The Legend of the Light Keeper (The Light Keeper Series Book 1) (3 page)

“It was so awesome, Mom. You should see Talon ride! He’s so good.” I tried to change the mood, but Talon kept his head down, and fidgeted with his socks.

“I’ll bet. You’ll have to show me sometime.” Mom eased up, but Talon steered clear of her and headed to his room.

“Mom, we’re going to the neighbor’s house later. Their granny is going to tell us more about the local legends. Owen said this place has been on TV and in
National
Geographic
. This place.” I pointed my finger to the floor and laughed.

“Yeah, I hear it has a real history. Tom said that we were lucky to get this land when we did. The Historic Society has stopped further development out here. No more land is to be cleared or sold because they want to make some sort of preserve.” Her interest faded from the conversation and she started cleaning again. I sat there a while to see if she’d continue, but she didn’t. After making small talk, I gave up and made my way to my bedroom.

I stopped in the hallway. Talon’s door was open and he was sitting at his computer with wet hair. “What are you doing’?” I asked, hoping for an invite in. There wasn’t much to do in my room. He clicked his mouse and motioned me in.

“I’m looking up this ‘Ghost Light’ stuff to see what’s out there.”

“You have any luck?” I made my way in and watched over his shoulder.

“Well, as a matter of fact…” He pointed to the screen. As I leaned over to read it, my hair spilled onto his shoulder and swept his cheek. I quickly pulled it to the other side.

“Sorry.” I backed away.

He smiled. “It’s okay. Nice shampoo.” As soon as I registered what he’d said, I wondered if it was sarcasm. I smelled my hair to check, hoping that the helmet had protected it from any gross woodsy smell. Luckily it had.

He scrolled down the page, and at the bottom he found a photo of the metal sign that we’d seen on our way in, along with a brief history. Talon read parts of it aloud. “Bragg, Texas, named after General Braxton Bragg from North Carolina.” He raised his brows. “It seems the town really
did
exist.” He continued, “The Santa Fe branch was built in 1902 to carry supplies to Beaumont, Texas. There was a post office that ran until 1914, the tracks were abandoned in 1934, and later pulled up in 1935.” He paused and glanced at me for my reaction. “That’s not a very long history. The rest are just links to articles about the Light.”

“Are there other pictures, maybe one of the Light?” I asked. He clicked down the different links to find more.

The search engine pulled up thousands of pictures of ghost light locations around the world.
It’s obviously not as uncommon as I expected
. The only other pictures of the road were taken in the daytime, nothing scary there, and nothing we couldn’t see from our front door.

Talon shut the computer down and turned his chair to watch me as I perused his room. He had all sorts of trophies, posters, and mementos. My room had been filled with that sort of stuff before the storm, but not now. Before I could get too miserable, something caught my eye. In the corner of the room there was a guitar on a stand by an amplifier. It was midnight blue, almost black, with little silver flecks. “Wow, you play?” I asked in amazement.

Talon nodded. “Since I was eight.” He ran his fingers through his messy, wet curls and held back a shy grin.

“That’s awesome! You’re so talented. I can’t do anything. I want to, I just can’t.” I shrugged. “Will you teach me to play? I‘ve always wanted to learn.” I cocked my head to the side and waited for a reply.

“It would be a lot safer than teaching you to ride my dirt bike,” he said.

“Would you really?”

“Sure, I guess, if you want.” He stifled a laugh as I nodded eagerly.

“I do!” I wanted to do everything. Life was too short. Too many things could come and take everything away: hurricanes, drunk drivers and maybe even the Shadows. I sat on the floor in front of him, still amazed.

“What do you think of the guys?” He motioned to the house next door. I could see it through his window.

“They’re really…interesting, especially Hunter. He’s kind of weird. I mean it’s hard sometimes to tell if he’s serious. I’m not really used to all of this brotherly teasing.”

“I think Owen likes you.” The comment was unexpected and as the heat crept to my cheeks, I turned my head to hide my blush.

“Really?” I played dumb. Owen had made it obvious all day that he was interested. In what, I didn’t know. He made me feel uncomfortable, and I wasn’t quite sure if that was a good or bad thing. What I did know was that Talon put me at ease and made me feel like everything was going to be okay.

