Setting: 1868 in Jupiter, Fla.

The wind whistled through the tree branches above Anna. She leaned against the wall of the lighthouse, shivering violently as she looked at the men scuffling on the ground. In all the fighting, they never heard her scream.

Mr. Burl was rowing toward the island when he saw the last part of the fight.

The fight Ral took to the yellow-haired man was awful. The poor soul ended up flat on his back in his boat. He never laid another punch on Ral whatsoever. For all of his trouble, the yellow-haired gentleman ended up with two black eyes, a chipped tooth, a bloody lip and his shirt torn clean off. As he lay in the bottom of the boat, the only noise he made was a low, soft moaning, the kind of sound you make when you’ve stuffed yourself too hard during the Thanksgiving meal.

“Shouldn’t a done that, Mister. It got me riled up,” Ral said, dusting off his hands. “You brought it on yourself, though.” Ral turned to face the bald man. “Mister, are you wantin’ to tangle up?”

The other man quickly stepped toward Pa with his knife drawn. “Boy or no boy, nobody’s gonna try to—”

He finished his sentence in a choke, because Pa’s lightning-fast hand had gripped him around the collar, tightening with a speed the man had never seen before.

“My family’s learned the art of fightin’ from the hills of Tennessee,” Pa said as the man fought for breath. “The boy here’s the strongest one, but as much as I hate to brag, I still rule the roost on quickness. As small as I am, Mister, I ain’t never lost a fight, so I’d advise you to rethink your position.”

The man nodded slowly as Pa took the knife from the man’s hand and threw it in the water. “Truth be told, my moonshining days is over. I’ve had a change.” He turned the man toward the boat. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you about it, but not right now. Yer always welcome here, but your attitude ain’t. Fix it, an’ we’ll have us a coffee on the front porch.” His eyes narrowed. “But if you come here with any motive outside of a friendly visit, just remember, I’ve got a mean streak that’s put me in jail more’n once. Think on that. Now git on out of here.”

He glanced at the darkening sky. “We’ve had quite a dry spell, so the coming rain ought to be a gusher. Try to beat the storm. Git.”

Indeed, clouds had gathered overhead. The wind increased as the boat pulled away with the big man still groaning and the bald man rowing as hard as he dared. The groaning man shot a look at Ral like he’d be back to get his revenge.

Ral shrugged. “Sorry, Pa, but that yellow-haired man got the drop on me.”

More Surprises
Old Bannister saw the group and waved. “Never mind that, Boy, we got company. Mr. Burl is gracing us with his presence, so see what he needs. I got me a bit of a cut when I grabbed that knife away from the troublemaker, so I need to go patch up and wash off the blood before I head to the market to sell them oranges. Load my boat with those boxes an’ let’s beat the rain, eh?”

He turned and walked away quickly, heading to the bucket around the back of the lighthouse.

Ral rolled up his sleeves, looking at Mr. Burl and grinning. “He’s made a change since you showed him the Way, Preacher.”

“Seems so, Laddie,” Mr. Burl agreed.

“Yep,” Ral said. “No more liquor on the island. Pa came to Jesus in a way I have never seen. No fancy words, just a serious commitment. Why, just yesterday I saw him at the top railing of the lighthouse with his feet dangling over the side, leaning his forehead against the railing and reading the Bible. Now if that ain’t . . . ”

Ral stopped and looked at Mr. Burl. “Did you hear a sob? A girl’s sob?”

Mr. Burl nodded and pointed through the small trees. There was Anna, leaning against the lighthouse wall with her hand over her mouth.

“What are you doing here?” he sneered. “Sneaking around on people isn’t highly thought of in these parts.”

Anna let out a gasp from between her fingers. “In that wooden box there . . . that’s a dead person.”

“A what?”

“In that big crate. Th-that face . . . his eyes are blank . . . look! Someone’s been killed!”

Ral stooped and pulled apart the branches to reveal an upturned face of a crumpled body tucked inside a crate. Anna cried out loud. “What is it you do on this island?” She pushed past him and ran for Mr. Burl’s boat.

“Wait!” Ral stood straight and turned toward her. Anna sprinted for the shore. She knew she couldn’t outrun Ral, but she dodged toward the bushes along the shore, hoping to get lost in the shrubbery.

It was no use. Ral quickly overtook her and grabbed her arm.

“Let me go!” She screamed and flailed at him with her free hand.

Ral grabbed her other hand and held it firmly. “No! Listen! I don’t know where it came from!” He stammered. “I . . . I’m serious. It’s—”

Anna held still but spoke sharply. The wind howled. “How could a body lay in the trees right next to the lighthouse, and you not know about it? And what about that casket inside the lighthouse, under the steps?”

Ral shrugged. “What casket?“

“Oh, don’t play the fool with me! I heard how your father threatened those men. Do you have the same murderous streak in you?”

Stranger Than Fiction
“Wait. Be still,“ Ral said, pointing. “Look.”

Hands thrust through the bushes and parted the branches. A waxy-looking grayish face poked out from among the leaves.

“He’s alive!” Anna screamed.

“Well, that’s a sight better comfort than if he was dead,” Ral said. “Now hush.”

The man didn’t stir any further, but rolled his eyes to the sky. “Yes, child, I am alive, and yet I can see the dead.”

“Who are you?” Anna demanded.

He ignored her. “I have traveled afar and have learned many things. “

“How did you get here, Sir?” Mr. Burl asked. “I haven’t seen you before.”

The man turned his eyes upon me. “Your questions are of no concern to me.” He pointed to the lighthouse. “This tower gathers the spiritual forces of the nether world, and it’s my destination. By its side, I can predict the future.”

“Aw, you couldn’t do that,” Ral said, but he didn’t sound too sure of himself.

“Indeed I could,” said the man. “I have. I shall.”

“How can we know that you’re telling the truth?” Anna asked.

“Because,” the man said, “I am the Truth.”

“You can’t be,” Ral said.

“Why can’t I be?” the man said as he looked up again. “What places anything above me? I know the future.” He picked an orange from the ground, biting it right through the skin.

“Well,” Ral said uneasily, “you just can’t become the whole Truth of the world just because you say so.”

“Oh?” the man said. “And you throw eggs down on people because you think it’s humorous? You assume the authority on what is acceptable and what is not?”

Ral blushed, but Anna spoke up. “What’s your purpose here?”

The man nodded. “And I’ve seen you, Girl, moving into this town with your mother and taking up residence where you have no right.”

Anna sputtered. “My mother bought that old house! With our last dollars! Who is this man, Mr. Burl?”

“I’ve heard of him. They call him the Prophet. Be careful.”

“Well, he has no right to tell me whether I’m worthy enough to live in this town,” Anna retorted.

“I have the authority. I have the power,” the man said.

“Yeah?” Ral challenged. “Give me proof.”

Unsettling News
The man raised his finger to the now-black sky as juice dribbled down his chin. “I predicted the hurricanes of the last two seasons within the correct hour, and the fire season outbreak within one day, saving many people’s existence. I searched long and far for the Fates to show me the gift of creation itself, how the universe opens and closes life’s door.” He lowered his finger and pointed at Anna. “And I came to this tower to tell you the door will be closed for you.”

Anna’s knees trembled as he spoke. The pale man raised his hands as the lightning flashed. “If you insist on staying in this town even one more night, then put your house in order, young woman. By morning the town folk will be sobbing as they see you lifeless on the main street of the lighthouse. I brought the casket. It awaits you inside the walls of this tower.”

Read Part 3.