Looking for Lighthouses

Short Story

The sound of the creaky automatic door opening was a useful warning. A warning of a new civilian seeking help – or to complain – but more importantly for the front desk officer, it was a warning to slip her coat on from the back of her chair. As the warm air was sucked out, in came a small woman wrapped in several layers. The wind had defeated her morning hair routine and had battered her face red.

“Ohhh, ohhh…” she wailed through her fogged glasses.

“This darn weather, could’ve gone down to Lauderdale with them and Marilyn and…” her words trailed off into mumbles.

The officer first raised her eyes, then her left brow. “Ma’am, is everything ok?”

“So cold! Ain’t even February, how’z it this cold? Ohhh…”

“Ma’am if you’re looking for the shelter, it’s two streets over on–”

“Oh no no, I’m here fir my boy,” the disheveled woman’s attention snapped into place as she scurried over to the desk.

“Ah I see, do you know if they are set for release or —”

“This nice gentlemen called me on the phone, said ‘We gots yir little Jacky here’, and I was so relieved! What with the cold and snow, I’d hate fir him to get sick, you know? I ain’t heard from him in so long! Oh he’s so bad ‘bout that, goes off with them friends of his and ain’t never tells his poor momma when he’ll be back.”

“Ok, I hear you ma’am,” the officer struggled to break into the woman’s digression. “If you can just give me a last name, I can look him up in our system here.”

“Oh of course, of course. Elkins, E-L-Kins,” she sang.

The officer clacked away and took a moment reading the screen.

“Ok, I see we had an Elkins a few hours ago but it looks like he’s been released.”

The woman turned flustered.

“Oh but that nice gentleman on the phone! Said I could come on down and see my Jacky! Oh that poor boy, sent out in the cold. Not even given the chance to see his own momma! And, let me tell you, he is just the sweetest yo–”

“Alright, alright,” the office waved down the latest wailings. “Let me go grab the officer that released him.”

The desk officer disappeared through a door while the bundled woman stood at the desk, still swaying from the earlier wind. After a minute, the officer re-entered followed by a large middle-aged man in uniform - bushy mustache included.

“Hi there, Mrs. Elkins is it?” the man asked calmly.

“Hello there sir, yes it is.”

The man returned a warm smile. “I’m the officer that spoke to you on the phone earlier. My sincere apologies, we’ve been so short-staffed here that I didn’t have time to give you an update.”

The woman made no attempt to interrupt.

“You see, your son was brought in for a supposed shoplifting. Just a misdemeanor, so after the booking he was allowed to leave on his own volition.”

“So…my little Jacky already left?”

“Yes ma’am, unfortunately we weren’t allowed to hold him until you arrived.”

The woman began to whimper, quietly wailing to herself.

“But, but…” the officer stammered. “I’m so glad we were able to get a hold of you. You see, this isn’t the first time your boy has been brought in. We had no idea he even had a mother until he mentioned your name this last time. One of our officers familiar with him did some digging to find your contact info and low and behold, your boy was right.”

“My Jacky was askin’ ‘bout me?” her face lit up.

“Well… yes ma-am, sort of. You see–”

“Oh my poor little Jacky, he must be so frightened! Ain’t seen his momma in so long now. Why, I could just cry the whole Mississippi fir him right now, I tell ya!”

“Yes ma’am,” the man jumped in as politely as possible. “But listen, we called you down here because, well, we’re worried about your son,” the officer said with a grimace, his Southern affectation afraid to deliver any negative news. He continued, “We thought your son didn’t have a family or a home, but now that we do, we’d like to try to get him some help.”

“Oh yes yes, he definitely needs help. With how cold it is out there, he’s probably so frightened, don’t even know how to get back to see his own momma!”

“Ah, well no. I meant more about getting help for some of the things he’s been previously booked for.”

“Ohhh,” she wailed “I know, I know. It’s them other boys he done been hanging around! I tell him, I tell him ‘Jacky, you are too smart and good to be hanging around them bad in-FLU-ences!’ But he just never wants to listen to his poor momma. Nuh-uh,” she shook her furrowed face.

The male police officer shared a look with the desk officer.

“Ma’am, when’s the last time you actually spoke with your son?” he asked politely.

“Aww, who can tell? He never tells his own momma nothin’! Never lets me know when he’s comin’ or goin’. Oh and he’s such a precious young man, to treat his own momma this way hurts my poor heart! Ohhh…”

The male officer had deflated from the meandering of the conversation and decided to pivot.

