Welcome to the Lighthouse, Keepers
Jul 10, 2018 16:34:35 GMT -6
Post by Snick on Jul 10, 2018 16:34:35 GMT -6
Siobhan looked around her warily, both giddy and afraid. So this was the lighthouse. Where was she though? She realized she was in the lamp tower itself, looking out over the ocean. She was alone. She had half expected to see Makepeace here, as he was the only other one she knew of so far who had been taken. She looked at the great lamp and its highly polished reflecting mirrors and the beautiful view for awhile, waiting for others to show up. She listened to the pounding surf and the cry of the gulls. When no one else came, she descended the long winding stairs down the tower to the base of it and to the little house below.
She rapped on the door. "Hello?" she asked timidly. "Makepeace, anyone?" she called, slightly louder. No answer.
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Arwen had finally landed from where the light had taken her. She laughed as she landed on her rear sitting in the sand of the beach outside the lighthouse. She set there for a moment looking around trying to take everything in that happen so far this year. No previous year started with so many unexpected events. Arwen stood up and wiped all of the sand from her uniform before turning and staring up at the lighthouse. She looked forwards to seeing who else besides Makepeace was picked.
She walked over to the water and wondered if she will see other animals besides the seagulls flying above.
“Anyone else here?” She asked quietly.
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"-bitch! OW!" Pratt exclaimed as his knees landed upon a shore. A shore made up of lots and lots of little pebbles and jagged seashell fragments. Wincing, he stood. He looked to the lighthouse in the distance with a scowl. "Fricking stupid rrrrrrAH!" the pin, as he tried to pry it off, pricked his finger. He sucked on the little red spot for a moment as he looked around.
"You've made a mistake, dumb-ass beacon!" He shouted with his hands cupped around his mouth. "SEND ME BACK!"
With a sigh of resignation, he started off in the direction of the lighthouse. Pratt took his sweet time walking across the tiny rocky island. Maybe it would kick him out when it realized he was all wrong for the position.
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"You can't keep me locked up down here forever." Makepeace called out. He had appeared down in the very guts of the lighthouse, down in the caverns underneath where waves crashing against the shoals and rocks moved the mechanism that kept the lighthouse turret in perpetual motion. Chains and pistons, sprockets and gears; they were all in motion around him, and he hardly knew if a single step he took might see him dragged into those gears like Charlie Chaplin in Modern Times.
"Is there a reason I'm down here?" He asked, even though he knew that the only other living things around were rats and mice scurrying around the creaky floorboards. But, as if in answer to him, a flash of light shone down through those floorboards and a book appeared in front of him. Picking it up, he examined it in the dim light cast by his wand. "The Canterbury Tales?"
The light shone down through the floorboards again, falling upon the book in his hands, which leapt open, and then the light contracted, highlighting a passage in the book. And with a knight thus will I first begin, A knight there was, and he a worthy man. Once he'd read it, the light faded away.
"Ok...?" Makepeace asked, not understanding the message, only that the Lighthouse was trying to communicate with him in some way.
The light shone down again, and pages turned. First the light fell upon the word barmaid and then jester and finally goodwife.
Makepeace's brow furrowed as he saw these things. "Knight, jester, barmaid, goodwife. Four people; two men, two women. Your keepers?" Once again, the lighthouse's beams streamed down through the floorboards above him, highlighting the word yes.
"Alright, so what are you trying to tell me, then?" He asked, looking up through the worn floorboards above him.
Another book fell to the ground. As he picked it up, a bit of a chill went through Makepeace. It was Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes. Almost as an afterthought, the light fell upon the title of the book.
"Why are you telling me this, and not any of the others?" He waited, looking up expectantly, but no answer was forthcoming this time. "What am I supposed to do about it?" He asked. A third object fell down, and this time Makepeace managed to snatch it out of the air before it had a chance to fall to the ground. It was a CD from some band called Triumph, and as he turned it over in his hand, the light fell upon one of the songs listed on the back. Take a stand.
