Sleepless Years

Painting of the Bell Rock Lighthouse. Photo from nationalgalleries.org

The clatter of the tracks seemed to play a song that brought about the same sort of feeling one gets while walking on thin ice in March. A feeling all too familiar to Josef. Sitting across from his grandson, Josef nervously adjusted his thick black-framed glasses on his face. When the whistle blew, he picked up his suitcase which had been laying down next to him, and enfolded it in his arms against his chest. John noticed this.

“We’re here,” he said warmly. Such a good lad. The moment anyone becomes quiet he always tries to fill the silence. He got that from his mother. Josef looked at him with a smile.

“It seems we are,” said Josef. “Would you mind grabbing the rest of it?” John grabbed the two other small bags underneath the seats. The train came to a stop and passengers began flooding out the doors. John led Josef out first, and followed behind, watching his feet closely. After getting off, both men made their way to the payphone to call for a driver. While standing in line for the phone, he heard a bell coming from the end of the station. Suitcase still in hand, Josef looked off in the direction of the sound. Bewildered and entranced, he thought of the last time he heard the bell. Back then he carried all his own bags and suitcases. He was also a bit taller. His glasses not quite so thick. Standing there, he thought he could see a slender silhouette standing beyond the veil of smoke coming from the train. The sound of the bell changed. It sounded dainty and small. The shadow did not move. Though the bell reverberated softly. And for a moment, he almost began walking towards him.

“Pop.”

He froze in his step.

“This way, Pop.” said John.

Josef looked around and saw that he had wandered more than a few feet away. There was no smoke. 

“Oh, yes,” Josef said softly, looking around. He comforted himself with the thought that these spells won’t last. That they would be short lived and by tomorrow night they’d be headed home never to return. Before long the driver arrived. While in the car, both looked out their windows. Josef wondered if John was going to say something. He could sense his eyes shooting short glances at him.

“So, is it anything like you remember?” asked John. Josef adjusted the suitcase in his lap.

“I suppose...” he replied. A few moments of silence followed. John waited for him to say more, but eventually looked down. Josef looked back out the window. “More people than I remember.”

“Mom said you met Grandma here. Is that right?”

“Everyone was here. Including your grandmother.”

“She was raised here too?” asked John.

“Yes. And her mother and father as well,” replied Josef.

“And what were they like?”

“I got on fine with her mother...” Josef stopped short.

“And her father?” John asked leaning towards him insistently.

“...A brute,” Josef said this with a sharpness that he had never used around John before. Even when he was a child. He could sense John was at a loss for words, because there was a long pause. Josef now felt a bit brutish himself. Though John seemed to shake this quite quickly.

“Maybe when we get back to town tomorrow you can show me where you went to university!” exclaimed John enthusiastically. Josef let out a small chuckle. He smiled at John lovingly.

“Yes, maybe, son. But only after we get back to town,” he replied. He watched John stretch out the collar of his thick green sweater with his finger. Poor boy. He got that from his mother too. Just then the car pulled into the driveway of the bed and breakfast. They grabbed their things and made their way up to their room. The room was small, and strongly resembled a log cabin. There were two twin beds and a window looking out to the hazy dark blue sky that always followed after twilight. The naked trees outside tangled with one another and scratched the sky with their branches. The ground was covered with snow. One never would have guessed they were anywhere near that grand city. John opened the window and stuck his head out into the winter air. The musty smell created an unsettling sort of anticipation. Josef thought they must not be too far from the old sanitorium. Luckily, they wouldn’t have to drive by it come morning. Where they were going, they would be getting farther away from it. Though, this was not a comforting thought either.

“Breathe that in Pop! Feels good!” John said. “I’m gonna go get some food delivered. You just hang out here. I’ll be back.” Josef watched as John left the room swiftly to head downstairs to the phone. Josef sat on the bed closest to the window and faced the wall. He took his shoes off and slid them beneath the bed next to his suitcase. He took his suitcase and placed it on the bed. He flipped up the latches on either side and opened it up just a crack. ‘Strange, I thought it would be too big to carry in here. I suppose things aren’t so big anymore,’ he thought.

