Conversing With
The Light
by John Brooke
Nicholas,
keeper of the Longships Lighthouse, was long
overdue for shore leave. Heavy storms had raged
for weeks and the relief boat couldn’t
navigate the two miles to relive him.
His wife, Liza,
waited at their house up on the rocky cliffs
overlooking the North Atlantic. Nicholas used a
short-wave transmitter to radio his wife at
precisely 3 o’clock every afternoon.
She stood
anxiously by the radio receiver at the scheduled
hour. Her husband asked about her health and
inquired about their friends and family. She
couldn’t answer him by radio, because they
couldn’t afford an expensive transmitter.
Instead she
opened the window, cranked up the volume on the
radio, and ran outside carrying two semaphore
signal flags. She heard him through the open
window. When he stopped talking, she waved her
flags in reply.
As she
answered him, he could see her with his
binoculars, whirling those flags, and decoded her
messages.
They had
conversed successfully using this method for
years.
Sometimes Liza
would ask one of those impossible female
questions, the kind deemed unanswerable by most
males.
“What are
you thinking?” She signaled.
He hesitated a
moment “Of course, I’m always thinking
of you, dearest Liza.”
“What
would you do if I died?”
“Why,
dear, I’d be totally upset,” he said.
“Are you sick?”
“Fit as a
fiddle. I just wondered.”
“What a
question to ask.”
“Would
you remarry?”
“No, of
course not, dear”
“Don’t
like marriage?”
“Yes, I
do!”
“Wouldn’t
you marry again?”
“Okay,
I’d marry again.”
“Would
you?”
“Probably,”
“Sleep
with her in our bed?”
“I
suppose I could.”
“Would
she wear my clothes?
“No!
Definitely not, dear,” responded Nicholas,
“your dress size is 15, and she’s a
size 6--”
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