“Ok, well listen ma’am. We would very much like to help you and your son. There are some community programs we can see about entering him in but that requires getting a hold of him. He unfortunately didn’t have a cell phone on him.”

“Ohh of course, I buy him a new phone and he loses it the next day! That’s just like my Jacky. Oh I just wish I could talk to him, tell him he needs to come on home with his momma.”

“I can ask my officer that knows him for a list of places where he’s usually seen. Would that help you ma’am?”

“Ohh yes yes, that would be wonderful! I’ll find my little Jacky and get him out of this cold. He must be freezing out there, my poor little Jacky!”

The man slipped into the back while the woman continued her musings to the desk officer. He returned a few minutes later with a piece of paper.

“My officer has written down a few gas stations along ‘75 that he’s been known to frequent. Given how much time has passed, he could be anywhere from Richmond up past Georgetown.”

The officer paused now that the rehearsed lines were over and held out the paper towards the woman.

“I wish we had more info to give you. I really do hope you find him, I couldn’t imagine what my own mother would do in your position.”

The woman reached past the paper and grabbed his wrist.

“She’d do the same as me,” she lightly shook his wrist to the rhythm of her voice. “God done gave every boy an angel, and that there’s their momma.”

* * *

“Who?” the man tightened his face.

“Jacky. Jacky Elkins. E-L-K…”

A line had started to form behind the mother.

“Listen miss, if you could just step to the side while I help these other custo–”

She reached into her beat-up clutch, pulled out a photo, and thrust it to his face.

“This here’s him.”

The clerk jerked back to dodge the mother’s extended arm.

“SHI…” his expletive trailed off as he squinted at the photo. A pimpled, slim face with a buzz cut stared back. Hand-me-down white dress shirt. Polyester striped tie. Your typical high school yearbook photo – complete with a half finished smile from an impatient photographer.

Despite his annoyance, the clerk paid proper dues to the request. “Sorry miss, I ain’t ever seen this boy,” he spoke more softly, still analyzing the photo.

She slipped the photo back into her purse and traded it for a hastily torn piece of paper she had scribbled on earlier.

“Thank you fir yir time sir, please give me a call there if ya see him,” she placed the paper on the counter and slipped past the horde behind her. They wished her goodbye with a collective sigh of relief.

It was the same story as the previous seven gas stations. Only now, she had sharpened her inquiry routine to a speedy four minutes. The mother clambered into the car and wasted no time pulling out and back onto the highway. She drove north on I-75, stopping at each and every exit regardless of the officer’s list. After all, what if Jacky had found a new favorite spot?

Snow had begun to fall again. The old car creaked along, thanking the Lord’s mercy for each moment parked and cursing the world after each blow and jab from the storm. While the wind shrilled outside and the heater blasted the windshield, the cabin stayed otherwise quiet. The mother said nothing, her focus locked ahead as she fought the steering wheel far too big for her. Her attention was only averted when it came time to wipe her runny nose and toss the tissue into the pile in the passenger seat.

On and on. Clouds turned to violet. Hills turned to dark blue. Snow turned to silver in her headlights. Above, streetlights awoke from their sleep. Each little one danced across her smudged glasses, one after another as she wizzed by. The dancers were eventually joined by a large glow, drifting slowly across her eyes. Up above – far up above the streetlights – a new light had emerged over the rolling hills on the horizon. What had been ignored in the daylight, the nighttime now greeted. It grew larger with each mile-marker passed, beckoning the mother closer and closer until it towered above her. Green and red numbers gazed down. “Pilot” illuminated, hiding the stars that had tried peaking out. White bathed the rows of pumps. Clean. Operating table sterilized under cool, blinding lights. Void of life. For the mother, it was the warmest blanket on the coldest night. A place that could harbor her son, protect him when she wasn’t around. Safe. Of the streetlight, of the headlight, of the moonlight, and of the starlight too; none but this light guided her to him. Hope.

No Jacky. Exit to exit, station to station, hour to hour, she drove deeper into the dark. Several minutes would pass on the now empty highway. There, cresting the limestone hills. A new light. A new chance…

Again, nothing. A few clerks had thought they recognized the name but not the pale, young face. Hmm, sounds familiar. Does he go by Jack? Don’t know no Jacky. Lots of kids coming in here lookin’ like that. This that kid that stole cigs from here last week?

