The Light Keeper's Daughter
When Lynn Harrington visited the small island off the coast of Massachusetts, she was reminded of the last time she had traveled there—more than sixty years earlier—and of the last time she had seen Georgina Dyer. The two women met in 1942, just months after the devastating attack on Pearl Harbor. The world was at war, and Lynne was torn between a desire to serve her country and the need to support her widowed mother. After much soul-searching, the young woman chose family loyalty over patriotism. Thus, despite an overwhelming desire to enlist in the WAVES and help nurse wounded heroes in Europe or the Pacific, Lynne took a job in the Laurel Springs Home for the Aged. It proved to be a fateful choice, for it was where she met Miss Dyer, a woman who was to change her life and profoundly alter her beliefs ....
Many of the residents at the nursing home suffered from a variety of physical ailments: heart disease, arthritis, hardening of the arteries, diabetes and the like. Some were afflicted with mental or emotional conditions. Regardless of the state of their health, all patients had to endure the plights that routinely plagued the elderly: loneliness and boredom. In most cases, relatives visited infrequently, if ever. Georgina Dyer had it worse than most since she had no family or friends to visit her. She was all alone, living in a world of memories populated by ghosts of people she once knew and loved.
Although the nurses in the home tried not to get too attached to the residents in their care, Lynne could not help feeling a special fondness for the eighty-two-year-old woman. Often, after she went off duty in the evening, Lynne would visit Georgina and read to her or just have a conversation over a cup of tea.
Like so many people her age, the old woman frequently had difficulty with her memory. She would sometimes forget that F.D.R. was in the White House, that the U.S. was at war with Germany and Japan and that the country was recovering from the economic depression of the Thirties. Lynne often had to remind her that Prohibition had been repealed and that women had been given the right to vote.
Yet even though the octogenarian could not always recall the name of the commander-in-chief, Georgina had not lost the memories she cherished most: those of her father, of their life on the island and of her all-too-brief romance with Dorian Newkirk. She treasured those memories and refused to share them with anyone, not even the young nurse, of whom she had grown quite fond. That was why it came as quite a surprise to Nurse Harrington when one day another resident mentioned Miss Dyer's past.
"I knew Georgina way back when," the old man told Lynne. "Must have been sixty years ago. I was working on a trawler out of Gloucester at the time. Occasionally, the captain would stop at the island so the crew could get a bite to eat at her father's restaurant."
The old man chuckled at the memory.
"Sometimes I wonder if it was the father's clam chowder that drew fisherman to the restaurant or the pleasure of seeing Georgina."
"I take it Miss Dyer was pretty?" the nurse asked.
"Finest looking woman north of Boston. She could have had her pick of any man on Cape Ann and the islands—myself included."
"Why didn't she marry any of them?"
The elderly resident turned toward the window and stared out at the blue Atlantic in the distance.
"Because some people fall in love once and never get over it."
Lynne wondered about the man Georgina once loved. Had he returned her affections? If so, why had they never married? She did not ask the old man for an explanation since it might be construed as gossip. Neither did she ask Georgina herself. What if the man she loved had jilted her? Lynne had no desire to needlessly open old wounds simply to satisfy her own curiosity. There might, however, be a roundabout way of getting the information.
Georgina brightened considerably when she saw the nurse had brought her a slice of apple pie.
"What a dear you are!" she exclaimed.
"My mother baked this from her own recipe."
As the elderly woman ate the pie, Lynne sat in the chair beside her.
"I met an old friend of yours yesterday," the nurse said.
"Oh? Who?"
The man's name did not ring any bells.
"He told me he was a fisherman and that he used to eat at your father's restaurant."
Georgina put her fork down, apparently having lost her appetite for apple pie.
"Oh? A lot of fishermen and sailors stopped by when they were on the island. I can't be expected to remember them all."
It was the first time Lynne had ever seen the old woman in a cantankerous mood. Furthermore, her efforts to cheer Georgina up were unsuccessful.
