From here it’s wide and empty and from here you can scarcely see either side of Maryland and there’s nobody around anywhere in sight to make noise or say anything, except me and my husband Sam. We tend a lighthouse on a shoal in the middle of the Chesapeake. They built it after two tankers ran aground two years in a row and spilled everywhere. And they needed somebody to keep it running. Sam was looking for work and they said we could both be paid and we had nowhere else to be so we went. And this view of the bay really never gets old. It’s just infinite water in every direction.
There is a log in the water, thirty or so feet away. It looks about the same size as those tankers on the plodding along the horizon. It’s really special, this log, a whole tree really, somehow floating all the way out here with me and Sam in the middle of nowhere. There’s no other logs out here in the middle of the bay. I would tell my husband about it but he’s not here right now. He must be downstairs.
With the light on everybody steers well clear of us, except the twice monthly when Max brings supplies. Max is an older man in the coast guard. Real nice. He brings supplies to all the keepers in the bay. Which there are less of now. We get old and they put in machine lampchangers.
Today is when Max comes by. I watch the log until I see his boat appear on the horizon, gently bouncing over waves on its way. I go downstairs to get Sam but he’s not in the kitchen or anywhere. I guess he must be in the bathroom. I can get the food myself.
Our lighthouse has a long wood dock which juts out just beyond the sharp gray rocks that surround the shoal. I walk to the end, getting there just as Max is easing his boat up to the edge of the dock. He says some greeting from a little too far away on the boat and its specifics are eaten by the wind. I say one back. Then he throws me a rope and I tie it to a steel cleat. He grabs a bag of rice; I grab a two canvas bag of vegetables and meat. We start back down the dock.
Midway to our lighthouse he sets down the rice, and turns to me. “You know, they’ve been wanting to automate this one for a while, Sue.”
I give Max a half smile. “You sound like Sam. He keeps telling me we really ought to just let them plug it in, go back to land. But I like it here, and I get my husband all to myself.”
I look at Max and he seems a little sad. His lips are pushed together, and his brow is furrowed. He picks the rice back up and walks ahead of me on the dock.
Inside I call for Sam but he doesn’t respond. He must still be occupied, which I say to Max, who gives me that same odd look. I knock on the bathroom door, twice, to which he doesn’t respond. He left the door unlocked so I open it. It’s empty. I guess he must be back upstairs taking a nap. He’s been sick a lot recently, so that makes sense. It’s alright. I can get everything put away myself anyway.
As Max stands at the door he turns to me once more. “Sue…” he trails off. “Please take care of yourself.”
I watch through the window as he leaves. On the way out he leaves a little pair of daffodils on a little rock off to the side of the dock. I watch his boat disappear over the horizon. That log is still out there, maybe forty feet off the dock now. I’ll make dinner tonight for Sam. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it, just me and him with nobody around anywhere in sight to make noise or say anything.