Prequel

Doreen didn't know what she was doing on that flight. Sure, she had planned it, booked the ticket, packed her bags, paid with her own credit card. Mechanically. But the Why of this trip eluded her. Why did she arrange her life just to visit some remote valley in a South American country most people had never heard of. And this valley wasn't even on any map other than some uncharted forest. Not really even a tourist destination.

Yet, she had figured all this out and was going there alone. By herself. And she'd never done anything like this before.

For all she knew, this was a one way flight, since her reasoning told her that nothing existed there except indigenous natives and corporate stooges bent on exploiting them. Or maybe huge cocaine fields where drug-running, armed cartels are running rough-shod over the populace in order to get whatever it was that made the drug - oh, it's coca leaves or something like that. Like she knew.

All she knew is this is something she just had to do. No choice.

It had started with simple dreams that started coming back every night. Same one. And the more she thought about it, the worse it got.

There was this statue that was surrounded by forest. One side of it was black and the other white. It glowed and seemed to move in her dream. She sat, captivated and unable to move, waiting for it to speak and tell her the truth of all existence. In her dream the skies darkened and the rain stormed around her, but she just sat. The thunder increased until it sounded like it was right behind her - she finally tore her eyes away from the statue to see a wall of water rise way over her head.

And she always woke at that point, drenched in her own perspiration.

It was that jewelry someone had sent her. Some ancient relative who visited her East Coast parent's home once or twice when she was small. The note said that it was her time now to care for this jewelry. That if she ever felt she needed to know more about it, just to visit this valley - and then told the directions to get there.

Doreen had kept the note out of curiosity. It had been written on hand-made paper, in dialect-ridden English with what looked to be a fountain pen or maybe even a cut quill - but definitely from free ink, not a ball point or something else. The person had taken the time to create that message which seemed an anachronism of crafting in these times.

But it wasn't just one person - two people actually wrote the note. The first was a relative she had never met, who actually had been the jewelry's owner all this time. Well, it was an heirloom she had gotten from an ancient relative of hers. The second author was her great-grand-niece, who said that her aunt had told her to get this to me just before she died. Some cryptic comment about she had gotten a dream that I was the next in line. And this second author had put the note in with the package to send it to me. It was her handwriting on the label.

Of course the jewelry was incredible. A small carefully matched set of stones, one-half white and one-half black. So tightly finished that it looked as if it were a single stone. All tied together with platinum and gold wires, braided in an endless band around them. A simple leather thong went through the top of it, long enough to hang around her neck.

When Doreen put it on, she noticed that it was too long and actually hung down between her breasts. So she untied it and trimmed the leather to make it fit higher and show off it's beauty. Then she put it back in the hand-carved box it was sent in, as she didn't often "go native" when she went out dining with friends. She did like the feel of it and so picked it up one day just to see how it was made, then put it around her neck with the idea of seeing what she had that would match it.

The odd thing was that it was the same length as before.

Since she couldn't wear it like that, she took the thong out and replaced it with a silver chain about the same color as the platinum. And it hung better, showing off the beautiful setting. As she was going out that night, she decided to wear it around the house to get used to it. Since she was housecleaning, Doreen only wore some cut-off sweats, which seemed incongruous with such fine jewelry around her neck. But there was no one to see her, so it was just one of her little jokes to herself. She ran the vacuum and dusted and put things away to neaten everything up.

She was going out with the girls from work that night and cooked herself a little high-protein meal to fill her up - and hopefully absorb the alcohol these ladies liked to toss back. As she was changing, it dropped and caught in her bra. She looked down and found the silver chain was still there, just broken. The ends were severely tarnished, like they had just corroded through. But she had had that chain for years and it had never tarnished before.

So she took the chain off, thinking that the cost of repairing it might be more than it was worth. She fished out the stone jewelry and tossed it back in it's little box again. No time to find another chain for it. The girls were probably already waiting.

- - - -

When she returned to her apartment and fumbled in the door, she leaned up against the doorway and thanked God for taxi-cabs. Those girls loved their sauces and no way she would have been able to drive. Feeling lazy, she just shucked her clothes off as she made her way to the bathroom, leaving a line of clothes as she went. Too many drinks meant too many fluids - and all things had their end. She smiled at her little joke.

As she sat there naked on the toilet, she relaxed more, but kept herself from relaxing too much. It wouldn't have been the first time she woke up on the bathroom floor - probably why she kept thick, fluffy white throw-rugs in there.

Her attention went to the open box with the stone jewelry in it. Somehow it didn't seem the same. Maybe she had tossed it in too hard after the disappointment of her silver chain.

Reaching over to pick the jewelry up, she didn't remember putting the thong back on the jewelry - but there it was. Almost habitually, she put it around her neck. And there it sat, right between her breasts as before. Helluva conversation piece way down there, she thought. Only guy who would be looking there wasn't any jewelry expert and would only be interested in other things. Two other things.

The jewelry wasn't cold, though. In fact it seemed to be warm. But of course, here she was, buck-naked in her own bathroom like a queen on her throne. Anything would feel warm. She scrunched her feet through the soft shaggy carpet under her feet and reveled in the sensation.

But the dizziness seemed to have gone away. It was time for sleep to get rid of the rest of it. At least her stomach wasn't upset this time.