It was deafeningly silent. Far too quiet. Not so much as a mouse scurrying through the vents. Josef didn’t like it. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stood up. Feeling how stiff his knees had become, he slowly walked over to the window in hopes that the fresh air would relieve the ill feeling. When he opened it wider, wind came gusting in, causing his already loose tie to flap up over his shoulder. He was disappointed to find that it didn’t help the urge to call for a cab and leave. It would be far too easy now to refuse to go there. How it would hurt.

Photo from NYPL Public Domain Archive

Looking outside, there was a thick fog setting in around the wooded surroundings. Josef looked about. He could not even see the gates at the end of the driveway. But looking closer, there seemed to be movement. A shape started to take form. 

He sharply inhaled when he saw that so familiar lanky figure. He was ringing a bell on his bike, riding it in circles. A grown man. In a suit. Riding a bike.

“Glaubst du, du kannst mithalten, Josef?!”

‘That voice... Silliness....That silliness. Never frivolous...’

“Pop!”

Josef spun around to find John standing in the doorway. He looked concerned.

“Don’t lean so far out the window! You’ll fall right out!” he said loudly with food in hand. Josef looked out the window again. Fog. Just fog. All fog. All too much.

“Help yourself, son. I’m going to retire,” he replied.

“...Alright.”

Sometime later, Josef laid still wide awake in his bed. John was awake too. He had been coughing all night long. Josef had been kept awake by the coughing. It began to seem as though the fog from outside was creeping in, because soon he could not see a thing, even with the moon shining brightly. 

Soon he was flying. Not in the air — heavens no. But close. It was bright again. His bike was continuously bumping into rocks along the gravel path. The wind rushing by so fast his eyes burnt. But ahead of him, he could still see him.

“I thought I told you to wear different shoes!” he shouted.

“And make me go slower?! Nice try Josef, old boy!”

After pedaling for a time, they came to a sheer drop. They got off their bikes and began walking with them up along the cliff-edge, side-by-side. 

“You don’t suppose Ottla will say yes?”

“I don’t know, but I’d rather not regret asking.” said Josef.

“You know not many people let their friends marry their sisters.” he said with a sly grin creeping across his face.

Josef shoved his shoulder with a laugh, and hopped on his bike and raced him up to the lighthouse steps. He tailed close behind the whole way. They both went inside and raced up the steps to the top. When they got up to the light, Josef felt through the crate he had left their previously.

“You forgot.”

Josef turned around. He watched him reach in his leather bag he had strapped over his shoulder, and he pulled out what Josef had been looking for. A large lightbulb. It strongly resembled a bulb one would use in their house lamps, only quite a bit larger.

“I got a new one yesterday,” he said with a smile. Both smiled at one another. Josef watched as he unscrewed the old bulb, and screwed in the new one. They both took a step back, and watched as the light illuminated around them. Josef thought to himself Why does Filip care so much that the light never goes out? He would go as far as to knock on Josef’s door every third Sunday to come here. Sometimes just to check on it. He struggled to understand it. But all he knew was that when they came to this place, he lost that somber glint he always carried with him. He looked at Josef, and sighed. Both men walked out to the rail just outside, and looked over the edge down to the Baltic Sea. 

“Is your father wondering where you are?” asked Josef

“I’m sure,” he scoffed. Suddenly the smile on his face began to fade. “Imagine what he’ll say when I tell him where I’m going.”

“You haven’t told him?”

“No. It’s proven to be difficult. Imagine that.” he said. Josef noticed that sad glint return. “If I’m being honest, I’m thinking about not going to that place.” Filip turned his back to him. And just then, he fell to his knees, hacking.

Josef felt a jolt of cold. His ears felt violated.

“Pop!”

