La Sentinelle- My Entry for finishthestory

La Sentinelle

by @Brisby

Raging waves howled their fury against the granite of the lighthouse. Roiled by the gale force winds, the sea surged an endless barrage upon its foe. Beneath a canopy of leaded clouds, the frothy waters would accept nothing less than surrender.

The formidable tower, La Sentinelle, held firm to its duty. Dovetailed blocks flexed with the powerful onslaught to cleave the wall formed by the angry swells. Torrenting waters split, spraying up into the path of the shining lantern’s light.

Within the lighthouse, Hugo washed his dishes to the accompaniment of thunderous echoes. A seasoning of nine years had inured him to the turbulent storms off the coast of Hirveä. Most evenings the crashing waves were naught but background noise. Tonight though, he savored the violent melody of this final personal performance. Tomorrow the relief crew would arrive and he'd be bidding his post farewell.

Like the sea, time was always moving. Traditions of history slid away in the face of advancing technology. La Sentinelle's conversion to automation was cost effective and practical. No more need for a lighthouse keeper. Spreading the towel across the drying rack, Hugo clicked off the kitchen light. He chuffed to himself, wondering if he should get one of those cushy ‘tour-guide’ gigs up in Lutia.

Unperturbed by the waves that lashed the third floor window, he considered the packing he'd left to do. There wasn't much left. His plaid bedding and books could wait for the morning. Clothes wouldn't take long to throw into his worn duffle bag. The old radio would fit in there as well. It wasn't his but he figured that nobody was going to notice it missing. What did an empty lighthouse need for a radio anyway?

Hand trailing along the curved black iron of the railing, Hugo climbed the spiral stairs to the watch room. He crossed to the window, making a note to unpack his camera to take some pictures before he left. The low pressure front would have moved on by then and he could sell the daytime view to tourists.

Another monstrous wave broke against La Sentinelle's side. Subtle tremors shook the floor beneath Hugo’s feet as a wash of water blackened the window. He stepped back from the glass, feeling the tendrils of alarm creep along his spine. For an infinitesimal moment, everything went silent. Gone were the reverberating echos, the creaks from the wooden flooring, and the rush of his hastening breaths.

Sound returned with a vengeance. Sharp cracks and the shrieking shatters of exploding glass from below sent Hugo running to the stairs. The relentless sea had finally broken La Sentinelle’s defenses! Churning waters flooded in, rapidly surpassing the fourth floor. The lighthouse keeper watched the rising waters claim the fifth before turning to flee up the stairs to the lantern room.

Scrambling into the safety of highest room of the lighthouse, Hugo stopped cold. The beacon, that salvation for sailors, was no longer shining. Instead the room was awash with a haze of emerald light.

The power stand-by indicators were still blinking green. Thank God! The power box is near the top. With the amount of power the beacon lamps needed, a short circuit brought on by water logging would have been disastrous. Hugo hastily pulled out the blocky ceramic cut-outs extinguishing the green bulbs. Then a hysterical laughter burst out from within him. For Nine years he had cursed the builders, engineers, makers and administrators- Why the hell was the main power inlet on the fifth floor and why did he need to climb to the top to switch the beacons on and off? The switches should have been on the first floor. And now he was thanking God for the same thing. The shrill noise of breaking glass brought him back to the dire situation.

The tower shuddered under his feet and a loud grating sound reverberated around him adding to the violent sounds of the raging waves, the swirling water filling the tower and then being sucked back, the breaking furniture and the banging of broken window shutters. Hugo went back to the top and sat down on the floor in a tired huff. Fears and questions started to from as his mind quietened to a more coherent pace. Would the water still rise? When was high tide? This crazy storm was way beyond normal, what had caused such massive waves? Would the tower collapse? Escape routes? What about jumping out the leeward side? But if the tower fell it would that side, with the waves pushing it over? Why today, only a few hours of duty left?

Another shudder and loud cracking sounds were enough for Hugo to decide to leave the tower would be best. How? He did not have a life jacket. The life jacket was stowed in the small inflatable which was, if not shredded to pieces against the stones and the furniture, in the tools room and by now under forty feet of water. What did he have? Hugo started to gather items he could maybe use. After long frustrating minutes using a torch light he found nothing of use except a small bundle of a electric wires. The tower was definitely groaning and grinding under him loudly with every crash of the waves, even swaying a bit.

Desperate, Hugo rushed to the stair case. There had to be some way. La Sentinelle would not be his death after the amount of time he had taken care of it. And tower replied, or so it seemed. With a crack muffled by the water and the incessant crashing of the angry sea , several flooring planks broke and floated to the surface. Hugo waded down the staircase and took hold of two pieces as a small hope took root in his heart. Again as if the tower heard his thoughts the small arched window just where he was standing shattered, the wooden frame askew and splintered.

Hugo rushed to tie the two pieces of one inch thick pinewood to himself using the wire and his shirt. One piece about as long as his arm he tied in front, the jagged and splintered edge almost touching his chin. The second slightly longer piece was tied to his back. He climbed onto the splintered frame looking out at the sea from the fifth floor. The wave was impossibly high. It would crash into the beleaguered tower near the fourth floor windows. Hugo waited as the crest of the wave to flattened out to attack the tower and just a moment after it struck he leapt. Angling himself slightly high, like an Olympic diver . After a couple of seconds he crashed into the black roiling waters. Jostled mercilessly and pelted by debris. He did not know what was up or down, the only thing which was good was that he had not scraped the bottom. He let himself go limp, trying to help the wood to float to the surface instead of impeding it. He broke the surface after what seemed a long long time of dread; gulping air and water for a few seconds before opening his eyes.

Hugo spent a many minutes trying to confirm his position relative to the deadly jagged rocks of the bay but to no avail. The waves and the wind had obscured everything and the cold was draining his strength . By sheer luck he found a rock big enough to lie on and he held onto his perch for hours as the storm softened. He swam for the shore when he could make out the outline clearly. Climbing onto the rocky beach he sat on grassy spot where he could lean on a smooth rock and fell asleep.

Blinking in the early morning sunlight Hugo walked to the tower. There he saw why the tower was called La Sentinelle. There were three small graves now damaged and cracked as the platform on which the tower stood was destroyed utterly. He could not read the inscriptions in the bronze plates but the size made it clear that these were children. The legend of the three island princesses who died when their boat was crashed onto the rocks by sea worm just may hold a kernel of truth. Hugo felt at peace sitting there, in the shade of the ruins of La Sentinelle. Then a flicker of understanding turned his face somber. The father of the princesses was also La Sentinelle, a traditional title for the island rulers.

Photo Credit: pixabay.com

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