She rose and moved to her bed, turning out the bathroom light and making her way in the dark. As she leaned over to turn the comforter and sheets down, she noticed that the jewelry hardly moved, even on that long thong. "My boobs bounce more than you do, little fella," she said out loud. "Well that's a few too many, now I'm talking to my jewelry in the nude. Definitely time for sleep. Way too many tonight."

Dropping into bed, she was almost instantly asleep.

And somewhere in that night, she got that dream the first time.

She woke up in a cold sweat, and reached for the amulet, finding she had to unbutton the top of her night shirt to get to it.

Wait a minute.

She threw off the bedcovers and swung her feet down. Somehow in the night, she had gotten dressed in a nightshirt, boyshorts, and thick wooly socks. Now that's weird, she thought. Way too many drinks down the hatch last night.

Again, as if on cue, she felt the warmth of the amulet. As she fished it out and held it in her hand, it seemed to almost glow in the dim side lighting from her bedside table. And the world felt safe, for some reason. Which reminded her that she was missing out on a really cozy bed right now. So she dropped the amulet back where it seemed to want to stay and scootched back under the thick comforter and satin sheets, one of the few luxuries she afforded herself.

Asleep almost instantly, the dream returned.

This time, she was sitting in a lotus position in front of the statue and just considering nothing as she looked at it. She was again alone. And this time was completely naked, except for the amulet on its long thong around her neck. As she sat there, the thunder and rain was all around her, but this wasn't bothersome. She didn't even seem to be getting wet.

This time, she heard the wall of water coming, but didn't even turn to look. When it hit, it was like it flowed around and covered her, but didn't push her around, but covered more like the caress of a soft blanket. She was several feet underwater, just looking at the statue as she sat there, the clear water giving a soft focus to the statue and a light green, hazy halo around it.

Later, the water receded and the sun came out. She still sat there, still looking at the statue. She was content. And she could almost see it start to smile back at her.

- - - -

The sun was coming in her window now, through the partially open drapes.

Doreen was relaxed, fully comfortable, well slept.

She put her hand to her forehead and thought it odd that she had no hangover. Pulling the leather thong brought the amulet to view. As she held it in her hand, she started seeing that the strange occurrences were more than coincidences and had lack of explanations which ran through them.

Then she knew she had to find out about it's origins.

She had some vacation time coming, and it was always warm in South America.

However, it took far longer than she imagined to actually start her trip.

- - - -

Always there were incidental glitches which put the trip back a week or so. Her job wouldn't allow her to schedule her time off until other workers came back from theirs. So she saw that she could find out more about that amulet and the area she was going to. Might as well, it was going to be weeks.

She quit putting off her gym visits, as she knew she was going to need to be in shape. Five days a week kept her working at the gym on her way home. At night, she searched the Internet for any information she could find.

Weekends were at the local museums and looking up ethnologists, as well as antiquarians who could tell her anything about the jewelry. Most turned up blanks. She did get some leads in looking up the area's address, but few people had ever seen anything like that jewelry - and none of these actually knew anything about it's origin. Except one.

It took all Saturday to get there. He lived in an actual government-abandoned lighthouse on the coast. Well, it used to be the coast until it silted in and grew over.

The nearby town was a shadow of its former self, with more empty lots than buildings. There was a local hotel, which was more of a bed-and-breakfast, which suited Doreen just fine. Comfortable antique beds and they'd added bathrooms and modern conveniences. She'd called ahead for a reservation, so when she rolled up well after dark, she was able to check in simply. They'd even kept dinner for her and warmed it up. Since the nearest fast-food place was nearly a half-hour away on twisty, unknown roads, she wasn't inclined to go out for pizza - and the hospitality made her feel really at home. Like visiting her own aunt's home.

The owners didn't know much about this Dr. Fitzhughes. Seems he kept to himself. Bought that lighthouse for a song and spend far more fixing it up. Kept to himself, mostly. Sometimes people had seen him up on top, sitting in a deck chair for hours in the same position. Other tales of lights going on and off at odd hours of the night, as well as unusual glowing lights which seemed to move around the lighthouse in different patterns.

Of course, the lighthouse had long been rumored to be haunted, long before the doctor bought it. There were tales of suicides committed there, and ghosts of ships captains or their crew who blamed the lighthouse master for their wrecks off the coast. Some historians tried to spend the night there to study it for restoration, but left in the wee hours their first night and went straight back to New York or wherever, without even stopping by to pick up packages left for their expected three-week stay.

Little grew next to the shore side of the lighthouse, but the growth on the sea-side was abundant. And the worst repairs had to be made on the shore side as well, while the worst weather happened on the sea side, so you'd expect the wear would be there.

Finally, all the stories she could dredge out of her hosts were exhausted, as everyone was. So Doreen bid the owners good night and went up the creaking stairs to her room. It took little effort to drop into bed. The room was so small that her bed and nightstand took nearly the entire space, leaving only room for a chest at the end of the bed which her suitcase laid on.

Sleep came quickly, but stayed fitfully, interrupted with various dreams about phantoms in lighthouses who played poker around a table in its kitchen and a ghostly couple who chased themselves up and down its tall stairs. Meanwhile, she also had a vision of the mysterious doctor who sat in a deck chair at it's top, looking out to see with his feet propped on the railing and smoking a long clay pipe like a ship's captain - completely oblivious to the specters which would chase each other around the gallery where he sat.