"Very cryptic. Can you tell me what's coming? Without dropping a bunch of books on me?" He asked. Nothing materialized out of thin air this time, and no lights streamed down, but there was a soft click above him, and a cord dangled down from the ceiling, hanging in front of him. He reached out and pulled it downward, and a trapdoor with an unfolding staircase opened up from the ceiling. He glanced up the staircase, and then cautiously made his way up, feeling distinctly ill-at-ease.
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Siobhan pushed the door open. It was a common room with a table and chairs, a fireplace, a refrigerator, a small stove, and a sofa. Other rooms, sleeping areas, she supposed, led off it. She went and sat at the table, hearing someone ascending from a staircase below. "Makepeace? Is that you? Is anyone else here?" she called.
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Arwen moved backwards trying to see all of the lighthouse again wondering what it was going to be like inside. She thought of joining a legacy at one point but knew there was not any that fit in with her personality. The only one group that even felt she could belong to was Iota Sigma Alpha; however it would have never worked though since the group was worried about grades. Grades were not what really mattered since it was making sure that you retained all the information that could have been learned from books and classes. So she always decided that it would be best to be what was considered normal and not part of any legacy. The lighthouse though had chosen her so for at least a year unless chosen again she was part of a group few ever joined.
She slowly moved to head towards one of the side doors of the building that looked at if it might lead towards the actual living areas. Arwen would find them before heading up to where the light was since it was her job to take care of this place with the others. Arwen open the door sticking her head in before actually walking on. "Anyone there can you hear me?" Last thing she wanted was for someone to scare her when not ready for it.
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Like the hare in the race with the tortoise, Pratt took several breaks on his short voyage. Once to skip a few rocks (or, you know, just toss them out into the sea because rocks didn't skip well on waves), once to take a piss, and a few times just to stand there and pretend to marvel at the horizon. The lighthouse, however, refused to give in. She was as patient as ever.
"Oh, come ON!" he shouted hopelessly at the tower looming ever closer. Finally, he just sat down and sighed. Hard, cold brown eyes fixed upon the lighthouse. A staring contest and sit-in crossed into one.I'm not moving until you move me he thought as he shifted to sit indian-style.
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"Yeah, it's me." Makepeace answered, smiling a little at Siobhan, and hoping that her pain-in-the ass, sulky brother hadn't been chosen, as well. Last thing he needed was to wake up every morning to the same old tired routine of 'life sucks and then you sit around and moan about it for a month afterward.' "Siobhan..." There was a pause as Arwen opened the door. "Arwen." He said, waving. "Seems that the Lighthouse decided to have me wait around the basement for an hour or so before offering me a selection of light reading and listening material." He said, holding up the books and CD that had fallen into the basement with him. Chief among them the very copy of The Canterbury Tales that Arwen had been reading. "By my count, that's three of four of us." He concluded.
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In the time since he'd become the advisor to the Lighthouse, Victor Castilla had come to learn many things about the lighthouse itself. Like the fact that it had a sense of humor that few seemed to appreciate, much less acknowledge as being just that. When he walked in to see Makepeace and the two girls together, he cleared his throat and said, "If we can round up the final member, I think we'll be able to begin."
With an almost sullen toot of the foghorn, the Lighthouse complied, a beam of light sweeping out to pick up Pratt and placing him amidst the other three students. "For those of you who don't take my elective, I am Victor Castilla, the Muggle Studies professor for this school, and the advisor to the students that the lighthouse chooses as its watchers."
He looked down at Pratt and O'Brien and his brow furrowed a little. "As you know, the Lighthouse transports people to and from the school every year. It redirects muggles away from our island, and often saves them from danger. Finally, in case the school is in danger, it will sound a warning, as it did when the Throckwattle incident occurred many years ago. Every year, it chooses four students to be its keepers. Nobody seems to know why it chooses who it chooses, but being chosen is a magically-binding contract."
