Two Masked Hearts - ✓ #WattysShorts

Seven

The sun sat low in the sky, casting golden rays across the town. I walked along a stone path to the door to the lighthouse, where Miles stood waiting for me.

"Hi," he said, waving in my direction.

"Hi," I said back. If he was at all nervous, he did a phenomenal job covering it.

Miles reached into his pocket and pulled out a key ring, dangling them so the metal keys clinked together.

"What are those?" I asked. They looked more like house keys than car keys.

He was smiling under his mask, still the same one speckled with stars. Upon second look, I noticed little planets nestled between star clusters. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. "They're the keys to the lighthouse." He gestured to the massive tower looming over us. "Shall we?"

I grinned. I'd never been in this lighthouse. In any lighthouse, for that matter. "How'd you get those?"

"One of the fishermen at the port owns the lighthouse. He was really good friends with my father. I helped him out today and asked if I could borrow them."

"Wow," I said in awe. "Let's go!"

Miles approached the entrance, trying multiple keys until the large metal door finally swung open, groaning a little from the movement. "M'lady," Miles said, gesturing for me to go first.

I giggled at his chivalry and curtsied before I entered the lighthouse. It was pretty small. Really the only thing was a huge metal spiral staircase.

"Have you ever been in here?" I asked, my eyes scanning the perimeter. There were cabinets, each of them with keyholes. I wondered what they held, so I walked up to one and jiggled the handle, but it didn't open.

"Yeah, I've come here a few times when I was younger," he answered, coming to stand next to me.

"What's in here?"

Miles shrugged. "Fishing stuff. Tackle, lines. Lots of old memorabilia from the town, if I can remember correctly."

"Do you have the key?"

Miles inspected the key ring, and I noticed one that looked very old fashioned, like it was made for a large chest. "I don't think we should open them," he said, scratching the back of his neck with his empty hand.

"Why not? I don't think we should steal anything."

"I don't want to get in trouble," he said, a bit of edge to his voice. "Mr. Warren trusted me with these keys."

"Sorry," I said, reflexively stepping back and holding up my hands. "I don't want to get you in trouble. I just thought we could take a peek." I wondered where the mischief went. It was dark in the lighthouse, but I didn't see any amusement in his eyes.

"Shoot, I'm sorry," he said, kicking the ground. "Just one peek wouldn't hurt, would it?"

I shook my head, smiling. "Give me the keys. If I did it, there's no reason you'd get in trouble." I felt a slight pang of guilt encouraging him to do something he seemed uncomfortable with, but he quickly handed me the key ring.

I took them, flipping to the weird old key. I put it into one of the locks and twisted it, hearing a satisfying click. I turned the knob and opened the door. I couldn't see much other than obvious cobwebs, but I reached in. My hand grasped a wooden object, and I pulled it out, revealing it to Miles. He looked confused at first, then he burst out laughing.

"What?" I asked, then looked at what I was holding. It was a sign that said, NO CLOTHES NO PROBLEM. I began cackling uncontrollably until Miles shushed me, still unsuccessful at stifling his own laughter.

"Oh my God, I've heard stories about how there used to be a nude beach here." Miles held his hand on his chest as he inhaled heavily, trying to regain composure.

"Your fisherman friend must've been a regular goer to the beach! He must be some free spirit."

Miles shook his head apparently in disbelief. "No way. Mr. Warren is just like any old crotchety man. White hair, a cane, and a Trump flag on his boat."

"I think he's definitely a nudie," I disagreed, wiggling the sign in his face. Miles pushed it out of the way, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Get that unholy thing away from me. I don't wanna envision his gross old thing out in the open."

"I just want to know why you're thinking about his gross old thing in the first place." Miles's eyes grew wide at my joke and I thought I saw a little bit of redness creep onto his face through the dark.

"Ew, ew, ew! Just put that away. I never want to think about this ever again."

"I think we should hang it in your room."

"No, put it away," he insisted, his tone still light. "I wanna show you something."

I put the nude beach sign back in its cabinet and locked it. Miles started up the stairs, and I followed behind him. I wondered if it was safe to touch anything in here, but I had already touched the keys and the cabinet, so I used the railing to steady myself as we climbed the spiral. He stopped, and I looked up to see a ceiling. He turned a latch and opened a door to another floor.

We climbed through into the glass area that held a giant spotlight. It was still light out, so the lighthouse wasn't turned on yet. Miles opened another door that led outside to a platform with a railing circling around the entire lighthouse. I kept following, until we could look out over the rocks into the vast ocean.

"Wow," I said, breathless from the view. "This is incredible."

"I know, right?"

"It really gives a whole new perspective on something you've seen a hundred times."

I could see where I was staying. Beyond that, I could see teeny lights in the distance, where people were inside sitting down for dinner, their kids watching cartoons before they had to get ready for bed. There were people falling in love, and there were people falling out of love. People were sick, but others were healthy. Some were sick and didn't even know it. There was a virus on the rampage, slowly destroying civilization just a little bit, and maybe simultaneously destroying people a little bit, too. I was horrified by what we'd become. Or maybe what we always were.

"Come here," Miles told me, and I followed him around until we could see the town clearly. "There's the bookstore." He pointed to the row of shops. I could barely make out the signs from here. "I love this place," he told me, "I do. But I want to get out of here."

"Where do you want to go?" I asked.

"The city. Somewhere big, much bigger than here."

"Why?" I asked. I would kill for a quiet life like this. My hometown wasn't even that busy, but I wished to live in a small community where every face was familiar, a friend.

"I want change. I'm terrified of it, but I crave it nonetheless." He looked down at the railing. I wondered if he was afraid of heights. My legs felt a little wobbly, especially with the wind so strong up here, but he stabilized me. "I hate trying new things."

"We should change that," I told him.

"I don't know if I can."

"Well, I can help you have new experiences." Miles looked at me, tilting his head a little. I smiled, dozens of ideas forming in my head. "Let's go. I'll take you to my house."

"I don't know if that's safe," he said, sounding very unsure. I understood his concern, I did.

"I can open up my jeep," I told him. "We'll wear our masks and stay outside. We can order pizza and light a fire. We'll be really careful."

He nodded, slowly at first, then more sure. "Okay, let's do it."