The Eye

The night was cool, the lake calm, and the fog had appeared suddenly, as if trying to impede Jed's mission. Even the lighthouse beam that swept the water couldn't penetrate the mist; it was dense, clammy, and smelled of ozone and seaweed. He was thankful for that light; it was a homing beacon back to land, an eye that was constantly watching, checking their progress.

Jed's arms strained as he worked the oars, the boat creaking and rocking. Beside him was his Nikon 8mm camera, and his teenage son lazily looking out
at the water. The eye passed by, lighting them up, and then they were in darkness once more.

"C'mon, show yerself," Jed muttered.

"This is a waste of time, Dad," Tuc said.

Jed didn't answer.

"We've been out here forever. Can't we go back? Please?"

Jed smiled. "Momma always used to tell me 'Jed, good things come to those who wait.' Sooner or later, those ghosties will appear, and I'll be ready." He patted his camera, grinning.

Other than the couple of friends he had, Jed was overlooked. Nothing he did was special or worthy enough to make people sit up and take notice. He hoped that by snapping pictures of the ghosties that had recently been spotted around Lakeshore Point, he would finally get the respect and admiration that he felt was his God-given right.

The eye checked on their progress, then was gone.

Tuc crossed his arms. "Well, I don't know why I had to come, that's all."

"I needed a witness."

"How d'ya mean??"

"I need someone-that's you, Tuc-to tell people I didn't just make up the pictures."

"What about your friends?"

"What about them, boy?"

"Couldn't they have come?"

Jed snorted. "Yeah. Some friends. Ever since I started this mission, they're acting like everyone else. They won't return my phone calls, won't answer when I knock. They probably see me as a damned fool, running some damned fool's errand."

Jed looked down, fists clenched. "Well, maybe I am, boy, maybe I am. I always have been just a step behind the herd, you know? In school, in work, in life, I can admit it. Sure. Why not? But let me tell you something, Tuc, once I take these pictures, when I can do what nobody else has the guts to do, that'll all change."

Tuc yawned. "Maybe, Dad. But I don't really believe in ghosts."

The beam passed by again, and that's when Jed saw it--a shape materializing out of the mist. A man and a boy ghostie were standing up in their motorboat, pointing in their direction. The story was that a man and his son had drowned when their boat capsized, but the boy he was looking at was maybe nine or ten. The boy who had died had been a teenager.

The man revved his engine and sped away. And the eye fell through Jed and Tuc, casting no shadows upon the water.