"You are required to keep the lighthouse in good repair, which usually means light cleaning, some painting and light carpentry, and other, relatively mild duties. Also, sometimes, the lighthouse will pick you up at random and send you places that you might not understand." A soft chuckle escaped him as he said this. "It has sent our students as far away as the Quidditch World Cup in Ireland, or to places as mundane as a plumbing supply store, and often, the keepers have been sent to other students who were in need. So, you're a little like the guardian angels of this school for the year that you are chosen. Now, are there any questions?"
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Siobhan looked from the advisor to each of the other keepers. She was by far the youngest there, the youngest she had remembered in her time there. But Pratt was only a year older than her. Pratt. She looked over at him and smiled. "I didn't know the lighthouse would take students as young as me. I thought it just took seniors and juniors. I'm a freshmen." She shrugged. 'But I'm glad it's you, Arwen and you, Makepeace, with us. It put me right at the top of the tower, by the light. It was amazing up there. You should see it. Where did it put you, Arwen, and you, Pratt?"
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Arwen walked slowly about the room as she listened to Makepeace explain what happened with him. She noticed one of the books he had was the one she had been reading earlier. “Well I hope those books you have been given kept you busy so you weren't bored. I was dropped off down on the sand at the beach.”
She looked at the adviser as the Lighthouse brought the missing fourth member of this year's Lightkeepers. Arwen was shocked it was Pratt but not surprised he made sure they all knew he didn't want to be here. She know now people who are already in a Legacy can still be chosen. This was something she didn't realize and now she was definitely going to do research about whether it had been done before.
After listening to everything that a keeper did, she realized that this really was an honor that needed to be taken serious. This would have been a great opportunity for the group of them to make the school and maybe even world a better place. She was worried though because he already said that the lighthouse had been known to take them to random places. "Sir I have a question. When you mention the Lighthouse takes people to random places, do they have an idea why or where they are?"
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Pratt fell flat on his face after popping into existence. He rose to his feet, grumbling and dusting himself off. All he wanted to do was go back and shake a can of soda to give to Esther or something. She should know better than to invite a Stooge into her Legacy house. Especially one with such bitter feelings toward BTP. Because of the lighthouse, he'd lost his opportunity to turn the princess into the princess of pop. He started to complain, but saw he was in the company of more than Makepeace (which he knew had to be here after seeing him being chosen) and Mr. Castilla (who was now talking about being sent places by the lighthouse) and his jaw dropped in stunned silence for a very brief moment.
"Magically-binding contract?" he grimaced as he pulled a chair out for himself, looking to the teacher. "How? I haven't agreed to any of this. I'm a Stooge, not a Keeper. My loyalty lies with Upsilon Iota and Mr. Kim, not this weird lighthouse and you. Besides, I'm the last person that should've ever been chosen."
He puffed out his chest defiantly and crossed his arms. Though he hadn't raised his voice or spat in the man's face, Pratt felt like he was standing up to his father yet again. Visibly, he braced himself, every muscle tensed. Suddenly, he wilted and slipped into his chair.
"Well, at least if I'm stuck here, it's with people I like," Pratt grinned wryly, still unhappy that he was chosen, but not quite as upset. "I landed on rocks. Sharp, pointy rocks and seashells. Were you as surprised to be chosen, Arwen? We're only sophomores, after all."
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"The lighthouse usually prefers older students, that much is true, but it isn't unheard-of for it to choose students as young as thirteen." Victor said with a nod towards Siobhan. "It usually chooses students who are, in some way, remarkable; even if they don't see that quality in themselves."
"One thing you must understand about the lighthouse is that it is a living, thinking and feeling entity in its own right. An intelligent construct, as Mr. Woodrick would term it. But, it lacks the ability to express itself in words." He said, turning to look at Arwen. "If it sends you somewhere, it is usually for a reason that is readily apparent, or, it will give you a few hints. If, for instance, it sends you to the plumbing supply store, it's probably because it needs some of its pipes replaced or repaired. It will find a way to show you the hardware it needs you to purchase for it, usually by shining a light upon the bins where that hardware may be found. It will also place an appropriate amount of money in your pockets for you to purchase it."