These dreams came and went, returning much the same as before, but with more details. Soon, she knew the names of the poker players and the chasing couple. But the most disturbing part was finding that her external vision of the doctor seated on the gallery placed her several feet from the lighthouse. Once she looked down, she began falling - and wound up in bed, awake and shaking.

Even though it was still dark, she resolved not to go back to sleep again. She turned on the light and fished out one of the old books she found at one of those antiquarian shops which described the valley she was going to. Unfortunately, it seems to be more fantasy than factual reporting. The writing style was early 1800's, which made for slow going as she read the words on the browned pages. The smell of fine dust and old books put her in the mood for this sleuthing.

The tales in this book told of people who lived there for extremely long periods of time, and were perhaps immortal. That is, if they never left the valley itself. Those that left as youth lived normal lifespans, but those who were old in terms of the outer-world's time would age quickly the further they traveled from that valley. There was one report of a single person who would admit being several hundred years old and traveled the world as a guest of many different country's royal families, but always wore an amulet around his neck and dressed in very common clothing as he had in his own valley. His many stories left his hosts impressed enough to pay for his various excursions to their historical museums, as well as recommending him to their relatives in different countries.

One interesting point is that wherever he went, there was no war or hostilities. And trade increased as well as bumper crops and good weather. This legend continued to say that it was this exact reason which made him so popular in Europe. He finally left the Continent when his following became too great, for rumors of miracle healing started circulating. This forced him to leave on passage to the frontier America's by sailing ship. At this point, he simply disappeared, which the book's author attributed to the lack of sophisticated communication and publishing in Colonial America. It was speculated that he might have finally reached his end after he went to visit the savage aborigines further inland.

The next chapter covered the valley itself, which was nondescript. It told of a failed Spanish settlement which lay in ruins because the locals would only work when they wanted and could not be forced into labor. While there were many names for this area, it was commonly known as the Valley of Fools, which can be translated into many polite and less-polite meanings. The native word for this area only translated to "home" or "heart". Even the idea of a central village was new to those people, who considered all they needed for trade was a clearing and needed nothing outside from outside that valley.

Of course, this segued into some dialectical nuances the village had from other areas, which were mostly revolving around their philosophical approach to the world around them. The author hypothesized that the area's situation was so unique that it was a near paradise and so they needed nothing else. However, he tended to discount this, as historically such situations lead to overpopulation and excesses in local government which ultimately lead to its collapse. And the lack of written records before and after the Spanish tended to force trust in the verbal traditions, which were unreliable to most historians.

At this point the book became dry, the day was becoming brighter, and aroma's of breakfast were wafting up the stairs. Doreen put the book away and dressed for her trip to the lighthouse.

- - - -

Breakfast had been solitary, as no other guests were up that early, and the cook was busy with preparing for them. Doreen nearly inhaled the fresh eggs and home-made biscuits with gravy, then got on her way, quickly ducking her head in the kitchen to say thanks on her way out. Soon she was heading on the twisting shoreline roads which led to the old lighthouse.

As she rounded the final curve, she saw it sat nearly a quarter-mile in from the sea, with some large trees which had grown between it and the ocean. A small garden was placed between the trees and the stone building, which probably meant any salt spray had been mitigated so that plants could be raised that close to the ocean - other than marsh grass and others which could tolerate those conditions.

She had to park her car almost as far from the lighthouse, next to a very old freestanding garage, which held what looked like an antique car that Doreen made out through the dusty window in the side of the building.

Once up the neat, but winding and narrow path up to the lighthouse, she knocked and received no answer. Pushing, she found it opened easily, without a trace of squeak, but staying open or shut even despite the windy day. Notable in the otherwise neat and tidy ground floor was some uprooted stones and piles of dirt near the center. A table with three chairs stood over to one side, a pack of cards at it's center. Nothing else adorned the walls or floor.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Doreen called. She could smell fresh-brewed coffee and buns from the keeper's quarters.

"Up here. Come on up!" came the reply at the top of the long circular stairs spiraling upwards.

Finally, huffing and panting, she arrived at the open small doorway which revealed the wooden decking of the gallery. As she made the final steps through the doorway, a lone bearded man sitting in a deck chair puffing a long pipe removed his feet from the railing and rose to meet her, extending his hand and using the other to remove his pipe.

"Welcome. Glad you could make it. Have a seat?" He gestured to a second deck chair next to a small matching side table set between the two. A plate covered with a napkin, and an enameled pot with steaming coffee were there, along with a small pot of what looked to be jam. "Hope you like your coffee black, I didn't have arms to carry cream up here as well," said the man, who was wearing several days' growth of stubble along with a turtleneck sweater, khaki slacks, and a ball cap. "Name's Jack. Dr. Jack Fitzhughe. And yours?"

"Doreen Bonneham."

"That's a fitting name - did you know it means gift? We are all blessed with gifts, such as your beauty and youth."

She blushed slightly as she took the offered bun and mug, then thanked him as she settled into the spare seat. He sat down as well and soon they were both enjoying the view with a mug of full-bodied coffee in one hand and the other filled with a fresh bun with berry jam.

"Made out of local berries," he explained. "I studied up on local flora while trying to figure out how I could have a garden this close to the ocean. Berries grow wild around here, and lots of them if you know their season."

They both sat and looked out over the horizon as they finished their buns and sipped the hot coffee.

Finally, the doctor spoke, "And you have a question you wanted answered?" He looked off in the distance as he spoke.

