled his head to her breast as her body trembled with unfettered passions. Her hips pivoted involuntarily, welcoming a probing finger while a thumb began to stimulate her exterior.

Suddenly Tom chuckled.