"In the case of the student that was sent to the Quidditch World Cup the year before, which I can tell you was a very unusual circumstance because it happened over summer break..." He frowned a little, pausing as he tried to grasp the right words to say. "Some of our students were given tickets to the event as part of an international cooperation initiative sponsored by the British Ministry. Well, naturally, they were caught up in the riots that followed, and the student that was sent there was sent in to rescue them." So, it wasn't all root beer and skittles to be chosen as a keeper.
He then turned to Pratt, trying to be as reasonable as possible with the boy, because he knew the kid was prone to be a pain. Teachers talked about this sort of thing in the staff room, after all. "It's a condition of attending the school -- Your parents accepted the possibility that you might be called to serve when they signed you up. Think of it like... Accepting the possibility of being called for Jury Duty when you get a driver's license."
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Makepeace was thoughtful, and quietly so. He didn't know if he should tell just Castilla about the warnings the Lighthouse had given him, or tell all of them and get it out into the open. "It, uhhh... It pointed out some passages in these books to me, sir." He said, rising and handing the books over to Castilla. He held up the Bradbury book and ran a finger along the title so that the professor could get the gist of what he was saying, and was rewarded by a momentary look of alarm in the man's eyes. Then he hid it again. "You should probably return those to the library if that's where it got them from. I don't know about the CD case; there wasn't a CD in it. Maybe it came from the radio station or something." He wasn't so much worried about Pratt finding out about the warning, or even Arwen, but what about Siobhan?
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She glanced at the empty CD case and the books he showed Mr. Castilla. She had no idea what it meant. The book had a creepy title though. "Isn't that a line from MacBeth?" She knew a little Shakespeare.
But she had other things on her mind. "Mr Castilla, our friends and family, they will ask us about the lighthouse. I know I always wanted to know what it was like. It's a big mystery. What can we tell them?" Siobhan asked. "We'll still eat with our friends and go to classes and spend most of our time with them. I don't want to leave them out." Of course the person she most wanted to make friends with was sitting at the table with her. She glanced at Pratt and smiled, glad he was here and hoping they didn't fight, or this year in the lighthouse would quickly go to hell in a handbasket.
She rapped on the door. "Hello?" she asked timidly. "Makepeace, anyone?" she called, slightly louder. No answer.
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Arwen had finally landed from where the light had taken her. She laughed as she landed on her rear sitting in the sand of the beach outside the lighthouse. She set there for a moment looking around trying to take everything in that happen so far this year. No previous year started with so many unexpected events. Arwen stood up and wiped all of the sand from her uniform before turning and staring up at the lighthouse. She looked forwards to seeing who else besides Makepeace was picked.
She walked over to the water and wondered if she will see other animals besides the seagulls flying above.
“Anyone else here?” She asked quietly.
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"-bitch! OW!" Pratt exclaimed as his knees landed upon a shore. A shore made up of lots and lots of little pebbles and jagged seashell fragments. Wincing, he stood. He looked to the lighthouse in the distance with a scowl. "Fricking stupid rrrrrrAH!" the pin, as he tried to pry it off, pricked his finger. He sucked on the little red spot for a moment as he looked around.
"You've made a mistake, dumb-ass beacon!" He shouted with his hands cupped around his mouth. "SEND ME BACK!"
With a sigh of resignation, he started off in the direction of the lighthouse. Pratt took his sweet time walking across the tiny rocky island. Maybe it would kick him out when it realized he was all wrong for the position.
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"You can't keep me locked up down here forever." Makepeace called out. He had appeared down in the very guts of the lighthouse, down in the caverns underneath where waves crashing against the shoals and rocks moved the mechanism that kept the lighthouse turret in perpetual motion. Chains and pistons, sprockets and gears; they were all in motion around him, and he hardly knew if a single step he took might see him dragged into those gears like Charlie Chaplin in Modern Times.