Doreen took her time, considering her options - since she had so many questions, some important, others not. She fished the amulet from out of her blouse and took the thong from around her neck. "I have many questions," she said. "But they key one is about this. What can you tell me?"

The doctor turned toward her and only glanced at the amulet before looking her straight in her eyes, a piercing look. "I know you are in for the adventure of your life. Consider sending it to some distant relative as a gift, unless you want complete upheaval in everything you hold as security in your life. If not, nothing will be safe, nothing will give you control back to your own life. Even love may be fleeting from here on out."  With that, he turned back to look seaward.

"Oh come on, it's just a silly piece of jewelry!" Doreen exclaimed. "I could as easily pawn or sell it and be none the worse. What you receive as a gift you can re-give."

"Then give it away immediately." The doctor didn't turn his gaze from the sea.

Doreen was silent at this and looked down at the amulet. She placed it on the table and sat back, perplexed. Finally, she spoke, "It's not that difficult, couldn't be."

The doctor turned to her, "Let me ask you a few questions then: Why are you here?"

"To find out about this amulet."

"And who sent you here?"

"No one."

"How did you find out about me?"

"I searched through antique dealers and historians."

"And who told you to search?"

"No one."

"Then if no one is telling you to change your life and spend all your free time searching up a mysterious figure who lives miles away from any big city in an old deserted lighthouse, then what is prompting you to do all this?"

"I am curious."

"About?"

"This amulet."

"And the dreams you've been having?"

"Yes, of course. Wait - how do you know about the dreams?"

"I have my own stone like that."

"You do?" Doreen's pulse quickened.

"Sure. And it gives me dreams like yours. In fact, you are in them, just as I have been showing up in yours."

"Then maybe to get rid of these dreams I should just leave it on the table and go."

The doctor smiled at her. "Go ahead. Try it. I won't lift a finger. But it won't work."

"How is that?"

"Once you are given the trust of the amulet, it bonds to you. And it may only be given to a blood-relative. Otherwise, like the proverbial bad penny, it will continue showing up in your life. The harder you try to get rid of it, the faster it returns."

Doreen gave this some thought, but shook her head.

"Denial won't get you anywhere," the doctor commented. "Let's look at it this way - when's the last time you slept without it?"

"Oh I dunno - months ago. Actually, it's been every single night since I got it, come to think of it."

"Yup, that's the way it happens."

"So where's yours?" 

"Buried."

"I thought you couldn't get rid of it."

"I didn't."

"So you buried it and you still have dreams?"

"No, I didn't say I buried it. In fact, I've been trying to un-bury it."

Doreen remembered the rubble at the base of the lighthouse. "Oh, but wouldn't it be easy if it's just under the floor?"

"Well, it's taken me years to find it. That's why I have such a big garden on one side and the other side is so barren. I used every trick in the book to find where it was buried. Until just last week, I figured it was under the lighthouse itself. I've already replaced the entire floor of the keeper's quarters. But that stone is hand-laid and the masonry is precise, so it's not as easy as it looks to get it out." The doctor looked back out to see and rubbed his hands together as if remembering the work they'd been through to find his stone.

"So you have it now?"

"I will shortly. I am just waiting to be told how to undo the jinx."

"So you wait here?"

"This is where I get my best inspirations. Or not."

"What's the jinx?"

The doctor was silent for awhile, apparently wondering how much he could tell her. Finally, he blurted out, "Well, the story is a long one. It seems my family has been the hereditary caretakers of this lighthouse since it was first built. In fact, my family built it - or helped, anyway." He went on to describe how the family tales described the building and the many generations of family that lived in it. "When my uncle died, the last living occupant, I was sent the family Bible as part of the will. In it was a simple note: 'My dearest Jack, Now it's all over to you. May Lady Luck grace your remaining days as she has mine. Your Uncle Joe.'"

With that, the doctor looked out to sea again, silent.

Doreen kept her peace out of respect, even though the silence deepened to near insufferability.

Finally, Jack spoke. "As you experienced, my dreams started that night. And I would wake up after incredible dreams and the only thing I could do was to read that Bible. Not the regular verses, just the family history and stories. In fact, I'd close it up and come back to find it open. Time after time. I'd even put a heavy weight on it, but shortly I hear it thump to the floor - and it would be open to the last page I had read. And once I finished reading it, it then opened back at the beginning pages of the family history again. Spooky."

"Why didn't you just sell it in a used book store or give it away?"

"Tried that. Every store I'd go to would either suddenly be closed or not authorized to purchase it, or some other very probable excuse. I even put it in one of those deposit boxes. It showed up back at my apartment on the same table, open to the last-read page. Tried deposit boxes across town or in other suburbs - same thing. It would be there waiting for me. So I started taking what I read seriously and made inquiries."

The doctor paused, then continued. "Now it gets even weirder after that. It turns out that when the Coast Guard turned the lighthouse back over to private ownership, they couldn't sell it at any price. Until they finally were told to basically give it away - back to my family. Seems the Commandant was having bad dreams which only got worse the more he tried to ignore them. To get back his sanity, he ordered it transferred back to the family under any conditions which made it legal. So my ancestors got their home back for a dollar."

Jack poured them both some coffee and took the last bun after Doreen politely refused.

"Did your Bible tell you there was an amulet buried nearby?"