"It's getting late," the nurse finally announced, making a point of looking at her watch. "I'd better be getting home."
For the first time since Lynne had met her, the old woman did not try to convince her to stay awhile longer.
* * *
Months passed. In the face of the ongoing world war, Lynne lost interest in Georgina's love life. Men, women and children were dying, cities were being leveled and battles were being waged on land, on the sea and in the air.
In the summer of 1942, Lynne Harrington met a naval officer who was serving aboard the U.S.S. Princeton. In a few short weeks, the two fell in love. When the young man returned to active duty in the Pacific, Lynne joined the ranks of loyal women who waited every day for an airmail letter from a loved one.
Georgina, meanwhile, was growing more infirm over time. She seldom took part in the group activities at the nursing home and would often spend hours alone in her room, staring out her window in the direction of the island. Lynne continued to visit her, but these visits were shorter, fewer and further between. If Georgina noticed any difference, she did not mention it.
On one visit, the nurse was much more animated than usual.
"You seem to be in a good mood today," Georgina noted.
"I got a letter from my boyfriend yesterday," Lynne explained. "He asked me to wait for him. He hopes that when he returns from the Pacific I'll be his wife."
"And will you?" the old woman asked, even though the look on the nurse's face left little doubt.
"Oh, yes! There's nothing I want more than to be Mrs. Wylie Seaver."
A smile appeared on Georgina's face, but it was one tinged with sadness.
"I once felt the same way. Being in love is the most precious thing in the world. Treasure it always."
"I will, Miss Dyer."
Neither woman spoke of the threat the war posed to Lynne's happiness. Still, it was there in the room with them like an uninvited guest lingering in the shadows.
* * *
For the next fourteen months, Lynne continued to bask in the euphoria of young love and the prospect of living happily ever after. Then in October 1943, the airmail letters abruptly stopped arriving.
Georgina noticed the change in her nurse's demeanor almost immediately.
"What's wrong?" the elderly woman inquired.
Weeping, Lynne told her that she had not received word from Ensign Seaver in over three weeks.
"I'm so frightened. What if Wylie ...?"
She could not express her fears in words.
"You mustn't give up hope," Georgina urged. "You must keep believing that your young man will return to you."
"I wish to God I could, but I had a terrible premonition."
"Nonsense!" the old lady barked. "Quit talking about premonitions and keep your wits about you."
"But you don't understand what I'm going through."
"You think not?" Georgina asked, her voice cracking with suppressed emotion. "I know just what you're feeling right now because I've been in your shoes."
Lynne waited for her to explain. After several minutes of awkward silence, Georgina continued.
"When I was a little girl, my father was the head light keeper at the Green Harbor light station. Not long after I turned sixteen, he retired from the Lighthouse Service, and we moved to a small house on the island. There my father opened a small stand where he sold homemade clam chowder. Business was so good that soon the stand was replaced by a restaurant. Perhaps you've heard of the Outrigger?"
"Yes. I've eaten there several times. It's one of the most popular spots on the island."
"It was the only place on the island back then. During the summers, I used to work ten hours a day, waiting on the customers. But I didn't mind. I loved the sea and the men who sailed on it."
"One in particular, I assume."
The old woman's eyes brightened, giving her face a more youthful appearance.
"Dorian Newkirk. He was the most handsome man I'd ever seen: dark hair, blue eyes and a smile that could melt an iceberg. Everyone liked Dorian. He was friendly, kind, generous, fun-loving—I could go on extolling his virtues for hours, but suffice it to say, he was a wonderful man. And I loved him with all my heart."
Georgina reached for the Bible on her night table. She opened the worn, leather cover and took out the faded photograph that she kept between the yellowed pages.
"That was my Dorian," she announced wistfully.
"He was a good-looking man," Lynne agreed.