"Is there a reason I'm down here?" He asked, even though he knew that the only other living things around were rats and mice scurrying around the creaky floorboards. But, as if in answer to him, a flash of light shone down through those floorboards and a book appeared in front of him. Picking it up, he examined it in the dim light cast by his wand. "The Canterbury Tales?"
The light shone down through the floorboards again, falling upon the book in his hands, which leapt open, and then the light contracted, highlighting a passage in the book. And with a knight thus will I first begin, A knight there was, and he a worthy man. Once he'd read it, the light faded away.
"Ok...?" Makepeace asked, not understanding the message, only that the Lighthouse was trying to communicate with him in some way.
The light shone down again, and pages turned. First the light fell upon the word barmaid and then jester and finally goodwife.
Makepeace's brow furrowed as he saw these things. "Knight, jester, barmaid, goodwife. Four people; two men, two women. Your keepers?" Once again, the lighthouse's beams streamed down through the floorboards above him, highlighting the word yes.
"Alright, so what are you trying to tell me, then?" He asked, looking up through the worn floorboards above him.
Another book fell to the ground. As he picked it up, a bit of a chill went through Makepeace. It was Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes. Almost as an afterthought, the light fell upon the title of the book.
"Why are you telling me this, and not any of the others?" He waited, looking up expectantly, but no answer was forthcoming this time. "What am I supposed to do about it?" He asked. A third object fell down, and this time Makepeace managed to snatch it out of the air before it had a chance to fall to the ground. It was a CD from some band called Triumph, and as he turned it over in his hand, the light fell upon one of the songs listed on the back. Take a stand.
"Very cryptic. Can you tell me what's coming? Without dropping a bunch of books on me?" He asked. Nothing materialized out of thin air this time, and no lights streamed down, but there was a soft click above him, and a cord dangled down from the ceiling, hanging in front of him. He reached out and pulled it downward, and a trapdoor with an unfolding staircase opened up from the ceiling. He glanced up the staircase, and then cautiously made his way up, feeling distinctly ill-at-ease.
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Siobhan pushed the door open. It was a common room with a table and chairs, a fireplace, a refrigerator, a small stove, and a sofa. Other rooms, sleeping areas, she supposed, led off it. She went and sat at the table, hearing someone ascending from a staircase below. "Makepeace? Is that you? Is anyone else here?" she called.
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Arwen moved backwards trying to see all of the lighthouse again wondering what it was going to be like inside. She thought of joining a legacy at one point but knew there was not any that fit in with her personality. The only one group that even felt she could belong to was Iota Sigma Alpha; however it would have never worked though since the group was worried about grades. Grades were not what really mattered since it was making sure that you retained all the information that could have been learned from books and classes. So she always decided that it would be best to be what was considered normal and not part of any legacy. The lighthouse though had chosen her so for at least a year unless chosen again she was part of a group few ever joined.
She slowly moved to head towards one of the side doors of the building that looked at if it might lead towards the actual living areas. Arwen would find them before heading up to where the light was since it was her job to take care of this place with the others. Arwen open the door sticking her head in before actually walking on. "Anyone there can you hear me?" Last thing she wanted was for someone to scare her when not ready for it.
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Like the hare in the race with the tortoise, Pratt took several breaks on his short voyage. Once to skip a few rocks (or, you know, just toss them out into the sea because rocks didn't skip well on waves), once to take a piss, and a few times just to stand there and pretend to marvel at the horizon. The lighthouse, however, refused to give in. She was as patient as ever.
"Oh, come ON!" he shouted hopelessly at the tower looming ever closer. Finally, he just sat down and sighed. Hard, cold brown eyes fixed upon the lighthouse. A staring contest and sit-in crossed into one.I'm not moving until you move me he thought as he shifted to sit indian-style.