"Not in so many words. It did have an odd poem on a very worn page, written in a dialectical prose. Since I get great Internet here, I've been deciphering it as I can - and the clues are sometimes elusively cryptic until I can get inspired enough to sort them out. Just finished it the other week, just before I got that hole started."

"So why don't you finish the hole and get your amulet?"

"Well, as I said, it's jinxed."

"Oh come on... Do you believe all that? It should just be able to be dug up!" Doreen exclaimed, unable to hold herself back.

"Not that simple. For instance, it breaks shovel handles and shatters pickaxe heads. Even just sitting there. I've gone to town and came back to find all my tools in pieces. Now I've replaced or repaired them all, but they sit locked in that garage until the jinx is broken."

"So did any part of that Bible say how you could break it?"

"Not exactly. It told me to ask the ghosts."

"Ghosts?!?"

"Yea, like the ones you dreamed about last night."

That stopped Doreen cold as she just stared at him. And then she remembered what he had said earlier. "Oh, that's right, you said I was in your dreams as you were in mine."

"And you met all the local ghosts last night. It was a new moon, their favorite time to be out and about. I give up sleeping then. Just nap to catch up. Good thing I'm retired."

"But in my dream you were sleeping up here in the deck chair..."

"Dozing, maybe. But when you are constantly having to listen to Lucien and Hermione run up and down the stairs and through you while incessantly giggling and teasing each other, plus the endless raucous poker game downstairs, you really don't get much peace until the sun comes up."

"Dead relatives?"

"No, they all were shipwreck victims nearby. But they are also tied to the jinx, they tell me."

"You talk to them?"

"Well, mostly I just listen real carefully. Because if you can get a ghost to tell you the whole story, they just move on. So they've learned not to talk to humans. One of the stories in that Bible was about an ancestor who was a rather liberal-thinking pastor, and found that out. He wrote that there used to be hundreds infesting this place, but he was able to get the others to leave - except for these few, which are tightlipped to outsiders or anyone in solid form."

"So how did you find this out?"

"Gifts. The poker players like Rum, the older the better. The newlyweds - well, Lucien likes cigars and Hermione likes fresh cut flowers. That's the holder by the door - it was welded in place by some distant ancestor. Lucien gets jealous and goes to smoke his stogies on the other side while she sits there where you are and just prattles on about how pretty they are."

This made Doreen slightly uncomfortable, which the doctor noticed. He reassured her, "No, they don't come out in daylight and actually don't harm anyone. In good weather, I'll go and camp out in the garden - the sound doesn't carry as well out there. But no, in answer to your question, I can't just leave and go into town. Usually the car won't start if I'm thinking of leaving. I have to clear it with them before I can go anywhere."

Doreen was dubious about this, but was willing to play along, since everything else fit.

"Then why don't you just find out how this jinx works and get it removed?"

"Because it is going to take someone else."

"Like who?"

"Like you."

"Me?!?"

Jack just sat quietly, and looked deep into her eyes until she had to turn away.

Doreen didn't know what to think or how to act. "You honestly expect me to believe all this?"

"Actually, no."

"Then I guess I'd better leave."

"OK, nice meeting you." Jack looked out to sea again and put his feet back up on the railing of the gallery. He took out his tobacco and started to stuff his pipe.

Doreen didn't move.

And she waited as he continued to light his pipe and look out to sea again. Waited until the silence became unbearable.

"So you really meant, I don't have a choice and neither do you."

"Oh you have a choice," Jack said between puffs. He finally took the pipe out of his mouth and turned to her. "But you're right that it's not much of one, as I've found out. But you don't have to believe me. For all you know I'm crazy. But then, why did you come all the way out here just to talk to a man everyone tells you is nuts and lives in a haunted lighthouse in the booney-nowhere of the East Coast?"  Jack turned back to the seascape again.

Doreen considered this. And she knew in her heart that there was some truth to what he said. She took her amulet and looked at it for a long while. Then gracefully looped its thong back over her head and dropped it down her front again. For all that time out in the weather, it was still warm against her skin as it settled back in place.

"So what's my job in getting rid of this jinx?" She sighed.

"Well, I don't know precisely. You'll have to ask the ghosts?"

"Whaaat?"

"Be back at sunset. Bring some rum. Julian likes the cheap cigars, just get the longest ones you can. And don't forget the flowers. There's a shop next to your bed and breakfast - they'll know what to give you." The doctor took his feet from the railing and tapped out his pipe on the heel of one boot. He rose at that point and said, "Well this is where you go to town for your nap. I'd offer you to stay here, but there's only one bed and the ghosts won't talk unless you bribe them. So we aren't going to find anything out unless you go to town."

Doreen didn't know if she should be miffed at this candor. "Why don't you just go?"

"Because I'm not the one who can ask them. It's you they've been waiting for. Me, they already know everything there is to know. You're fresh news. With that he turned and picked up the coffee pot and plate, along with the napkins and jam jar. He moved around Doreen and headed down the stairs. "Have a nice nap!" Jack called from the stairs.

Doreen sat there perplexed. Of course she had nothing to lose by doing what he said. But no real reason to, either. And then she thought of her dreams. It wouldn't hurt to humor him to see if that would help ease her nights.

She rose, stretched, and then made her way back downstairs and outside to her car.

It started easily, just as it was supposed to.

- - - -

She'd asked them to deliver the flowers to the old hotel just before they closed. So when she came down to the lobby, they were there, waiting. A sunflower bouquet - nice and bright for a young girl full of life at the time she died.