“So what do you think? Or do you have a boyfriend already?” he asked.

“Nope, no boyfriend, though I did have one months ago, but like everything else, he’s gone too. I guess some good came out of the hurricane.” I laughed. I figured he’d ask more about that, and then I’d have to explain that Brayden, my ex, dumped me in the midst of the biggest tragedy of my life, but he didn’t.

“Would you go out with Owen if he asked?”

“I don’t know.” I felt embarrassed. Owen was good-looking. He was the type of boy I always fell for, who always seemed to break my heart,
if
they gave me the time of day. “He’s nice and all, but I — Why?” I eyed him suspiciously. “Do you know something I don’t? Is he going to ask me out?” I knew better.
When had he had the time to say anything to Talon about asking me out?

“Probably, eventually, since he
gawked
at you all day.” He laughed, but something in his tone and the way his brows pinched seemed like the thought of it bothered him.
That’s just a wish, a silly, disturbing wish that Mom would never let happen
.

“What about you? Any girlfriends?” My gaze met his directly.

“What? You think I should have more than one?” He smiled and then tucked his chin to stare at the floor. As a matter of fact, I did think he’d juggled more than one a time or two.

“Well, do you have
one
then? What happened to the girl who texted you
six
times
during the first dinner date?” My tone sounded a little too put out.

“You were counting?” he asked with a laugh. His brows rose in surprise. “That’s Angie.” His tone dulled. “I broke up with her months ago. She keeps texting, calling and emailing, and she can’t take no for an answer, so I’ve resorted to ignoring her. Moving away has helped a little, but not much.”

“A stalker? Interesting. I could take care of her if you want. I could answer your phone next time and tell her that we ran away and got married.” I chuckled.

He laughed. “Yeah, two days in the back woods and I’m marrying my sister.”

“I’m not your sister, not yet,” I said. The conversation took a strange pause, and I felt stupid for saying such a thing. I didn’t want to sound desperate or make a suggestion that he might find repulsive, and just as I was about to apologize, he spoke.

“What if you were never going to be? Would you go out with someone like
me
?”

“That’s not a fair question.” I was shocked he’d asked, and I wasn’t about to answer him, so I decided to throw it back at him. “Well, would
you
ask me out? I mean someone
like
me?” I clarified, looking him right in the eyes, wanting so terribly to read them.

He gazed down and something played across his face, a mixture of feelings and uncertainty. “You’re right, that isn’t a fair question.” And with that, the conversation was over.

As he finished deleting Angie’s messages from his phone, I read one of his skateboarding magazines.

When it was dark, I freshened up and we headed next door.

THE BROTHER’S
HOUSE
was way over decorated, but tidy, and it smelled of fresh lemons. “Nice place,” I said, giving a smile to Owen, who stared at me, grinning ear to ear.

“Thanks. Granny runs a tight ship.” He motioned to his tiny, gray-haired grandmother who was kicked back watching TV from a huge blue recliner that practically swallowed her up. She peered over her glasses and smiled at us. She seemed to be in a much better mood than the last time I saw her.
Maybe she found her shovel
.

“Hi,” she said, waving her hand. She was cute and appeared way too small to be related to the two much bigger boys.

“Granny, this is Talon and Lily, our new neighbors, and this is our grandmother.”

“My name’s Ida, but you can call me Granny, everyone does.” She winked.

“Nice to meet you,” Talon said. We gave her another smile and then followed Owen to the kitchen where Hunter was gathering up food to take outside.

“Come on out.” Hunter led us out the back door to a big patio area. A fire ring burned in the center with an odd assortment of lawn chairs surrounding it. There was a big stainless steel grill just off to the side.

Owen pulled out a chair and asked me to have a seat. He took the one next to me. Talon sat on my other side and inched his chair toward mine and the fire.

Owen leaned forward and poked a stick in the fire pit. “Granny will be out once her show is over; she never misses it,” he said.

It appeared to be just them and their grandmother living there. I wondered what happened to their parents but figured it wasn’t a good idea to ask. They were obviously blood brothers. They looked so much alike except that Hunter was a bit taller and thicker. I couldn’t help but be curious about them, so I decided to start with a harmless question.