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"Yeah, it's me." Makepeace answered, smiling a little at Siobhan, and hoping that her pain-in-the ass, sulky brother hadn't been chosen, as well. Last thing he needed was to wake up every morning to the same old tired routine of 'life sucks and then you sit around and moan about it for a month afterward.' "Siobhan..." There was a pause as Arwen opened the door. "Arwen." He said, waving. "Seems that the Lighthouse decided to have me wait around the basement for an hour or so before offering me a selection of light reading and listening material." He said, holding up the books and CD that had fallen into the basement with him. Chief among them the very copy of The Canterbury Tales that Arwen had been reading. "By my count, that's three of four of us." He concluded.
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In the time since he'd become the advisor to the Lighthouse, Victor Castilla had come to learn many things about the lighthouse itself. Like the fact that it had a sense of humor that few seemed to appreciate, much less acknowledge as being just that. When he walked in to see Makepeace and the two girls together, he cleared his throat and said, "If we can round up the final member, I think we'll be able to begin."
With an almost sullen toot of the foghorn, the Lighthouse complied, a beam of light sweeping out to pick up Pratt and placing him amidst the other three students. "For those of you who don't take my elective, I am Victor Castilla, the Muggle Studies professor for this school, and the advisor to the students that the lighthouse chooses as its watchers."
He looked down at Pratt and O'Brien and his brow furrowed a little. "As you know, the Lighthouse transports people to and from the school every year. It redirects muggles away from our island, and often saves them from danger. Finally, in case the school is in danger, it will sound a warning, as it did when the Throckwattle incident occurred many years ago. Every year, it chooses four students to be its keepers. Nobody seems to know why it chooses who it chooses, but being chosen is a magically-binding contract."
"You are required to keep the lighthouse in good repair, which usually means light cleaning, some painting and light carpentry, and other, relatively mild duties. Also, sometimes, the lighthouse will pick you up at random and send you places that you might not understand." A soft chuckle escaped him as he said this. "It has sent our students as far away as the Quidditch World Cup in Ireland, or to places as mundane as a plumbing supply store, and often, the keepers have been sent to other students who were in need. So, you're a little like the guardian angels of this school for the year that you are chosen. Now, are there any questions?"
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Siobhan looked from the advisor to each of the other keepers. She was by far the youngest there, the youngest she had remembered in her time there. But Pratt was only a year older than her. Pratt. She looked over at him and smiled. "I didn't know the lighthouse would take students as young as me. I thought it just took seniors and juniors. I'm a freshmen." She shrugged. 'But I'm glad it's you, Arwen and you, Makepeace, with us. It put me right at the top of the tower, by the light. It was amazing up there. You should see it. Where did it put you, Arwen, and you, Pratt?"
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Arwen walked slowly about the room as she listened to Makepeace explain what happened with him. She noticed one of the books he had was the one she had been reading earlier. “Well I hope those books you have been given kept you busy so you weren't bored. I was dropped off down on the sand at the beach.”
She looked at the adviser as the Lighthouse brought the missing fourth member of this year's Lightkeepers. Arwen was shocked it was Pratt but not surprised he made sure they all knew he didn't want to be here. She know now people who are already in a Legacy can still be chosen. This was something she didn't realize and now she was definitely going to do research about whether it had been done before.
After listening to everything that a keeper did, she realized that this really was an honor that needed to be taken serious. This would have been a great opportunity for the group of them to make the school and maybe even world a better place. She was worried though because he already said that the lighthouse had been known to take them to random places. "Sir I have a question. When you mention the Lighthouse takes people to random places, do they have an idea why or where they are?"
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Pratt fell flat on his face after popping into existence. He rose to his feet, grumbling and dusting himself off. All he wanted to do was go back and shake a can of soda to give to Esther or something. She should know better than to invite a Stooge into her Legacy house. Especially one with such bitter feelings toward BTP. Because of the lighthouse, he'd lost his opportunity to turn the princess into the princess of pop. He started to complain, but saw he was in the company of more than Makepeace (which he knew had to be here after seeing him being chosen) and Mr. Castilla (who was now talking about being sent places by the lighthouse) and his jaw dropped in stunned silence for a very brief moment.