Never thought I'd be bribing a ghost to get rid of my dreams, she thought. Or getting specters drunk so I could hear their sea tales with the hopes of removing a jinx. At least the rum was already in her car, along with the longest and cheapest cigars they had. While I was at it, I got box of chocolate donuts - maybe Jack would appreciate it. If not, it was going to be a long ride back home, and they’d help pass the time.

As she pulled into the spot next to the garage, the sun had set and was fading fast. She turned off her lights and car engine, then sat awhile in the quiet evening. Even as she did, the porch light went on to the lighthouse main entrance. There was smoke coming from chimney of the keeper's quarters, which gave a wood scent to the air.

Maybe Jack's cooking something, Doreen thought, realizing she had rushed out without asking about dinner. "Hope my hosts don't wait for me," she said aloud. She suffered a twinge of regret for not thinking about her manners in the rush. With that, Doreen gathered up the package with the bribes in it, plus the bouquet, and got out of the car and onto the path.

At the door, she knocked and pushed it open when there was no answer, yelling, "Jack, you home?"

A muffled reply came from the closed door to the keeper's quarters.

Doreen noted that there was a fourth chair at the table, as well as lights in the sconces. Since they were still oil-filled and not electric, the odor of burned oil was tangible. Above was dark, except for a light at the very top of the stairs.

"Hi Doreen. Let me help you with that." Jack took the grocery sack and put it on the table. "Here, bring the flowers inside. I've got a vase there which is in a duplicate to the holder at the top of the stairs. She likes her flowers fresh."

Doreen followed him in to his quarters, snagging the donuts out of the bag as she passed by.

As she entered the small main room, she noticed it had a small table which was set with a white table cloth and lit candles in addition to a simple place setting on each side.

"Hope you didn't mind. I had an idea you'd be rushing out without eating so I made a little something for us both." Jack was talking as he went into what looked like a tiny kitchen and returned with some chicken-fried steak in a mushroom and onion sauce still in the skillet. "Sorry I don't have the serving dishes out - it's so close from here to there, I stored them all way years ago. Typical bachelor arrangement - don't dirty what you don't want to clean."

He motioned Doreen to sit while he dished out two helpings of everything on their respective plates. Taking the hot skillet to the kitchen, he returned with a small pot of asparagus and a salad made of greens she wasn't familiar with. "Dig in, I'll be right back."

Jack was in a smooth endless motion as he moved efficiently, taking her jacket to hang on the hook by the door along with the box of donuts she was holding and returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses in one hand, a jigger of salad dressing in the other.

Finally he sat. Doreen was fascinated in watching him and didn't move until he quit moving.

"Thanks for the donuts. Chocolate is my favorite. We can take some up with ice cream to the gallery afterwards. Sometimes you get munchies while you're waiting and that climb is a long one, even for someone who is used to it."

Doreen commented, "This all looks great. And what's in this salad?" She found out she was ravenous and the salad was delicious.

"It's all local greens. If you know what to look for and how to raise them, you can almost have endless salad greens from native plants around here, plus I like some spinach occasionally. Oh, that asparagus is fresh picked this afternoon - but no, the steak is from a farm down the road a few miles. I do a lot, but not everything." He smiled at his own joke.

Doreen was relaxed and enjoying the food immensely. While the wine helped, it was having home-cooked, fresh-from-the-garden food that really made the difference. As well, having someone else cook was a treat - and it was amazing how simple food could taste so good. For a time, she forgot she was in a lighthouse as she was listening to Jack's humorous takes on how to raise and prepare food - a world away from nightmares, ghosts, and mysterious amulets.

They'd cleared their plates and just finished laughing at another of Jack's humorous anecdotes when they both heard a loud thud outside the building.

"Oops, our guests are here." Jack rose and collected up all the dishes in a single load to take them into the kitchen. "Cork that wine, would you? They have a nasty habit of tipping over anything that's open. Hate to waste it." With the sound of running water, he quickly covered the dishes so clean up would be easier later, he was quickly back with two plastic bowls, spoons, a small container of ice cream and the donuts.

"OK. Let's go. After you - oh, grab that bouquet,too." He gestured through the door going into the lighthouse proper.

Once through the doorway, he rattled off a series of directions as he headed up the stairs. "You're going to have to open up the rum and place the lid loosely on top. Take the cards out of the pack and leave them in the center. Then carry up the bag with the cigars and bouquet up here. Besides my hands being full, it's key that you do all these if you want them to talk to you. It's your bribes, after all." He soon was several turns up the stairs. Then he hollered back, "Oh yeah, you may want your jacket, though your amulet will probably keep you warm..."

Doreen grabbed her jacket out of the other room and tossed it over her arm, scooping up the bouquet and the bag with its cigars as she started climbing the long stairs. 

By the time she had arrived, again panting and out of breath, Jack had already set out the dessert and was propped up on the gallery railing and leaning his head back against the wall. From somewhere, he produced a ball cap and was wearing it.

"Oh, there you are," his eyes twinkled as he teased me, completely enjoying this change in his routine. "Sit down and take a rest - oh, you can put that bouquet in the sconce holder while you are up. Save you a trip." 

Doreen set the bouquet in the holder and then dropped into the chair with the bag holding only the cigar package and her jacket on top of that. A few deep breaths later, she asked, "OK - where do the cigars go?"

