Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
As soon as my shift ends at Pleasant Coffee on Friday, I fly out of there, practically running home, going as fast as my feet can take me.
I pass by the convenience store and wave at Mrs. Kim, who I spent the evening with yesterday.
She taught me a simple japchae recipe that we cooked together on the small single-burner hot plate she keeps in her office, and I wrote down the recipe to attempt on my own at home.
The rest of the week is almost a blur to me.
The creamer went down really well, and our customers are loving it.
Sarah gave me a rare pat on the back, and I thought I was going to pass out.
It took everything in me not to hold the back of my hand against her forehead and ask her if she was well. That wouldn’t have helped things.
I’ve done a lot of thinking about what Priya said to me when we were together after hours at the cafe, and I want to talk to Dylan this weekend.
I want us to really talk and see if there is any sort of plan we can come up with.
If it weren’t for the kids, I know I could convince him to come into my time with me sooner in order to save him, but he won’t.
He would never leave, knowing that the two brothers would fall into the ocean. That’s just not him.
It’s unbearable, knowing I could lose him, but I also love him for it. My time with him feels like sand slipping between the cracks of my fingers. I’m struggling to hold on.
I want so desperately to hold on.
I make the half-hour drive to the lighthouse, my fingers drumming along the steering wheel as I distract myself with my favourite artist.
When I finally pull up, I have to do a double take as soon as I spot the lighthouse.
It’s been five days since I was last here, and the structure is literally falling apart.
There’s a new warning sign that’s been placed in front of the path, telling people not to go near the “dangerous” structure.
There are huge holes in it where pieces of concrete have cracked and fallen to the ground.
All the windows are shattered, and the red door is faded to almost a light pink with long scratches running through the wood.
I pull out my phone and take a picture, then scroll back to my last photo of it.
The difference is stark.
Killick Point is falling apart, and I don’t know why.
Instead of getting out and going to see Dylan, as badly as I want to, I put the key in the ignition and pull back onto the road, driving until I spot a friendlier sign welcoming me into Killick Bay.
“Please, Iris, please,” I mutter as I drive to the main street and park my car. I’m in a full-blown panic right now, and I have to find her. Something is going on, and it’s not good. The warning sign is new, and that can’t mean anything good. I have to get to the bottom of this.
I walk the streets, going into each shop, hoping she’ll be there.
Nothing yet. Only locals and tourists going about their afternoons, sipping coffee, and chatting with one another.
No cares in the world. It’s so strange to see everyone just living their life while I’m shattering on the inside, falling apart like the lighthouse.
I have one more place I can check. I make my way to the docks and step down the stairs until my feet hit the wooden boards.
Turning right, I head over to the bench we’ve sat at before.
As I get closer, I see someone sitting there, long, grey hair spilling out behind the bench and a tie-dyed cane resting beside it.
I let out a breath of relief and walk over to her, placing a hand on her bony shoulder.
“Iris, it’s Lucy.”
She turns and stares at me with her almost-grey eyes.
She looks so tired in the present. Her face is filled with wrinkles, eyes lacking any sort of light or shine in them.
Her thin lips are always set in a straight line.
Everything about her is dulled, lacking any sort of polish or care.
She tilts her head and motions with it for me to sit beside her.
“I’ve been expecting you, dear,” is all she says as I take a seat beside her.
She places a frail hand on my jittering knee, the act calming me down slightly. I take a breath and tilt my head back, resting it on the back of the bench and closing my eyes. “The lighthouse is falling apart, Iris.”
“Hmm,” she responds.
“I noticed it a while back, but I didn’t think anything of it.
I just thought it was old. But over the last few weeks, the changes have been drastic.
Something is going on.” I pull out my phone and show her all the photos I’ve taken that display the changes.
From a rusted red door and one cracked window to literal chunks of the lighthouse on the ground and long, deep cracks running up the length of the structure.
“It’s what I feared,” Iris finally says as she looks up from my phone and out at the ocean. “We’re getting closer to that day, aren’t we?”
“A month away,” I tell her shakily.
“I don’t know why this is happening,” she says to me.
“But something similar happened to me. The closer I got to my goodbye with Grant, it’s like the lighthouse knew, and it started to…
fall apart. Windows cracked, the door split, little things like that.
They would get repaired, but it kept happening.
I never understood what was going on or why, but after the last time I saw him, it all stopped. No more changes.”
“What do you think would have happened if you kept seeing him?” My eyes are wide as I think of all the possibilities. Could it cave in while Dylan is in there? Would that even affect him in 1993? What about while I’m there? Could I get stuck in his time?
“I don’t know. Nothing good, I suppose,” she muses.
“It’s not fair, Iris. I don’t need to worry about this along with everything else going on.” I fall forward and place my head in my hands, resting it on my knees.
She puts a hand on my back and rubs a circle, the pressure so faint that I almost don’t feel it. “I wish I knew how to help, dear. I don’t know what will happen when it finally falls apart. Please, be cautious. The last thing you want to do is end up stuck in the past.”
I take a few more deep breaths and keep my head where it is. Finally, I lift it back up and look at her. “I need to go to him now,” I say, and she nods. I stand up, and she goes back to fidgeting with her ring and staring out at the ocean. “I’ll see you soon, Iris.”
“Goodbye, dear.”