The dashboard clock flipped over to 1:00 AM. She was far past Georgetown by now. No sign could be seen in the distance, but a dim light had been projecting on to the overcast coverage above for some time now. Over and around a bend, she finally saw it. A light. The Light. The usual glow, growing ever larger.

She took the off-ramp across from The Light. Hang tight now, we’ll get to you shortly, she thought. To her right were her first candidates: two lit up gas stations and the warm, amber comfort of a Waffle House.

She pulled into the first gas station and up to the front. Stepping into the store, she was greeted by the squeak of the door, the low hum of refrigerators, the sickly aisles. No soul. No souls. She approached the front counter.

“ ‘scuse me?” she asked to the rows of cigarette boxes.

She peered over the counter. Left. Right. She waited several seconds before repeating her question with a tap tap on the counter. Nothing. She pulled out her make-shift business card and scribbled some extra words on it. She folded the paper a few times, swaddling it before leaving it on the fire station’s step. The paper didn’t cry as the door squeaked once more.

Outside, the mother stood and contemplated her next move. The occasional highway truck and the ever present wind sang in the background. She decided to let her car rest, opting to walk across the dead avenue to the other gas station. The holy light above the pumps blessed her once more. The inside of the station was pitch black. Doors locked tight. She walked to the Waffle House next door. Inside, a couple hunkered in a booth while the single cook tended to his grill. She spoke to the sleepy waitress manning the restaurant. Hello ma’am. Have you seen my son? This what he look like. No? My sweet boy. He must be so cold out here tonight. Uh-huh, that’s right. Tall and skinny. My Jacky. Jacky Elkins. E-L-Kins. Go by Jack? Not from me. You know him? Yes.

Yes. Yes??? The mother didn’t know what to say. The whole English language emptied from her head. All but one word.

“Jacky?”

“A Jack Elkins comes through here every once and while. Lanky like you said. Polite fella but a bit quiet,” the waitress nodded.

“Y-you seen him tonight?”

“No ma’am, but I seen him walk over to that there Flying J a few times before. Seems to frequent it,” she pointed across the highway to The Light.

“My Jacky. Ohhhh my Jacky…” she muttered to herself as she rushed to the door. “Thank you, thank you!” she shouted over her shoulder.

Back in the dark, she raced across the avenue to her car. She threw open the heavy door and piled in. Fumbling in her purse, she produced an ornament of keys. They jangled as she shoved one into the ignition and turned. And turned. And…

Not even a sound. Succumbed. Finally at peace. Dead.

The mother’s heart drifted back down into her chest from heaven above. She could feel every heartbeat as she sat in the silence. A moment. A sigh. The car door clunked open with a squeal. She slowly pulled herself out, as if possessed to do so. The Light was pointing at her from across the highway. She crossed back over the avenue and towards The Light. The overpass was covered in slush. Grey and black. She marched gingerly through it along the side of the bridge. Her old snow boots and pants soaked. Wind battered her numb face. A new light appeared, soon blinding her. The loud diesel engine kicked into gear, trading the blinding headlights for a deafening roar as the semi passed her. Darkness returned. On and on.

She eventually made it past the bridge and across a small field to the parking lot of the truck stop. The Light hung above her. Past the gas station, rows of semis sat in the dark, wise to wait out the worsening weather until dawn. Gas pumps. Cool lights. Blessings. She exited her baptism and approached the front door. The inside was empty. Mostly empty. She could see a balding man resting his eyes at the counter. Ding-dong! The door chime greeted her. The attendant gasped for air.

“Evening ma’am,” he said while still blinking his eyes awake.

Only three minutes this time. But no Jacky. Not much of anyone but truck drivers that night. She thanked the man and slunk out into the cold. As she breathed in the crisp air, she snorted. The tears she had been holding all day streamed down her face. She whimpered silently to herself, back against the exterior wall. Snow had stopped falling.

“My Jacky…” she whispered through her dry mouth.

She prayed in her head. Lord, I done everything. Everything fir my sweet Jacky. Please. Please, make him safe. Please keep him from harm. Warm his hands, heat his heart. Oh please, everything fir my Jacky. My everything.

She stared through The Light while she recited her plea.