Joe replied, "Well, take them around to the other side and open the package so the ends are exposed. They don't do opening packages well for some reason. But bring the sack back, it will just confuse them, plus we can use it to put the dishes in."

Doreen lurched to her feet unceremoniously and dropped her jacket back on her chair. Leaving the bag, she took the long cheroots over around the other side and opened them, placing them in the center of the decking. That done, she looked outward and realized what a marvelous view Jack had from here. While he always looked seaward, it was just as breath-taking looking at the dimming vista and the lights coming on from nearby houses, farms, and cities. She made her way back and felt the chill start to cool her off after all these exertions.

Picking up her jacket, she shrugged into the sleeves and wrapped it around her before sitting down, more carefully this time.

Jack offered her a bowl of ice cream with a couple of chocolate donuts in it, the rest of the box available on the table. He waited until she had started eating and then worked his own over with gusto. All was silent on the lighthouse other than their eating, plus a few occasional ship horns and the evening birds.

Doreen broke this peace as she finished off her own dessert and placed the bowl back on the small table. "Well, now what?"

"Oh, it won't be long now. Almost dark enough." Jack was quiet, reflective. While he seemed to be enjoying this immensely, this was also his source of peace up here. Solitude could be addicting, Doreen thought as she looked out over the broad horizon.

Soon, the sound of voices started up below as the previously quiet door creaked open. "You know I greased and oiled that to perfection, yet they can still make it squeak. That's how I know they're here." Joe whispered to me as he quickly cleared the table and stuffed everything into the sack, which was placed on the deck out of the way.

Two people were talking loudly as the bottle was passed back and forth. A third soon joined them. Bets were exchanged and oaths as the cards were dealt and revealed.

Light laughter and giggling then shortly started as if someone were chasing the other around the outside of the lighthouse. Soon the door creaked open again and light steps were heard coming up the steps, along with whispered jokes and muffled laughter. The newlyweds had arrived.

Doreen saw Hermione first, as a gauzy shape coming through the door. Behind her was Julian, and they stopped to take a long kiss before entering the gallery. When they did, they saw both Doreen and Jack, which surprised them. Hermione was dressed in evening gown and Julian in a cutaway tuxedo – as if they were heading out for the ship’s festivities that evening.

"Jack's got himself a lover, Jules."

"I can see that, Hermie."

Jack interrupted, "Hermione, Julian, let me introduce Doreen. Doreen, this is Hermione and Julian. No, she's not a lover, she is just a visitor here on a quest."

Jules whispered something to Hermione, who seemed to blush. "Jules was just being rude, and I apologize, but loosely translated, he says that he hopes it turns into a mutually happy relationship, much like ours. Very loosely translated, but I'm afraid Julian has only one thing on his mind and that is our stateroom affairs later..."

With that they again started kissing passionately, oblivious to all their surroundings.

"Ahem." Jack interrupted after a suitable pause. Doreen thought you'd like some flowers, so she brought them just for you, Hermione."

The couple broke it off and Hermione went into various oohs and ahs about how pretty they were, and thanking Doreen profusely.

Jack, seeing that Julian didn't know how to take this, rose to his feet and said aloud, "Well, I'll leave you girls to talk. I think Jack might want to join me in the main salon for a smoke or two." Then he left to the other side. Julian followed, looking curiously after several times.

Hermione glided to Jack's seat, carrying the bouquet. Looking directly above the flowers directly into Doreen's eyes, she was point blank, "So, dear, what are you really after here?"

Doreen saw the vixen there, underneath all the girlishness, and came right to the point. "I've got a problem I hear only you can help me with."

Flattered, Hermione sat back and started adjusting the petals and stems to improve the arrangement. "You may be right. Tell me about your problem."

Doreen fished out the amulet and showed the ghostly Hermione. "This thing is giving me dreams I don't want. And it brought me here. Jack says he's got one of his own and can't get to it because only I can remove the jinx. But I don't know how. You may."

Hermione was staring at the amulet, open-mouthed as if hypnotized. She finally looked up and said with a blank look on her face, "I just may at that."

Meanwhile, the smell of Jack's pipe and Julian's cheap cigars wafted around the bend on the slight breeze.

"I'm going to have to talk to Julian about it. Please excuse me." And with that, she vanished. The flowers dropped to the table.

Jack strolled around the gallery at that point, long pipe blowing smoke as he came.

"Well?" Doreen asked. "What did Julian say?"

"Pretty much the same as you got. He vanished when I suggested that as a gentleman, he might help you with your jinx problem." He stood at the railing for a bit, then tapped out the rest of his bowl on the heel of his boot, the sparks flying off into the night. He picked up the bag at that point, along with the flowers. "Let's go down and have you meet the poker players. It's their turn."

Once on the ground floor, Jack introduced Doreen to the three players: Duke, Leroy, and Sam. They sat around the table, all in sailor garb. In the center, a pile of ghostly chips and script lay, while each player had more or less similar winnings in front of them. The bottle was now half empty.

"Hi boys, mind if a lady sits in?" Doreen purred. They all nodded assent, and Jack pushed her chair in as she sat.

Making an excuse, he stepped into his quarters and closed the door silently behind him.

Duke was dealing, and laid out five cards for everyone.

While they all were looking over their hands, Leroy was the first to speak, "So, what brings a pretty little thing like you out to deal with a blowhard like Jack?"

