The old captain had been called Pete. Everyone laughed at him a little behind his back, because he said strange things and never washed. He had always been smelly, all his life. He could never hire a mate to work with him either.
His ship stayed out there, floating beyond the harbor, with plenty of fish still left and the wind blowing in the wrong direction. The whole town felt sick for two days.
The sheriff and his men finally rowed out to the ship and threw the catch overboard, along with the captain. They tossed buckets and buckets of water over the deck, but the stench would not go away.
The harbor master refused to have the ship in his harbor, so they burned it out at sea. That stank too, even worse, in fact. The smoke blew straight toward the town and lingered there for three windless days.
It became known as Pete’s Revenge.
The townspeople walked around with cloths over their mouths, no one ate anything, and Mr. Rosewood had to throw away his supplies. Lampie’s mother was still alive at the time and was unable to talk or walk, but she could still smell, and Lampie gave her wet cloths and bags of lavender, which did not help, and she was not sure whether to open the windows or to leave them shut. Her father never helped; he was always drunk, but drink did not help against the stench either, and it got to the point where no one wanted to breathe. But of course they had to.
Pete’s Revenge. Yes, that is how bad it smells upstairs.
Lampie looks around. No one. On soft feet, she climbs the steps to the tower. Around the curve, there is another flight of stairs. Big dark drops have left a trail on the wood. It is blood, she knows it is, and she nearly turns back. Another curve, she has to go up again, and the stairs are becoming narrower and narrower. She has to let go of her nose, or she will not have enough air to breathe. Eeuw.
At the top of the stairs, in the half light, she sees a door bolted on the outside. The source of the bad smell is lying on the floor: a broken plate with pieces of rotten fish. And something else. A key. A noise suddenly comes from below: Lenny shrieks, the dogs bark, and Martha’s angry voice calls her name. Lampie grabs the key, hides it in her dress, and pelts back down the stairs.
After Lenny has had ointment rubbed into his hand, the tea has been mopped up, and Lampie has made a fresh pot, Martha glares at her.
“Where were you? Did you go upstairs?”
“Not all the way,” says Lampie, with red cheeks. “I thought…The smell was so bad. I just wanted…”
“Let it stink,” says Martha. “It’s just how the house is. It’ll go away.” Then she roughly grasps Lampie’s wrist. “You are not to go up into that tower. What have I told you?”
“I will not go up into that tower.”
Oh, but she does go, of course. The heart wants what the heart wants—and the heart of a lighthouse keeper’s daughter wants to see the lighthouse. The head of a lighthouse keeper’s daughter can think all the sensible things it wants, but that does not help.
Her mother does not believe it is a good idea either. She has been talking and talking all evening.
Even if you do see something, what can you do to help your father?
Leave the man be; he’s old and wise enough. Well, he’s old, in any case.
There is something up there, Emilia; I don’t know what it is either. But something. Something dangerous.
You said yourself that monsters don’t exist, says Lampie.
That’s right. They don’t.
Well, then.
I am your mother, says her mother sternly. And I really would rather you didn’t. In fact, I forbid it, Emilia!
Lampie stands up and takes a deep breath. “Yes, but do you know something, Mother?” she says. “You’re actually…dead.”
Her mother has no answer to that. Lampie feels her disappearing from her head, slowly and somewhat sadly. For a moment, Lampie feels miserable and lonely, but then she was miserable and lonely already. She is simply here. Simply alone.
Lampie sits down cross-legged on her bed and waits until it is completely dark. Her hands play with the key.
hunting party
“Nick! Nick!” Martha’s voice rings out across the garden, where no sound ever rings out. Startled birds flutter away; crows mimic her with their caws. “Nick!”
It is still very early in the morning; the sun has only just come up. And there is already so much noise.
She limps up and down the steps and shouts again, even louder. “I mean it, Nick! Come here! Now!” Her hands have become fists, ready to thump him. The man is no good to her. He is never around when she needs him. But this time he really has to come. “Nick!!”
Finally, the bushes part and the thin man in his enormous coat appears, unshaven, still sleepy. “What?”
“That monster…” Martha’s voice trembles. “That monster!”
“Oh, woman…” Nick shrugs. “Monster…Just stop it.”
“It’s the girl, you fool. Listen to me! The girl, Emilia, she’s gone; she’s not in her room, not anywhere, she’s—”
“Run away. Thought she would. Probably for the best.” Nick yawns and turns around, ready to disappear into the garden again.
Martha swears her worst curse. “Run away? How? Did she fly over the fence? All her things are still here, her shoes, everything. She’s gone upstairs. I know she has! She kept saying she would. He’s got her. Do you understand? He’s got her up there.”
“Oh.” Nick scratches his head. “Ah.”
Martha sighs. The way he’s standing there, his arms dangling by his side, as what has happened slowly penetrates his thick skull. If she did nothing, said nothing, would the man ever act of his own accord? No. Nothing. Never.
“Don’t you get it?”
“Yeees…”
“No, you don’t. That child was brought here. Everyone knows she’s here, the sheriff, that awful Miss Amalia, and soon the master will find out too, so she can’t just disappear. It’ll cause terrible problems. We can’t just…We have to…There’ll be such a fuss.”
“And…” says Nick slowly. “She’s a sweetheart.”
“Yes, she’s a sweetheart, and that monster or whatever it is will probably be eating that sweetheart all up, right at this very moment. Maybe he’s already gnawing on her bones. He’s wild, savage. Just look at my leg. And I don’t want to go up there ever again. That’s right—I said: never again! But we have to—and that includes you. For once, you finally need to listen to me and do as I say!” She wants to grab him, to shake him, to yell in his ear.