"Two adults? That's twenty-four." Entering the fee and swiveling the tablet around, the man swiped his credit card and signed the screen. Flipping it back, he saw that the man had added a twenty per cent tip. Sweet! Toby thought to himself.
Cripes it was hot! Midsummer of his eighteenth year on this Earth, he'd taken the job at the Tybee Lighthouse after burning out as a stock clerk at a nearby convenience store. The upside: he was outside for the summer. Downside: enduring long days dispensing tickets out of the un-air conditioned hut next to the lighthouse parking lot.
Pulling two green wristbands off the roll, he motioned for the woman to come forward first. Toby deftly pulled the pressure sensitive tab and neatly wound it around her wrist. Next, the man. After attaching the wristband, he gestured to the rack of brochures on the counter.
"Help yourself."
Officially, it was called the Tybee Island Light Station and Museum, Georgia's oldest and tallest lighthouse. But, to Toby and all the other locals, it was just Tybee Lighthouse. Three light keepers cottages comprised the museum part of the site. Display panels describing the lighthouse lined a path near the door. The lighthouse was the real attraction, though. Almost everyone made a beeline to the light itself, challenging themselves, old and young, to troop up the 178 steps to the top.
The job was mostly a no-brainer. Once in awhile, he'd have to tell someone they couldn't bring a backpack or a tripod onto the site. A couple of weeks ago some jerk had insisted on bringing a holstered firearm in with him.
"I gotta license to carry," the guy bellowed.
"Don't matter. These are the posted rules. No weapons!" Toby said firmly. He got stink eye but even though he was just a kid, the asshole backed down.
"Switch," Wendy said as she entered the hut from the side.
When it was really hot and humid like today, they rotated jobs. Slipping off the stool, Toby stopped at the bathroom next to the gift shop to take a whizz and wipe the sweat off of his face.
Toby grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. Oh well, he thought. Long black hair, well over his ears and down on his neck, impossibly pale complexion, light blue eyes. Like an Irish ghost. Clear skin with a few small black moles here and there. Pink lips. So pink they looked like he was wearing lipstick. So plain and boring. He wished he could be anything other than Irish like everyone else he knew. Italian or Spanish, maybe, or Black. It would be so cool to be Black with shiny smooth dark skin.
After spending thirty minutes or so ringing up t-shirts and toys, he was back selling admissions.
He took some pride in being able look at a group of people and instantly calculate the price without counting. Before him now, a family.
"Sixty-four." He said.
The man pulled the credit card out of his pocket. Toby smiled to himself. Yup! Two parents, a senior, probably a grandparent, two kids, and a teenager lagging behind. Sixty-four bucks. After ringing him up, he pulled wristbands from the piles in front of him. One by one, they came forward. Blue ones for the adults, green for grandma. Leaning over, he attached the yellow ones on the wrists of the two kids. As they turned away, the teenage boy came forward, extending his wrist.
Toby's jaw dropped. Standing before him was perhaps the most beautiful guy he'd ever seen. About his age, maybe eighteen, Toby thought. Slightly built and fine boned. Slender, about 5'7" or 5'8." Olive toned skin; nice tan. Medium brown hair, natural highlights, straight and parted down the middle. Long, it fell just past his shoulders. Almond shaped brown eyes, long nose, high cheek bones, thin lips, and full eye brows.
Toby purposely kept his eyes down as he wound the yellow band around his wrist, noting the fine dark hairs on the boy's tanned forearm. Turning around without a word, Toby watched him begin to follow the rest of the family as they strolled to the lighthouse. The boy suddenly veered off and headed toward the other exhibits. As he did, he turned with a quirky looking smile and gave Toby a quick wave.
Shit! He wasn't even with that family! Toby grimaced as he realized he'd been duped into charging the man for someone who wasn't even part of his group. He thought about going after him but was interrupted by a couple asking about the ticket prices.
Busying himself the rest of the afternoon, he blew the whole thing off. He'd made that mistake once before. Toby vowed not to make it again.
Five thirty. The end of the day didn't come soon enough. Hot, tired, he put everything away, closed the ticket window and locked the hut. As he turned to walk toward his car in the parking lot, he noticed Betty still standing in the doorway leading to the lighthouse stairway.
"Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine," She counted out loud.
"What's up, Betty?" Toby asked as he approached her.
Betty, one of the Tybee Lighthouse's most dedicated volunteers, regularly handed out and collected entry cards to the lighthouse. That's how they controlled how many people could safely be on the stairs and roaming around the catwalk at the top. Betty gave each person entering a card which she, in turn, collected when they came back down. If all thirty cards were handed out, no one was admitted until someone else finished descending the steps.
"We're missing a card," she said with a worried look on her face.
"No big deal. Someone accidentally walked off with one."
"Not on my watch!" Betty said emphatically.
"Well, what do you want to do?"
"Someone is going to have to go up to the top and check." She looked at him.
"Aw right." Betty was probably in her eighties. Even though he was sweaty and tired, he was also only sixteen. "I'll check it out. Go ahead. I'll lock up."
Toby trudged up the steps. At least the thick walls and dim light kept it somewhat cooler than the air outside. Every twenty-five steps or so, he came to a landing that led to a small window. He glanced at each one as he went up the stairs, just to make sure no one was lurking in a corner.
When he finally reached the top, he pulled the heavy iron door open and stepped out onto the catwalk that surrounded the lamp house. A breath of cooler sea air hit his face. Refreshing, he thought. Seeing no one, he decided to check the far side of the lamp house, the side facing the setting sun.
It was him.
He stood there with his arms crossed over the top rail, one foot up on the bottom rail, looking out to the western horizon. Toby's breath caught in his throat.
"It's nice up here."
"Ummm...ya." Toby tried to think of something profound to say.
"You found me."
Found? What did that mean? Collecting himself, "Ya know, we're closed."
"So?"
"And you didn't even pay."
He smirked. "Ya."
Toby was tongue tied. As he looked at the boy, he realized that he had completely unbuttoned his shirt. The breeze flapped it open. Tanned skin, smooth. A slight definition to his chest, one perfect brown nipple visible. Flat stomach. Tiny treasure trail below his belly button.
"Nice place to watch the sunset from. Kinda romantic, if you're with the right person."