Josef jumped awake. He heard John hollering from outside followed by the honk of a cab horn. Laying there, with the realization that it had all been a dream, he could not muster up the will to move. Or to think. After some time, John came running upstairs to the room again. He helped him sit up, and held his weight so he wouldn’t hit the top of his head on the headboard.

“Forgive me my boy. I seem to have--” his voice began to cave in just slightly, “--I seem to have fallen through time. Will you help me up?” John helped his grandfather stand up. Josef thanked him and said he’d be outside shortly. John left the room. He met him downstairs by the car. It was so early that the moon was still out and the deep blue still hung in the sky. Josef tried to wipe the side of his face dry before John noticed the wet streaks.

“I guess you never told me how long it’s been since you’ve been to this place,” said John in the car. Josef looked down. He had not the energy to smile.

“Sixty years,” he mumbled.

“In ‘22?’”

“About that time, yes.”

“Did you ever take Grandma there?” he asked.

“Only once. After that she didn’t like it there very much. She made me promise to not take her there.”

“Why?” asked John.

“It made her cry.”

John fell silent. Perhaps he had finally figured he didn’t want to talk. They both sat in silence for the rest of the ride. Finally, they pulled into a paved parking lot. John quickly got out of the car. Josef still sat in his seat, not present. He was staring at the red upholstery of the car seat in front of him. A deep scarlet. The moonlight did not do it justice. It only made it look more menacing. John knocked on the window. Josef still sat there. He didn’t like the red. It looked too much like blood. Even worse when it hits against the white of a tissue one uses to cough in to. 

“Let’s go, Pop,” said John. Josef finally tore himself away from the red, and opened his door. John offered his arm so he wouldn’t slip in the snow. He pretended he wasn’t there. For now, his eyes were fixed on a new sight. It was still so strong and tall. The front steps looked just as it had before. Enough of this. Sixty years is enough.

 Josef raced up over the mound to the steps. He ran. About halfway up, he stopped to briefly catch his breath, but then kept going. When he got to the top, he was out of any and all energy. Though he didn’t seem to notice. He stared up at the old light. John eventually caught up.

“You forgot your suitcase,” he said, gasping for breath. Josef took the suitcase from him and flipped open the hatches. He pulled out the bulb. Much smaller than the ones he used to carry.

“Come, boy. Help me,” he said. John walked over and helped Josef unscrew the old bulb from its place. Josef then placed the new one in position and screwed it in. These new lights, they don’t blind you like the old ones did. Both stood to marvel at the light for a moment. Josef absorbed the warmth of the electricity, then bent down and grabbed the envelope that was also sitting in his suitcase. He held it in his hand. He began to tremble. He wasn’t sure he could go through with it. He had come all this way. And had been bearing it for so long. If not now, then he felt he himself may die. But wouldn’t doing this mean the same thing? He had no regrets. He had been a husband, father, grandfather...a friend. Hopefully a good one. Leaving John to admire the light, he walked through the door to the outside railing and looked down at the Baltic Sea. The waves were crashing. Feeling the wind, Josef could feel a sharp pain. Then, he wailed.

“I’m sorry, Filip! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Es tut mir leid!”

John said nothing.

“I shouldn’t have let you stay! You were sick! So sick!” cried Josef, tears gushing from his eyes. “I should have dragged you there myself! I should have dragged you!” He stopped only when he felt a cold breath next to him. There he stood. Tall, lanky, well dressed...grey eyes. That smile he always gave when he was about to say something smart.

“Crying now are we, old boy?”

Josef didn’t move. He searched. He couldn’t find any glint. Then, he watched him fade away with the breeze. Quickly, before he changed his mind, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out the photo he had held onto for longer than any of his children had been alive. A photo of himself, sitting on a beach. Next to him, Filip. Hands playing with the sand. The only one he ever sat for. He was always so camera shy. He held out his arm and with a sharp inhale, released it to the wind. He watched in the passing rays of light the photo glide away. It just began sailing down when it went out of sight. 

‘Goodbye, old friend. Now, we both sleep.’