Big Belle and Doc MacBeech
No one really knew which one came first: the tree or the light, the light or the tree. Perched on a windswept rocky ledge was Point Pendulum lighthouse with her impressive Fresnel lens and Daboll foghorn. She was affectionately known as Big Belle. A weathered and knotty coastal pine also stood on the point with a long scabby tendrilled branch that had completely encircled Big Belle earning her the name of the Carousel Tree.
The old timers down at the Spit and Blade would tell a legend that the tree came first. Anytime a newcomer would chance upon them, they would start grinning wide enough to see their chew stained teeth and elbow each other like school boys. They would tell of a ship in dire straits off the coast and of the “kind” Native American locals that climbed on the branch of the Carousel Tree waving torches and saving the ship. Then the grins would turn to a sick hilarity and with tobacco colored spittle running out the corners of their mouths, they continued darkly about how those same Native Americans died of smallpox after the ship landed. Then they would disperse back to their shadowy corners laughing at what they believed was brilliant commentary.
In contrast, an old Scotsman would say the lighthouse came first. Doc MacBeech had a grizzled beard, and even though his beard had long ago lost its fire, his personality had not. He was a tree doctor and in a town that depended on logging as much as fishing and shipping, that position was well respected. He believed the strong sea wind constantly pushing and swirling around the lighthouse had over time wrapped that Carousel branch around Big Belle.
Perhaps it didn't really matter which one came first, because when the Keeper sent for Doc after a particularly frightful storm, the entire community of Port Pendulum collectively gasped. Doc climbed the point taking each step partly filled with dread at what was waiting for him and partly in agony as his old joints grated heavily. As he crested the rise, his relief at seeing Big Belle was quickly displaced with a heavy sigh. He could see from the distance the Carousel had splintered. The Keeper came to meet the doc and in low grave tones they discussed the severity of the tree's injury. Doc MacBeech agreed to wrap the limb with gauze and plaster like a splint on a broken bone, but in his heart he knew the tree would need an amputation to be saved.
The people of the port eagerly awaited his return. “How bad is it Doc?” One after another asked and asked as the people jockeyed for position to hear his response. “Aye, ‘tis a muckle break. Her life is cooming to a closs if we dony coot the branch soon.” “NO,” the people gasped and shouted. Impulsively, the mayor shouted, “It’s the infernal light!” “Nae, Nae it isny the light, but the storms, the wind that doon her in,” answered Doc. “Not true!” “Is true!” The townspeople began to split. The mayor incensed by the thought of losing the tree shouted, “Take down the lighthouse! Save our tree!” Others shouted back “Save the lighthouse! She saves lives! It’s not her fault!” In their consuming rage and discontent, they failed to notice the growing winds and the sea boiling on the horizon. The protests grew louder until shouts were heard “TO THE TREE!” “TO THE LIGHT!” No one heard Doc MacBeech “Nae! Nae! Stop! The branch canno’ be saved!”
Wielding axes and sledges and tools of all kinds, the people stormed to the ledge and attacked the unsuspecting Keeper and Big Belle while others scrambled to protect them. The cacophony was horrendous with neighbor against neighbor, fathers against mothers, brothers against sisters, peaceful friends turned to bloodcurdling enemies! The cracks and blows against the lighthouse were sickening, and the screams of the people deafening. As the lighthouse began to quaver and sway from the immense assault, the ignored and intensified storm sent up a gale that caught the toppling lighthouse and sent the timbering debris toward the edge of the rocky cliff collecting the entire Carousel Tree. Together they plummeted to the beach below.
Instantly the people froze. “What have we done?” they gasped in disbelief. In the distance barely to be heard over the rising storm, a ship was sending out a distress call. The people frantically looked at each other then hastily and sheepishly retreated from the peak and refuged in their homes. Helplessly, they could only image what was happening to the ragdoll ship being tossed on the Leviathan Sea.
When the storm had passed, the people emerged. On the beach lay a mass of twisted tree and lighthouse along with rows of bodies and cargo washed ashore. It was obvious the ship had not survived. Doc MacBeech, along with others, searched for survivors. As he approached a couple of bodies, he sunk knees to the sand and moaned “Nae, Nae, ‘is me own wee lass, me bairn.” The lifeless girl had entwined her hand in that of the boy that lay next to her. The mayor came upon the scene, “My Boy!” he wailed. The two had been wed and were coming to share their news when the ship had been sacrificed to the angry sea left without a light.
As mourners all along the beach wept with sobs of remorse and regret, a seagull went unnoticed to the last pinecone left on the remains of the Carousel Tree. He eagerly plucked the prize as if it were a priceless treat. In his haste to escape with his booty, he failed to see the diving eagle. Coming fast, the eagle seized the gull and quickly ended his dinner's life. From the beak of lifeless gull, the cone hurtled back toward the earth, but this time coming to rest in the hole where the lighthouse had stood.