"We became engaged and were planning on getting married in November of 1882. I couldn't wait! My father had found a small house for us on the island, and after we were wed, Dorian was going to work at the restaurant and eventually take over the business from my father."
Georgina fell silent again, and Lynne had to prompt her to continue.
"What happened then?"
"Dorian wanted to keep fishing until the day of the wedding. One morning in late September, he went out aboard the Peabody and never came back. Every morning and evening, before and after I went to work at the restaurant, I walked out to the end of the point to search the horizon for a sign of the Peabody."
"Was there ever any official word of the ship?"
"No. It vanished without a trace, but it has long been believed that she sank in the Grand Banks."
"I'm so sorry," the nurse said.
"I never gave up hope that Dorian would return to me. Year after year, I continued walking out to the point twice a day until finally, when I was seventy-eight, I slipped on a wet rock and broke my leg. That was when I was sent here—supposedly for my own good."
"But after all that time, you didn't honestly believe Dorian Newkirk would return, did you?"
"I know he will, and if I ever manage to get out of this damned place, I'll find a way back to the island, and I'll wait for him on the point."
* * *
Days passed and Lynne agonized over the unknown fate of her "unofficial" fiancé. There was still no letter and no mention of the Princeton in The Seafarer News. She would have sought comfort from Georgina, possibly the only woman in Green Harbor and Seaview who knew the depth of her misery, but the old woman had not been feeling well. In fact, the staff doctor believed it was only a matter of weeks before she passed on.
Lynne had often heard that not knowing a loved one's fate was worse than the certainty of death. She had even foolishly believed it was true once, but that was before she learned that the Princeton had been sunk in a fierce battle off Surigao Straits. Ensign Wylie Seaver was gone! He would never return to her; they would never be married. Like Georgina Dyer, she had lost the man she loved to the sea.
* * *
Although it was her scheduled day off, Lynne dressed and went to the nursing home to visit Georgina. She could not bear being alone with her grief or, worse, being with her friends and family whose compassionate faces could not mask the pity beneath.
"What are you doing here today?" the head nurse asked when Lynne walked through the front door.
"I came to see how Miss Dyer is feeling," she lied. "I've been worried about her."
"She's not any better, I'm afraid. I doubt she'll last much longer."
In a way, Lynne envied her patient. For Georgina, the heartache and pain would soon be over, while for Lynne, they had only just begun.
The nurse opened the door to the old woman's room and went inside.
"Miss Dyer? Are you awake?"
"Yes," Georgina answered with a weak, exhausted voice.
Lynne went to the patient's bedside and took her hand. The elderly woman looked up into the nurse's troubled eyes and immediately surmised the reason for the visit.
"It's your young man, isn't it?"
Lynne nodded her head and then burst into tears. As the nurse sobbed, the old woman tried to comfort her.
"Oh, my poor, poor dear, you needn't grieve so. I'm sure you'll see him again—someday."
"That's impossible! His ship went down."
"You wait and see. One day, perhaps decades from now, your fiancé will come back to you."
A sudden, agonizing pain gripped the old woman's chest, and she gasped.
"Miss Dyer, are you all right?" Lynne asked. "Let me get the doctor."
"No!"
"But you're having some kind of attack. You need medical attention."
Georgina tugged the nurse's hand and cried, "You're the only one who can help me. You're the only one who knows what I've been going through these past sixty years."
Lynne feared that Miss Dyer wanted to end her own life and expected the nurse to assist her.
"I'm truly sorry, but there's nothing I can do for you."
"Yes, there is. I want you to take me to the island."
Lynne's face paled at the thought of such a foolish action.
"I can't!" she insisted. "You're not allowed to leave the grounds."
"I'll probably be dead in less than a week. What will it matter then?"
"I could lose my job."
Georgina let go of the younger woman's hand and turned to face the wall.
"You're right, of course. I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble on my account."
When Lynne saw the worn photograph of Dorian Newkirk lying on the table beside the bed, she abruptly and inexplicably changed her mind.