"Magically-binding contract?" he grimaced as he pulled a chair out for himself, looking to the teacher. "How? I haven't agreed to any of this. I'm a Stooge, not a Keeper. My loyalty lies with Upsilon Iota and Mr. Kim, not this weird lighthouse and you. Besides, I'm the last person that should've ever been chosen."
He puffed out his chest defiantly and crossed his arms. Though he hadn't raised his voice or spat in the man's face, Pratt felt like he was standing up to his father yet again. Visibly, he braced himself, every muscle tensed. Suddenly, he wilted and slipped into his chair.
"Well, at least if I'm stuck here, it's with people I like," Pratt grinned wryly, still unhappy that he was chosen, but not quite as upset. "I landed on rocks. Sharp, pointy rocks and seashells. Were you as surprised to be chosen, Arwen? We're only sophomores, after all."
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"The lighthouse usually prefers older students, that much is true, but it isn't unheard-of for it to choose students as young as thirteen." Victor said with a nod towards Siobhan. "It usually chooses students who are, in some way, remarkable; even if they don't see that quality in themselves."
"One thing you must understand about the lighthouse is that it is a living, thinking and feeling entity in its own right. An intelligent construct, as Mr. Woodrick would term it. But, it lacks the ability to express itself in words." He said, turning to look at Arwen. "If it sends you somewhere, it is usually for a reason that is readily apparent, or, it will give you a few hints. If, for instance, it sends you to the plumbing supply store, it's probably because it needs some of its pipes replaced or repaired. It will find a way to show you the hardware it needs you to purchase for it, usually by shining a light upon the bins where that hardware may be found. It will also place an appropriate amount of money in your pockets for you to purchase it."
"In the case of the student that was sent to the Quidditch World Cup the year before, which I can tell you was a very unusual circumstance because it happened over summer break..." He frowned a little, pausing as he tried to grasp the right words to say. "Some of our students were given tickets to the event as part of an international cooperation initiative sponsored by the British Ministry. Well, naturally, they were caught up in the riots that followed, and the student that was sent there was sent in to rescue them." So, it wasn't all root beer and skittles to be chosen as a keeper.
He then turned to Pratt, trying to be as reasonable as possible with the boy, because he knew the kid was prone to be a pain. Teachers talked about this sort of thing in the staff room, after all. "It's a condition of attending the school -- Your parents accepted the possibility that you might be called to serve when they signed you up. Think of it like... Accepting the possibility of being called for Jury Duty when you get a driver's license."
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Makepeace was thoughtful, and quietly so. He didn't know if he should tell just Castilla about the warnings the Lighthouse had given him, or tell all of them and get it out into the open. "It, uhhh... It pointed out some passages in these books to me, sir." He said, rising and handing the books over to Castilla. He held up the Bradbury book and ran a finger along the title so that the professor could get the gist of what he was saying, and was rewarded by a momentary look of alarm in the man's eyes. Then he hid it again. "You should probably return those to the library if that's where it got them from. I don't know about the CD case; there wasn't a CD in it. Maybe it came from the radio station or something." He wasn't so much worried about Pratt finding out about the warning, or even Arwen, but what about Siobhan?
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She glanced at the empty CD case and the books he showed Mr. Castilla. She had no idea what it meant. The book had a creepy title though. "Isn't that a line from MacBeth?" She knew a little Shakespeare.
But she had other things on her mind. "Mr Castilla, our friends and family, they will ask us about the lighthouse. I know I always wanted to know what it was like. It's a big mystery. What can we tell them?" Siobhan asked. "We'll still eat with our friends and go to classes and spend most of our time with them. I don't want to leave them out." Of course the person she most wanted to make friends with was sitting at the table with her. She glanced at Pratt and smiled, glad he was here and hoping they didn't fight, or this year in the lighthouse would quickly go to hell in a handbasket.
