Bill followed the pipe smoking man down the cobblestone street of Tuckamore Bay. As he looked around, he noticed that it was unusually quiet. Not a single light could be seen in the village, save for the street lights near Tucker's General Store and the Community Center.
When the man passed the Community Center, he turned down the small road that led to the village's cemetery.
"Figures," Bill sighed, as he started down the short path the carried him to the main cemetery.
The man walked past all the headstones and started walking up the small hill, that was directly behind the main cemetery.
There he stopped and stood silently, puffing on his pipe.
Bill walked to his side.
"I assume there is a reason we are here?"
The man pointed to a small mound a few feet from where they stood.
Bill's mind flashed to a scene in a Christmas Carol.
"My headstone is not going to suddenly appear there is it?"
The man chuckled.
"No William."
"Am I going to be visited by three spirits or something?"
"Three spirits?"
Bill shook his head.
"Never mind. But why are we here?"
"There is someone here you need to meet."
Bill looked around.
"Who?"
When he turned back, the pipe smoking man was gone.
"Just great. Now what am I supposed to do?"
For a moment, Bill thought about walking back to his house and crawling into the big, warm, comfortable bed, but he decided against it and instead, lit a cigarette and sat on the grass, near the mound, on the small hill.
"I am going to have this smoke and when I am finished, I am going back to my house," Bill commented aloud, to anyone who might be listening.
The only response he got was the sound of waves hitting the shoreline.
Bill finished the cigarette in silence and after snuffing it out on his heel, he stood up and stretched.
"This was a waste of time."
Bill took a couple steps down the hill, when a voice made him stop.
"You are going the wrong way, young Williams."
Bill took a deep breath and turned.
Another spirit was standing on the hill, next to the small mound.
There was a familiarity about him, but Bill could not exactly put his finger on it.
YOU ARE READING
Tuckamore Bay
General FictionMatty Dove had 18 months to try and find a buyer for her late grandmother's lighthouse. A buyer who, she hoped, would not only buy the lighthouse, but love the village so much that they would invest time and money into saving the community. In 18 mo...