"Come on," she told the old woman. "I'll help you get dressed."
On the ferry ride to the island, Georgina had two more stabbing pains. Her heart, the old woman assumed, was finally wearing out. She only hoped she would live long enough to make it to the end of the point.
Lynne, meanwhile, was having second thoughts about the impromptu trip. She had acted rashly rather than dispassionately, as a healthcare worker should. She would not only lose her job, but she might even face criminal charges. Still, when the ferry docked, Lynne drove to the far side of the island. No sooner had she parked the car than Georgina opened the passenger door and got out.
"Wait for me," the nurse shouted as the elderly woman headed for the rocky trail that led out to the point.
"Isn't that a ship?" Georgina cried, pointing to a speck on the horizon.
Lynne protectively put her arm around the old woman's waist, fearful that Georgina would fall and injure herself.
"Why don't we stand here?" she asked. "We can see all the ships that enter and leave the harbor from this spot."
"No. I want to go out to the end of the point. It's where I used to wave to Dorian whenever the Peabody put in."
"But this path can be treacherous. And someone your age ...."
The old woman would not be deterred. With only three missteps, Georgina, with the aid of her nurse, walked out to the lookout point.
"It is a boat!" she cried with joy, as the tiny speck grew larger. "And it looks as though it's headed this way."
Time seemed to stand still while the two women, shivering in the chilly autumn wind, waited on the point and watched the boat draw nearer. Lynne, who had much better eyesight than her elderly companion, was able to see the derelict that floated into the harbor before Georgina did.
There was no sound of an engine. The boat, which looked as though it had challenged a vicious nor'easter and lost, was moving with the tide. Despite the extensive damage done to the ship, Lynne could clearly make out the name: it was the Peabody, which had been lost at sea since 1882. The young nurse was stunned into silence until the sight of the skeletal figure at the helm made her scream.
"Dorian!" Georgina cried.
It was the last word she would ever utter. Moments later she suffered a massive coronary and collapsed on the rocks.
* * *
After the ambulance had taken the old woman's body away and Lynne relayed her story to the police, she sat in her car, crying and blaming herself for Georgina's death. Why had she taken the old woman out of the nursing home? What was she thinking?
For nearly an hour, the nurse sat behind the wheel of her car weeping, oblivious to the people around her, when suddenly a blast from a boat's horn commanded her attention. She turned toward the mouth of the harbor and saw the Peabody—not the wreck she had witnessed earlier but a fine, well-maintained vessel—headed out to sea. On the deck were two young lovers, standing arm in arm, waving in her direction.
When Lynne squinted to get a better look, she recognized the handsome young man from the old photograph Georgina had kept in her Bible: it was Dorian Newkirk. Standing beside him, a beautiful, young Georgina Dyer blew a kiss to the nurse. Moments later the ship, its crew and its passenger disappeared from view ...
Lynne Harrington, although now well into her eighties, clearly remembered every detail of that incredible day. She had relived the eerie encounter with the ghostly Peabody over and over in her mind. The final sight of Georgina Dyer reunited with the man she loved had sustained her through all the trials of her own life, had given her strength and had made her believe in something greater than the world in which she lived.
"Sister!" a voice called from the doorway of a seaside coffee shop. "Sister Lynne, what are you doing out on those rocks?"
"Just taking a journey back in time," Lynne replied when she joined Sister Mary Frances, a fellow nun from St. Michael's Hospital.
"I hope it was a pleasant trip," the younger woman said.
"It was."
Sister Lynne did not look back toward the point as she headed to the ferry boarding area. She had no reason to say goodbye to Georgina Dyer and Dorian Newkirk, for she was sure that someday she would see them both again. She was also certain that she would be reunited with Wylie Seaver just as Georgina had been reunited with the man she loved. The sight of the Peabody returning from its watery grave had given her the faith to believe.
Salem likes to wait for the fishermen to come back to port, especially those who give him free samples.