She reached into her purse to grab a tissue. As she pulled one out, her wad of keys fell to the concrete with a clatter. She squatted down to retrieve them among the salt and slush. Something rustled around the corner of the store. She grabbed the keys and walked down along the building. More rustling could be heard as she peaked around the end. Through the dim glow of The Light casting down, she could see the dark outline of a man laying his head on the curb, body on a patch of concrete cleared of snow. Covering him were various articles of trash. Papers, cups, a ripped blanket. All pulled from the nearby dumpster. The mother anxiously watched as the awakened man tossed and turned.

“H-hello?” the man said with a voice as smooth as sandpaper. He couldn’t see the mother but he sensed someone was nearby.

The mother smiled. She walked closer. A large, unkempt beard materialized on the dark figure. Long hair. Tattered coat. A lanky build. The mother didn’t need The Light to tell her what her ears already knew.

“Oh my Jacky…” she said softly.

“Huh?” the man croaked. “Momma?” he spoke as if still dreaming. He struggled to sit up.

She floated towards him, tears drying from her smiling lips.

“Now what on God’s green Earth are you doin’ out in this cold Jacky??? And you ain’t even gotchu yir good coat. OHHH, and them boots!”

She towered over him, illuminated from behind by The Light.

“S-sorry Momma…” Jacky whimpered, his potted face now visible.

She paused for a moment, then crouched down to meet him. Her glowing halo faded to dark.

“That’s al-right now Jacky,” her voice softened. “I’m just happy my sweet boy is safe,” she tidied the blanket on him as she spoke.

“I been looking fir you all day now Jacky! Done drove all the way from Eastland in Lex up ‘75. Almost to Cincy fir crying out loud! What you comin’ up here fir?”

“Buddy of mine… up this way”

“I knew it!!! Jacky them friends ain’t no friends of yirs! They ain’t good fir you, I tell you that ev-a-ery time now Jacky. But you just don’t listen to yir momma! Nuh-uh,” she shook her head.

Jacky grunted.

“I spoke to them officers at the station, told me you was up this way. They were so kind now Jacky, said they could getchu some help.”

“Don’t need no help Momma.”

“Yes you do now Jacky! You gots to get help, ‘specially from yir momma! But I can’t help you none when you run off like this! Off to see them bad friends of yirs. Spendin’ all that time wit them and I ain’t even seen yir face in months. Now, when’s the last time you done called, hmm?”

Jacky began to answer but was interrupted by a fit of coughing.

“OH! My poor Jacky. What’s wrong witcha?” she rubbed his back.

“Th-thirsty.” Jacky mumbled

“Ohhhh my poor Jacky! Dying of thirst!” she wailed. “No one offerin’ even a drop. What can yir momma getcha?”

“Beer,” he spoke with his eyes closed

“Oh Jacky, you don’t need to be drinkin’! You’re so cold already.”

“Beer,” he repeated, as if they were his last words on earth.

“Ok ok, you sit tight now? Momma will get you something.”

Ding-dong! She slipped back into the store, this time the attendant stayed asleep where she last left him. The digital clock on the wall read 2:49. God may have led his mother to him, but he wasn’t about to let Jacky drink. Not legally anyways. The mother quietly maneuvered to the back wall of the refrigerators. She slowly cracked the glass door. Crouching, she grabbed two large cans of beer. Natural Light. Jacky’s favorite. She slipped the contraband into her large coat pocket. Standing up, she checked over her shoulder. Sweet dreams. She started towards the counter but something in her peripheral stopped her. She detoured to grab it from the shelf. A stop by the hot water kettle nearby for a boiling styrofoam cup was also in order. Her mission now complete, she headed to the counter. The attendant sat arms crossed, head drooping, mouth drooling. The mother produced her clutch for the umpteenth time that night and fingered through a few dollar bills. She sat the bills on the counter as peacefully as the attendant. Enough to cover everything, including the beers. Never could steal under the gaze of the Lord, she thought to herself.

Back outside, she carefully carried her treasures to the son. He was again asleep, back turned.

“Jacky, wake up now,” she began uncovering his blanket of trash. Jacky grumbled, remembering the moment he was in.

“You got beer?”

“Yes Jacky, but you’re too cold fir that. You need some sus-TE-nance, some warmth!”