"Well, it wasn't Jack's fault. It was this." She leaned over very provocatively and fished out the amulet to show them - as if they couldn't see it from where they were. While she kept her card hand covered, it was obvious other things were exposed to view. "You see this little trinket gives my head bad dreams at night - and told me to come here to see dear Jack. And Jack, being a doctor and a gentleman, told me my only cure was to ask you fine men about my personal problem. Oh, I'll take one card." She placed one on the table, where Duke quickly put it to the side.

The three men looked at one another and shifted in their seats, asking for their own cards, which Duke promptly dealt.

Sam spoke next. "And what was it that we were supposed to be able to help you with - I mean, if it's not too personal?"

Doreen fluttered her eyes and paused. "Well, I supposed I can trust you men. Jack spoke highly of your honor and courage to deal with difficult issues."

At this, all men noticeably sat taller, and leaned forward, eager to be of service.

Duke entered in, "Miss, if it is anything at all we can do, just tell us and it will be done forthwith. On our honor as sailors and gentlemen."

Doreen sighed and again leaned in to expose more décolletage. "It's a problem with the jinx which sits in this very building. I can't get rid of my dreams unless I can get rid of that jinx. Can you men help me in my need?"

Sam, Leroy, and Duke looked at each other. This put them in a pickle, obviously. To help her, they had to reveal a secret they'd kept for hundreds of years. But to not help her, they'd violate their own honor code.

Duke finally spoke. "Missy, you put us in a tough spot. But we are men of honor. And this is a poker game. You have five cards there. Let's make this bet. If you win, we show you the answer you seek. If anyone of us beats your hand, then you leave here and never return. Deal?"

Doreen looked solemnly into his ghostly eyes and said, "Deal."

One by one, the men laid down their hands:

Leroy - two pair, aces and eights.
Sam - three jacks and a pair of 10’s.
Duke - four kings.

Doreen hesitated, and bowed her head slightly. Duke smiled and went to claim the chips in the center.

Then Doreen put up one hand, palm facing him. He froze, his arms on the table around the phantom chips.

Doreen laid down her cards one at a time - straight flush.

At this, the men drew back and looked nervously at each other. Suddenly, they vanished, along with the chips. All that was left were the cards and a half-empty bottle of rum.

Almost on cue, Jack re-entered the room.

"And now?" Doreen asked.

"We wait." Jack replied.

They didn't have long to wait.

Suddenly all the oil lamps were extinguishes as if blown out by a strong wind - or individually snuffed. With the door shut, and it being a new moon, the room was pitch black. Except for two glowing spots. One was hanging on the front of Doreen's blouse by its thong. The other was in the bottom of the hole Jack had been digging in the center of the lighthouse floor.

These two glows seemed to pulse greenly.

As their eyes adjusted to the dark, Doreen could see Jack gesturing her toward the hole.

As she moved forward, the two glows intensified and started showing huge shadows behind Doreen and Jack, as well as upward through the iron steps of the stairwell. The closer she moved, the brighter the light. When she and Jack were over the hole, it was so intense that Doreen covered her own amulet in order to be able to see at all.

Suddenly, she got an idea. She looked at Jack and he nodded. Slowly, she knelt in front of the hole and placed her hand in to the bottom. Scraping off the dirt, the light suddenly grew brighter. With closed eyes she put her hand around the object, which was slightly warm to the touch, and pulled it from the hole it was in.

As the light was so intense by this time, she handed it quickly to Jack, who took it. At that point, the twin glows faded and the oil lamps mysteriously re-lit, as if they had never gone out.

Jack looked at what was in his hands. It was nearly a duplicate of Doreen's, but without the leather thong. Same design and construction, yet hand-crafted much like hers, so unique in it's own right.

"Well, thanks. Good Job." Jack said after a moment. "Now it's over."

"Or now it's begun," Doreen said.

Jack waited for an explanation, but had some idea.

Doreen dusted off her slacks and hands as she stood up. "I was headed somewhere before I had to come up here to help you. And I still am. Got a spare month?"

"Well, I don't think there's anything keeping me here now. And I kinda think I'll wind up going there, regardless. So, yea, let's go."

Jack nearly spun on his heel, and with his typical efficient motions, swept up the cards and replaced them in their box, scooped up the rum bottle and capped it, then swung the door open to his quarters and entered.

Doreen could hear humming from the kitchen as Jack quickly washed and rinsed the dishes they had used for dinner and dessert. They each went into the drying rack by the sink. She could hear him blow out the pilot light on the stove, then went deeper in to his small living area to emerge in a few minutes with a stuffed nylon duffel bag.

"OK, we're ready, just a few details out in the main room. I'll meet you at your car." With that he led her to the main part of the lighthouse and through the door to the outside dropping the bag just outside the door, he turned to the stairs, taking the curving steps a couple at a time.

She walked down the path and soon saw the light at the top wink out and heard his muffled steps nearly running back down in the dark. She had opened the door to her car and could see him coming down the path, her interior car lights reflecting off him, the rest of the lighthouse structure now dark.

As she slid in to drive, he got in on the passenger side.

"We can pick up your things at the Hotel and I'll let them know to keep an eye on the place till I get back. For all they think I'm strange, they like my stories."

As the car turned around and headed down the twisting road, five ghostly figures watched silently from the lighthouse gallery, smiles on all their faces.