by Francis Jock

Created on: August 08, 2008   Last Updated: May 02, 2012

The Watchlight - Part II

Marcus closed the door to his uncle's cottage behind him. Over his head, the moon gave an eerie luminescence to the surrounding fog. The vacant twinkle of endless numbers of stars crowded his vision, shouting their silence into his consciousness.

A brilliant flash caught his eye, and he shot his gaze west, in the direction of the sleeping town. The flash brought the memory the image of his mother and the day he witnessed a strange lightning passing between her hands.

Marcus remembered the thunder and lightning storm that day was one of fury and revenge. The green and gray skies swirled and dipped, plunging towards his house where his mother was hurriedly trying to wash the kitchen utensils before the storm struck. He saw her reach towards the window as if to take another dish, yet she appeared to be reaching upward, towards the sky and her hands appeared to be open, as if to accept a gift.

She wasn't aware of Marcus's gaze. It was almost as if she had given herself over to the storm, as if she wasn't standing there in front of the window at all.

With a deafening clap of thunder and a flash of blinding light, Marcus saw the orb materialize in the space between her hands. It paused, grew in intensity, changing color from star-white to ultraviolet-blue and back again in an instant. In the moment that it appeared between his mother's hands, it disappeared, as if to sink into her, not through her.

Marcus' mother smiled, appearing grateful and satisfied. It almost as if she had received a blessing from creation itself. Perhaps she had, Marcus thought.

Now aware of Marcus's presence and the fact that he had witnessed the extraordinary event, his mother turned to him. There was no point in asking if he had seen what had just occurred. It was a question of if he understood.

"Marcus," she said, "What you just saw is a gift I have had since I was a child. I don't know why or how, but lightning seems to call me and when it does, I am unable to resist."

Marcus remained silent. In her eyes he could see a faint glow that he had only seen once before, when he was much younger. Perhaps it was only the lingering effect of the lightning orb. Perhaps it was something different.

"When I was around your age," she continued as if to tell some truth that had never been revealed before "I went to visit my uncle and aunt at their home near the northern sea. While I was there, they taught me not to be afraid of the storms. My uncle said that if you open your

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