She sat down, placing the scalding hot cup on the curb. She popped the lid, and pulled out her mystery purchase from her pocket: a packet of hot chocolate powder. She ripped the top and carefully mixed the drink with a stirring stick she had also commandeered. The hot chocolate was perfectly mixed in only the way a mother could.

“Here Jacky, you drink this up now and once yir feets is warmed again, you can have some beer.”

The son thought for a moment to protest but remembered the decades of futility from such attempts. He sat up and reached out, taking the styrofoam grail with his shaky hand. He took a sip. Ambrosia.

“Jacky, how many times I done told you ‘bout wanderin’ out in the cold! You worry yir poor momma sick. Sick I tell ya! And you don’t never call. Not even to let me know where you’re headed. Where you’re goin’. I just don’t…”

By the time he had finished his medicine, the mother had moved on to the news of his new baby cousin. Blue eyes, full head of hair already. Gonna be a basketball star, they could already tell.

He placed down the empty cup, his hand less shaky now than before.

“Beer,” he stated and asked both at once.

The mother pulled out the two beers and set them on the curb next to them.

“Now Jacky, you know I don’t like you drinkin’! Especially by yirself. Or with them friends of yirs. They are bad in-FLU-ences! They keep you out all night away from yir momma. Worried sick, they make me! No good, no good at all. You gotta stop seeing them boys. You know how it makes yir momma feel, now dontcha?”

“Yeah momma,” he nodded, pausing now half-way through the first beer.

“That there Daniel. Nuh-uh, I knew from the moment he first done came over after school that he weren’t no good. His momma and papa just done him wrong from the start. Ain’t ever gave that boy any attention, any love. I ‘member when…”

Her wistful tales continued on while her son sat quietly, lips pressed to his can, nodding and grunting when called upon. Up high, The Light shone down upon them, never taking its eyes off the reunited family. Keeping its promise to guide the mother to her everything.

One empty beer can. Then two. The son tried to keep awake but with each new ‘Did I tell you ‘bout…’, his head fell further and further back to the curb. Down and down. He curled to the side. “Uh-huh,” he’d say. “Yep,” he’d continue to reply. On and on.

The mother matched his movements while not missing a story beat. She now laid her head on the curb next to him. Finishing her latest rambling, she paused.

“Hey Jacky?”

“Hmm?” he grunted with eyes closed.

“You gonna come back with yir momma in the mornin’. I’ll make you yir favorites. Bed of hotcakes. Scrambled eggs ‘n ketchup. Tall glass of chocolate milk. How that sound Jacky?”

“Hmm,” he grunted.

“I knew you’d think so,” her voice slowed. Her eyelids met.

“Bless yir heart, so thin now. Yir momma not ‘round to keep flesh on them bones. We’ll fix ya…”

No grunts this time.

“Jacky…”

…

“Jacky you still love yir momma dontcha?”

…

“My sweet Jacky… it’s ok, I just know you do. And if you ever lose yir love out there somewhere, then you ain’t ever gotta worry… cause I have enough love fir the both of us.”

Her last words drifted into the night. Up and up. Kissed by The Light. Through the overcast clouds. Over the moon and past the stars. To heaven as it is on earth.

* * *

“Ma’am?”

Light peaked through her eyelids

“Ma’am, are you alright?” she was rocked to the side gently.

“Ohhh,” she whimpered lightly as she opened her eyes. The soft daylight of a new morning surrounded her.

“Sorry for waking you ma’am, I was afraid we might’ve lost ya!”

A bearded truck driver in sunglasses stood over her.

“Oh no, I’m quite al-right,” her body was shaking from hours of cold. The truck driver reached down to help her sit up.

“What were you doing laying out here in the cold??? You got yourself a home?”

“Oh yes yes, dontcha worry ‘bout me now,” she said as she waved her hand.

“I was just out here looking fir my…” she peered to her right. Two empty beer cans and a crushed styrofoam cup sat on the curb. The bed of trash was scattered about. The snowless patch of asphalt laid bare.

“... my son Jacky,” she finished.

The mother looked up. Up to the large sign towering above. No phosphorescent glow. Just words and dim gas prices. Dead. Burned out from the long night. And yet…

On the very edge of the digital display. The slightest glimmer wavered in and out as sunlight reflected off the glass from the newborn sun. Barely visible, but there. You just need to know where to look.

“Out in this weather? Good Lord… did you end up finding him?”

She continued her upward gaze.

“No,” she said. “Still looking.”