Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Week 37, Day 255 - "Lighthouse Hill"

“Lighthouse Hill”

Written by Joe Janes

9/30/09

255 of 365

CAST

Caleb, 50s

Edward, 20s

(Lights up on Caleb in his lighthouse keeper uniform, similar to a train conductor’s outfit. He stands at the level below the lantern of a Maine lighthouse looking out over the rail. He is a stout, proud man. He hears sea gulls and watches a flock of them fly across the shore. We hear footsteps climbing up an iron staircase behind him. We hear a metal can full of liquid drop on the stairs and clunkety-clunk their way down.)

EDWARD (offstage and retreating downstairs)

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-

CALEB

Language!

EDWARD (from farther off)

Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot.

(Edward has retrieved the heavy full metal fuel oil can and quickly runs back up the stairs and out onto the landing with Caleb. He is completely out of breath. Caleb takes a watch out of his pocket and checks the time. He then removes a slim ledger from his breast pocket and makes a note.)

EDWARD

Mother is expecting you for supper.

CALEB

We’ll see.

EDWARD

I can take over your watch.

(Caleb clearly does not like this idea.)

EDWARD (continuing)

It’s clear. No clouds. (Caleb points off.) Barely a cloud. Light wind. Beautiful day. Nothing could happen.

(Caleb continues looking out at the sea.)

EDWARD (Continuing)

You’d let Tobias.

CALEB

Tobias isn’t here. And, furthermore, I would not. Not anymore. Neither you nor your brother knows what a lighthouse means to a ship out at sea.

EDWARD

Sure, I do. It means, “Hey, look… a lighthouse.”

(Caleb looks disappointed.)

EDWARD (continuing)

What does it mean, Father?

CALEB

Put yourself in the shoes of that sea captain out there.

EDWARD

Where?

CALEB

Follow my arm. (He points out.) See that small glimmer on the horizon? That’s a freighter. Imagine you’ve been crossing the Atlantic for months. Nothing to see but waves and water for miles for days, for weeks. He’s at the wheel and sees us. What do you think is going through his mind, right now?

EDWARD

“Hooray”?

CALEB

“Safe.” Safe at last. Untethered at sea. No land in sight. We could be lost. We may never get home. This lighthouse is a visual life preserver. It means he’s almost home. Safe, at home. All because we’re standing here. I’m standing here. Always here. Always safe. They depend on the lighthouse. They depend on me. The lighthouse depends on me. Dependable. Safe. Like my father before me and my father’s father.

(Edward stands at the rail, emulating his father’s proud stance.)

EDWARD

Tobias will feel the same way when he comes home.

CALEB

I told him not to bother ever coming home.

EDWARD

No, you didn’t. You didn’t speak to him for several days before he left.

CALEB

He knows. He knows.

EDWARD

He’ll come home. Eventually. And he’ll expect to see you standing here. And it will make him feel safe.

(Caleb is silent.)

EDWARD (continuing)

He spoke to me just before he left. He told me to take care of you. Bring you fuel for the lantern. Bring you plates of food. Make sure you rested. “Take care of the lighthouse keeper, he said.” Didn’t even call you dad. Take care of the lighthouse keeper.

(Caleb is still silent.)

EDWARD (continuing)

Soldiers come home on ships, too, don’t they?

CALEB

I suppose.

EDWARD

Mother made you supper. Fried chicken. Scalloped potatoes. Green beans. All your favorites.

CALEB

You could have brought me a plate.

EDWARD

Mother was hoping you’d sit at the table with her.

(Caleb looks up at the sky.)

EDWARD (continuing)

I can refill the lantern.

(Caleb looks at him with disbelief.)

EDWARD (continuing)

No spills. No fires. Other than the lantern. I’ll even trim the wick. And I’ll stand here. After I do all the other stuff. I’ll stand here just like you and let the ships know they are safe.

(Caleb considers this.)

EDWARD (continuing)

And I will only use the foghorn if there is fog. It is not a plaything.

(Caleb sees potential in his son. He hands Edward his pocket watch. Edward takes it, smiling. Caleb also hands Edward his ledger and pen. Edward graciously accepts it. Caleb puts his hand on Edward’s shoulder.)

CALEB

You’ll make a fine lighthouse keeper, Son.

(Edward is moved and speechless. He hugs his dad. It’s a little too much for Caleb. He pries himself away, gives Edward a nod and exits down the stairs. Edward looks out over the sea. He looks happy and proud. He puts his hands on the railing and accidentally drops the pocket watch, ledger and pen.)

EDWARD

Fuck.

(Blackout.)