Lighthouses
She collected lighthouses. That was the main focus of this vacation. The Outer Banks of North Carolina, Ocracoke, Cape Hatteras, Carrituck Beach, Bode Island, Cape Lookout, they were all a collectors Paradise. There was even the Wright Brothers National Memorial at Kitty Hawk for him. Sounds like a good time! This would only be the second time since their honeymoon that they would vacation without kids. Maybe it would turn into a second honeymoon!
She had spent the day before packing and re-packing until everything she thought they might need fit into the trunk of the car. She had spent weeks before planning the trip, getting the route planned and pouring over brochures. She seemed to get this rush of adrenaline before every trip they took. She felt the need to take command, to ensure they packed everything they could possibly need in every anticipated emergency. She would pour over maps for most of the trip and know where they were and where they were going at all times. When they got to the destination she would pour over the brochures to make sure they had every hour planned for the next day. They didn’t take many vacations. He had never come back from a vacation feeling rested or relaxed. It was his workaholic nature. He couldn’t relax in the close and controlled environment of a car for hours on end without getting something accomplished other than getting from A to B. But this time, he had run out of excuses. This was one of those rare times when the stars in the cosmos had perfect alignment. The money was there, the time was available, and the kids’ schedule permitted their absence. Besides she deserved the time off!
He loaded bag after bag in the trunk, all the while wondering what two people could possibly need for a week that could weigh so much and take up so much space! Excess baggage, we all have excess baggage. Hers fit in the trunk of the car. His fit in the palm of his hand in the form of a cell phone that would ensure he didn’t loose contact with (or control of) his world left behind. Two control freaks embarking on an odyssey to try and diffuse the tension and volatility that was their union.
After thirty-plus years he knew the routine. He would drive the first shift while she unwound from the preparation frenzy and wondered for the next 100 miles if she locked the door or turned off the toaster. Interstates rolled by. Flat land turned into mountains, mountains into flat lands. She talked and he pretended to listen. He slept or watched the scenery while she drove. She rested or talked while he drove. He didn’t talk much. He was quiet by nature and hadn’t felt the need to express for years around her. After all, he hadn’t needed to finish a sentence in her presence for a long time because she did it for him! There seemed to be an ever-present tension in the air between them. Maybe the vacation would help.
As they reached their destination the four lanes turned into two. The capillaries that fed the interstate arteries wound through countryside towns and small villages. The seagulls could be seen silver and white in the midday sun. The atmosphere turned to ocean, and resorts, and tourists and their money. The vastness of the ocean came into view beyond the people littered beaches. They had arrived!
They settled into the first of many hotels. It seemed they changed hotels every night. It just seemed to work out like that on their vacations. They had a routine. They would stop at a place a little off the beaten path that should be a little cheaper and more available. She would grab brochures and talk to the clerk about tourist things while he listened and waited for the key. On the last night though, they broke with tradition and decided to get a room with an ocean front view. They had already experienced the vertigo of looking straight down from the lookout of a lighthouse. They had stood on the rails that propelled the Wrights into history and changed the world forever. They had visited 5 lighthouses and experienced sand and sun the history of the Outer Banks for days! They were exhausted!
The room was nice. It had a hot tub with a complimentary bottle of Champagne, a little two-chair balcony that overlooked the ocean, not the beach, just the ocean. A large man made sand dune obstructed the beach. When the ocean pounded its angry fists of water on the shore in a rage during a hurricane the dunes were necessary to protect the fragile buildings cowering on the other side. Oh well, what do you expect for $200? He went out on the balcony to call and check on the real estate deal that was falling apart. She sat on the bed, turned on the lights, checked the bathroom, and did all the other stuff he knew she would do before settling in. He came back in with a scowl on his face. There was bad news on the business front. He would have to deal with it as soon as they returned. What a pity, he had almost started to relax and enjoy himself. That seemed to be his lot in life, at least in his mind.
They spent the afternoon at the beach. He wasn’t much of a beach person and neither was she. There was always too much hot sand, hot sun and lobster red people. The ocean was cooling, though, and the sound of the surf and the breeze tempered his mood. They showered and went for a bite to eat. When they returned the sun had disappeared and the heat of the day had been replaced with the cool of the ocean breeze. As they stood on the balcony leaning on the rail it occurred to him that a walk on the beach would be nice. After all, they had to get their money’s worth out of this room! They could use the hot tub and drink the champagne later. As they made their way along the wooden catwalk to the ocean, tall grasses swayed slightly in the night shadows. The boards creaked as they climbed the steps to the top of the dunes. They hesitated for a moment. They could feel the warmth radiating from the sand from the day’s relentless sun. As they stepped onto the beach they could see the tiny inhabitants of the night sand scurry in frustrated anger at the disturbance of their nightly routine. The water heaved slowly as if in a deep ream sleep. The ocean breath caressed their cheeks as a lover’s touch. Off in the distance a pier jutted into the ocean. The flash of bottle rockets exploded in the distance. They saw flash but heard no sound. They were engulfed in silence, blessed peaceful silence. They were the only two people in the universe. Time was irrelevant. The full moon lighted their path, shimmering on the water. The only clouds in the night sky were holding the moon as if the very Hands of God were presenting it! It seemed to be low enough that a man could reach up and touch the glowing orb! The sleeping water lapping at their feet seemed to wash away the cares of the world. Their souls were free to dance as they did in happier times! Oh, if it could only last forever!
As all things must end, so did this magical time and this magical place. They found themselves at the entrance (Exit) to paradise. As they reached the landing they paused and looked at each other. Had this really happened or was it all a dream? It didn’t seem to matter as they walked hand in hand back to their reality!
Author Daniel L. Fulton
Jan. 2004