“How old are you two?” I asked Owen, who’d stirred the embers until his stick was aflame.

“I’ll be sixteen in a few more months. Hunter will be seventeen just after. We’re only eleven months apart. What about you two?” He stared directly at me, as if he was only really interested in my answer.

“My sixteenth is next week.” I looked at Talon, curious about his answer. It was sad how little I’d learned about him.

“I’m seventeen, just turned.” Talon grabbed a stick of his own and joined Owen in poking the fire.

“How long have your parents been married?” Owen asked. Talon stifled a laugh.

“Um, they aren’t married, yet,” I answered. It was embarrassing that our parents were shacking up, but I wanted him to know that Talon and I were not related in any way.

“Yeah,” Talon said. “We have to see how well we get along first.”

“When’s the wedding?” asked Owen.

“It’s set for October twenty-fourth.” It was one week before Halloween. I’d told Mom to consider Halloween, since her getting married was sort of like a nightmare, but she didn’t think that was funny at all.

“How
are
you two getting along?” Hunter asked. Owen glared at him and waited for our answer.

Talon and I laughed it off. “I think I can handle her quirks,” he said, and then he punched playfully at my shoulder. I punched back. Owen had a sour look as if he didn’t like the idea of me and Talon being so chummy.

The conversation continued as the boys told jokes and teased each other in ways it seemed only boys could and still be friends. Being a girl didn’t exclude me though, and I tried to take it all lightly like one of the guys. It was nice to spend time with friends again, and I felt more at home around the fire than I had in months. Finally, Granny stepped outside to join us. She took tiny, careful steps and made her way to the ring of chairs beside Owen.

“Well, ain’t that a sight! You kids should be out running the roads, not holed up at home with an old woman like me.” She was a spunky one. Her voice was much bigger than she was. I could tell that I was going to get along great with her.

She suddenly turned to me and said, “Well, you
are
a pretty one.” She nudged Owen, who smirked. I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d said about me.

“So, do you kids want to hear some history or some mystery?” The firelight flickered across her face, and with the night sounds and the crackle of the fire, I felt like I was in a scary movie.

“How ‘bout a little of both?” Hunter said, as he passed around a tray of food. As we got settled in, a motor started in the distance.

Owen explained, “That’s just Mr. Hill’s lawnmower.”

“Speaking of mystery,” Granny began, waving her crooked finger at Hunter, “I know that man stole our shovel.” She motioned to the old man as he meandered down the drive on his mower. I barely caught a glimpse of him as he rode past the little space I could see into the front yard. If it weren’t for the help of the security lights, I’d have missed him completely.

“Who is he?” I asked as the sound of his mower faded in the distance. “Why does he mow at night?”

“He’s not mowing,” Hunter explained. “He’s just a crazy old man. He’s always coming and going on that mower since he doesn’t own a car, and he keeps the strangest hours.”

“And steals shovels,” Granny added. She was full of spirit all right, and she had a temper. Hunter laughed at her.

I had wondered who lived in the little wreck of a trailer on the end. “Why do you think he stole your shovel?” I asked.

Granny looked at me, her eyes serious. “To dig, of course.” She threw her hands out, like it was so obvious.

“Yes, but why? You either dig to find something or to hide something.” It seemed like a fair enough question. Who would go out in the night to dig for no reason? There was something going on with the strange man next door.

“Who knows?” Granny said. “Hell, for that matter, who cares? I just wish he’d quit stealing my damned shovels.” I was still perplexed, but decided I better not go on about it. Granny was getting worked up, and I was afraid the little lady just might keel over with anger.

We munched as Granny began our lesson. “There’s a lot of history around these parts; old legends and superstitions too,” she began. “Years ago, in the late 1800s, a man found some mineral springs out here. They called them ‘medicinal waters,’ and some believed that they had healing powers. The sulfuric stench of the water had to have smelled like the dickens, but it wasn’t enough to keep people from ’taking the water,’ as they called it. People came from miles around to bathe in, and even drink, the stinky stuff.

“It was very popular with high society folk and politicians in those days, and the elite traveled in from everywhere to stay in hotels that offered such spas. Anyway, the area became popular for that, as well as the fact that they’d discovered oil over in Saratoga, even before the Spindle Top gusher in Beaumont.”

