Gooseberry Island Read Online Free Page B

there.”
    “All by yourself?”
    He nodded. “Why not? There’d be no one around to bother me.” He stared at the lighthouse. “I’ve met Ruth a few times, and she’s not very friendly.”
    “Well, being antisocial is probably a valuable trait for that kind of work. Can you imagine spending that much time alone, confined to one space? It must change a person.”
    “I suppose it might,” David agreed, “depending on where your head’s at.”
    Lindsey shrugged. “She chose the isolation, I suppose.” After a moment, she added, “You’re probably right. I’ve been in a room filled with lots of people and still felt alone.”
    David looked at her and smiled. “I think you have to feel comfortable being alone with yourself before you truly know who you are and can feel comfortable being yourself with others.”
    Lindsey nodded. “Old Ruth rows into town every few months to pick up supplies, but she must live on seafood, mostly. Now that I could do.”
    “Not me,” David said. “I’ve been eating seafood since the day I was born, I think. I could die a happy man if I never ate it again in my life.”
    Lindsey tensed at the word
die
. “There are folks who’ve claimed to smell pipe smoke being carried on the winds from that lighthouse. You think she smokes?”
    David grinned. “Who knows? There’s no one to stop her or complain.”
    Lindsey laughed, happy to daydream aloud about the mysterious place. “Do you think that lighthouse has ever seen any pirates?” she asked, immediately creating pictures of sea shanties being sung and casks of rum being consumed, all followed by the usual pillaging and plundering.
    David laughed. “Drunken men emptying lobster pots that weren’t theirs, maybe, but I can’t imagine that Blackbeard and his bloodthirsty crew have ever sailed these waters.” The closest thing to pirating would have been the local whalers—heavily tattooed, unshaven men from Nantucket and New Bedford—hunting whale bone to create scrimshaw jewelry and ornate pipes.
    He’s right
, Lindsey knew, but it was still fun to imagine it. Just by closing her eyes, she could imagine the sea winds singing in harmony—with gorgeous mermaids trying to seduce seamen into their watery graves or the terrifying howls of invisible sea monsters lurking within the rising swells.
    “What do you think it looks like inside there?” David asked, bringing her back to the present once again.
    She stared off into the distance and smiled. “I’ve always imagined a winding staircase at its center and rooms filled with overstuffed bookshelves springing out.”
    “That sounds nice,” he said, happy to jump into her vivid imagination.
    They sat in silence again, while moonlight carved out a swath of light across the rolling waves, creating an abandoned, dimly lit highway that stretched out to oblivion. The night sky—like a giant, darkened meadow filled with fireflies—glowed and twinkled, shimmering off of the vast turquoise desert below.
    As they gazed up at the constellations together, Lindsey said, “When I was a small girl, my dad used to show me the stars. He’d say that I was the Little Dipper and he was the Big Dipper, looking over me.”
    “Your dad sounds like a great guy,” David said.
    Lindsey smiled. “He is,” she said, volunteering nothing more.
    David looked up and pointed at the North Star. “That looks more like you to me,” he said.
    “Really?” she asked.
    He nodded. “They’re all beautiful, but that one shines the brightest.”
    She looked at him and started to laugh, but he wasn’t trying to be funny or cute.
He’s serious
, she thought.
    David grabbed Lindsey’s hand and held on, surprising her.
    “Can I help you?” she asked, half-joking.
    “I don’t want to get lost,” he joked.
    She looked down at their clasped hands. “You feel safe now?”
    He nodded and never let go of her hand.
    “What about
your
father?” she asked.
    “He’s inspired me my whole life,”