Young Storykeeper Volume III

284 | STORYKEEPERS VOLUME III AGE TWELVE | 285
LIGHTHOUSE ADVENTURE
Tristan and Justin are identical twins who live
with their parents in Mayo. They both have
brown eyes and black hair but in personality
they are nothing alike. Justin is what you
would call a doer. He is a bit rough, which
gets him in trouble at school. He likes to play
hurling. You could almost say his brother
Tristan is the exact opposite. He is a thinker;
always looking for the logical solution for his
current problems, which his teachers admire
about him. He likes to play badminton.
Our story begins when the family went
on a day trip to Clare Island Lighthouse.
They go there quite often because it is their
grandad’s lighthouse. Tristan was looking
forward to the trip because he wanted to get
some good pictures with the new camera he
got for his birthday. Justin however wanted
to be playing sports with his friends.
After the car journey, it took ten minutes
to get to the island by boat. They walked
towards the lighthouse and rang the huge
doorbell. A minute or two later their grandad
opened their door and greeted them in.
“Hi Grandad,” Tristan said.
Mum nudged Justin. Unenthusiastically,
Justin said, “Hi Grandad.”
Grandad said, “It’s good to see you
all again, who would like to hear about the
research for my new book?”
They all followed Grandad up the
long, spiral stairs as he spoke about Grace
O’Malley, the famous Irish pirate who
lived on this very island, and was said to
have hidden her treasure underneath the
lighthouse somewhere. Justin didn’t believe
a thing about treasure. He leaned against
the tapestry-covered wall and closed his
eyes. Then suddenly, he fell through the
wall.
Nobody noticed except Tristan, who
copied him and fell into the trap door too. As
he fell down a huge slide, he could hear his
brother screaming in fright.
When they both got to the bottom of
the slide they discussed what just happened.
“Remember what Grandad said about
the treasure?”
“Yeah it might be true, let’s find it.”
On the wall they saw two fire torches.
They each grabbed one. Justin took a box
of matches out of his pocket and lit the
torches. There was a long path in front of
them. Silently, they walked it together until
they came to a crossroads. Tristan took a
long ball of yarn out of his pocket and tied
an end of it to his foot and the other end
to Justin’s so that they would not lose each
other.
He said to his brother, “If one of us
finds the treasure, we will tug on the yarn to
alert the other.”
They went in separate directions. After
what felt like a long while later, Tristan’s path
came to an end. There was a big treasure
chest beside the wall. He excitedly pulled on
his string for a while, before the other end of
the string came to him.
But his brother wasn’t there. Someone
must have cut the yarn!
Samuel Quinn O’Flaherty
Co Dublin
LIGHTHOUSE STORY
The blinding light flashed on and on.
Morgan was in the kitchen preparing
himself a delicious dinner when he heard a
knock on the door. He went to answer it but
there was no one there. He stood outside
looking around in the darkness. It was
probably those pesky children again.
Morgan went back inside the lighthouse
and finished the dinner. It was a simple
chicken dinner, but tasty nonetheless. He
was about to finish when he heard a noise
from his bedroom. A creaking of sorts.
When he went up, there was no-one there.
Morgan prepared for bed and was about to
fall asleep when he heard more creaking at
the top of the building. He went up to inspect
and sure enough, nobody was there.
But there was something there.
Suddenly the blinding light disappeared.
There were investigations into
Morgan’s disappearance. It was also crucial
to get a new lighthouse keeper as ships
may crash without the light of the tall tower.
The searches and such went on for one
month. Nothing was discovered, nothing
was suggested, just - nothing. The people
went back to their normal lives. Morgan’s
disappearance became the occasional topic
of conversation.
Soon there was a new keeper, whose
name was Ben. Everyone liked him but me.
Although the light from the lighthouse was
always unusually dim. Ben tried a new power
source for it, but nothing changed. Ben was
the lighthouse keeper for three months
before he vanished as well. There were
more investigations, which led to the same
conclusion. Nobody knew anything.
Nobody wanted to be the next lighthouse
keeper. A doctor went in to search the
building for any sort of deadly bacteria but
found nothing. Eventually, the building was
closed for health and safety reasons. And a
series of lights were constructed along the
coastline to warn ships.
The lighthouse became an area of
mystery. And children told spooky stories of
it, falsely claiming to have seen the ghosts
of Morgan and Ben. Others claimed to have
seen something in the lighthouse. Many of
them decided to sneak into the lighthouse
and look around – seven in total. They were
very curious about this ‘ghost’ others had
spoken of.
Three never came back.
What do you think happened?
I know…
Jack Rowe
Co Dublin
THE LIGHTHOUSE
Quiet, still, almost unnoticed.
People stroll past hand in hand admiring the views.
Seagulls perch on her.
The lighthouse, the lighthouse.
Afternoon clouds camouflage her walls.
Whispers of a storm, tourists scurry off.
Birds to their nests, to look after their young.
The lighthouse, the lighthouse.
Her blinking eye flashes a call.
A heavy fog smothers the waters and land.
Fishermen not yet returned, gather in their nets and look
for her.
The lighthouse, the lighthouse.
She spreads out her arms and illuminates a pathway.
Anxious wives and mothers peer out, willing her on.
Angry waters toss, waves slap and disorientate.
Sea travellers fix on her.
The lighthouse, the lighthouse.
Bright, clear and strong her rotating song.
Calling to distressed seafarers seeking refuge.
Louder, louder and suddenly home.
The lighthouse, the lighthouse.
Safe, never changing, constant, secure.
Relieved fishermen tie up their vessels and gaze up at
her in awe.
Selfless, unconditional, the only thing they see.
The lighthouse, the lighthouse.
Oliver Crawford
Co Armagh