I had heard of the Spindle Top gusher. Everyone in Southeast Texas schools had, and at some point in their elementary school level, taken a field trip to the Spindletop-Gladys City Boomtown Museum in Beaumont, which is where the gusher happened. Talon nodded, showing me he knew the reference as well. Granny continued.

“With the oil and the timber in this area, they decided to build the railroad branch from Bragg to Saratoga. It would take supplies from Saratoga to Beaumont every day. It seems that’s all it took, and the little town was booming. Of course, like all small towns, rumors get started and legends are formed. From the start there was a rumor of a foreman who hired a crew of Mexican workers to lay the tracks for the new branch. He’d promised to pay them their fair wage, but when the work was done, he killed them all and kept the money for himself. Supposedly he poisoned their water. It was all just speculation, but it was rumored he buried them along the tracks. They’re said to haunt the road to this day. When you see the Light, it’s their souls seeking revenge. Some even say that when the bodies decayed in their shallow graves, it spoiled the land, making it sour.” I thought of the water at our house. Something was making it stink. I wondered if Talon was thinking the same thing.

“There are a lot of other myths.” Granny balled up her napkin and threw it into the fire. I watched the fire consume it and turn it to ash that sparkled orange as it floated up from the pit. “Some of them stem from actual historic events, like the Kaiser Burnout.” I’d never heard of any “burnout” and Talon didn’t speak up.

“Well, back in the Civil War days, there were Jayhawkers, or draft dodgers. They hid out in the woods here in the Big Thicket to keep from having to fight. They knew the area well and were doing a very good job hiding. So good, in fact, that General Kaiser thought up the
brilliant
idea to burn them out of hiding.” She shook her head. “He set the woods on fire, burning thousands of acres, so naturally legends formed. Some believe that the Light is the burning spirits of the Jayhawkers who died here, though there were no deaths officially reported. Some even go as far as to say that the Light is the ghostly remnants of the fire that was never extinguished. Legends grow over time, they change, or just disappear, but the one fact remains: the Light exists.”

“I told you there was some history here.” Owen smirked.

“Well, there’s more, actually.” She placed her finger on her chin. “Some say that Spanish conquistadors hid a bunch of gold out here and never came back for it. So, when you see the Light, it’s actually their spirits looking for it. Some believe that the Light is the gold itself, shining like a beacon.

“I’ve also heard that it’s a lost hunter looking for his way home and even one story about a groom looking for his lost bride. They’d been honeymooning in the Bragg Hotel.” She giggled.

“I think the most popular story of course, is the one about the headless brakeman. Many years ago, a railroad worker got hit by a train while on duty and was decapitated. It’s said that he still roams along the tracks, swinging his lantern, looking for his head.”

“Are there any other theories?” Talon had been so quiet that I jumped when he spoke. “You know—something more scientific.”

“Well, yes, there are.” She sighed and took a deep breath. I was amazed that there were so many legends to explain one phenomenon.

“Some say it’s foxfire, swamp gas, ignis fatuus or will-o’-the-wisp. Then there’s ball lightning and aliens, and even some that discount it as headlights from the road at the other end. And sure, you can see the car lights now at times, but those people don’t realize that there weren’t many cars back when the Light first appeared. And if you’ve ever seen the actual Light, you’d know the difference. There’s not much debate
if
the Light exists, but rather
what
it is. I guess if you asked anyone who’s lived around here for any length of time, they’d have their own story about seeing the Light.”

“Do you?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I sure do—, she said as Talon’s cell phone sounded.

The screen lit up as he checked it. “Sorry, that’s Lily’s mom. We have to get going.”

“Can you finish another time? I’m dying to hear your story,” I said, regretful that we had to leave.

“Certainly, you’re both welcome anytime,” Granny said. “It’ll be nice having a girl around for a change; these boys get a little rowdy.” She got up and hugged me goodbye. She reminded me so much of my own grandmother and even smelled like her. I missed my Gram.

“Thanks for everything,” Talon said. “It’s been fun and very interesting.”

“We’ll have to go out riding again soon,” Hunter suggested.

“Anytime, just come on over.” Talon motioned to our house and then led the way home.