Beacon Boy
(a SF haibun)
by
Teri Santitoro© 10/26/01
Unrestricted Club Use
"I have no idea where the idea for this story/poem came from, other than the idea of children testing what they've been told. I'd originally pictured the story to take place around a satellite dish array, (a Solar System Beacon) but changed it to a lighthouse to fit the Main Project's parameters. This story appears on my own home page at: http://www.angelfire.com/pq/BeCreative/AlienWorld.html
and was also posted to an online writing group, ZipLit."
A darting shadow crossed the lighthouse's courtyard into the darkness of the surrounding buildings and structures. It scurried along the base of the enormous rusted pylons and pipes which supported the lighthouse, hesitating in areas where patches of moving light swept the soaked ground. It crept through the constant drizzle and ocean scented blackness, surefooted but wary, a small boy named Leighl.
Beacon's towering lighthouse was deserted, the maintenance crews gone for now, but the place was always monitored and, if he got caught, there'd be hell to pay.
shadow blending into darkness easy trespass
The area around the tower was off limits, Leighl knew that. But he was on a mission. He pushed the back pack he was carrying under the decayed metal fence, then squirmed after it, deliberately heading for the laser emitters. His tattooed face and black forelock peered around a pylon, his steady gaze on the large tower, standing, like some giant spice shaker, beyond the dented workshed.
The low hum of electricity filled the humid darkness. Leighl gulped in an oddly dry throat.
faded sign
a radiation icon
suddenly nervous
A long time ago--at least 2 standard years--Leighl's father had warned him against playing around the lighthouse:
"Those lasers are dangerous. They kin fry a kid your size! I ever catch you near there, boy, you'll be sorry!"
Leighl didn't doubt it. He knew his father. Still, the place held a morbid fascination for him. Tannen, Beacon's old mechanic, had once told him the same thing. That he'd known a worker who'd been careless while adjusting a lens, and had been cooked alive by a laser.
Leighl thought about the stories he'd heard. How could something you couldn't even touch do that to a person? Were the grownups just jesting with him?
He wondered.
He wondered about it a _lot_.
child's doubt
all warnings produce
more questions
Leighl climbed the immense tower carefully, feeling his way in the semi-darkness. Avoiding the revolving laser, his backpack digging into his thin shoulders, his movements fuelled by determination, he ascended.
When he reached the 3rd platform, he stopped. He sat down to rest a moment, dangling his legs over the edge, studying the bright, revolving beam, it's ever-widening expanse splayed to the sky. It's untouchable surface searing the dark night. He surveyed the area from his vantage point, undetected by the monitors, and saw the dark oceans beyond the spit of ground surrrounding Beacon.
under dripping sky
the glare of a magnified laser
and a steady hum
His backpack lay open beside him, and Leighl fidgeted on the platform. His young curiosity demanded action and answers, but a sudden attack of conscience held him momentarily motionless. He stared at the creature in his lap. The one he'd carried up here in his backpack. It's nose twitched, it's beady eyes blinked. His shock of dark hair fell over his face, hiding him from impending guilt, but he pushed it back, again impatient to get on with his experiment.
quest for knowledge
beyond consideration
determined
Leighl stood, carefully balanced on the small platorm, the timid creature in his outstretched hand.
One toss, and all of his questions were answered.
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