Free Town In a Lobster Stew by B.B. Haywood

room, her thick-heeled shoes rapping solidly on the wooden floor. She extended her hand as she came forward. “I’m Charlotte Depew, the museum’s director and advisor to the historical society.”
    “Hello, Charlotte. Nice to finally meet you.”
    “And you, Candy.” They shook hands in a businesslike manner. Charlotte’s hands were small, but her handshake was surprisingly firm, Candy noticed.
    “Yes, we’ve talked on the phone a few times,” the director said, “but it’s nice to finally put a face to a voice. Your column is very informative. We read it whenever we get a chance. Don’t we, Captain Mike?”
    “That we do. I’ve read it,” Mike said adamantly as he took his place behind the counter. “Yup, I’ve read it.”
    “Mike’s a longtime volunteer here,” Charlotte said. “He always goes above and beyond the call of duty. Don’t you, Captain Mike?”
    He gave her a halfhearted wave.
    “I just don’t know what we’d do without our volunteers,” Charlotte continued. “There always seems to be too much to do around here. Without their help, we’d never get anything done. I see you were checking out our new display.” She motioned toward the lightkeeper and his family.
    “Oh . . . yes. It’s very well done.”
    “You know, I created those costumes and made the wigs myself. Everything is authentic, either originals or replicas based on photographs we have in our archives. It took us nearly six months to assemble all the components for this display.”
    “You must be very proud of it,” Candy said.
    “Yes . . . well, of course we are. A lot of people put in a lot of hard work on this. I’m glad you finally have a chance to see it. We’ve been hoping you would stop by soon so we could show it off. Perhaps you can write up something about it in the paper.” She seemed a bit jittery and touched at her somewhat askew hair, trying to tuck a few loose strands back into place.
    “Oh, sure, that would be great. In fact, that’s why I came around. I wanted to talk to you about your new exhibits and displays, special programs you might have coming up, that sort of thing. Of course,” Candy added, seeing Charlotte glance surreptitiously at her watch, “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time. I probably should have called ahead.”
    Charlotte was silent for a moment. “Yes, well, we are very busy around here today, with the upcoming holiday weekend and all. We have a few special projects going on Saturday and Sunday for our guests.”
    “She’s very busy,” Captain Mike called from across the room.
    Candy gave him an indulgent smile.
    “But as long as you’re here,” Charlotte continued, “I suppose I could spare a few minutes. And I do have some materials I can give you. A recently printed brochure might be helpful. Why don’t we go into my office?”
    She motioned the way, and Candy started off, walking past a number of exhibits, including a large diorama showing the various stages in the construction of the lighthouse station, from earliest days to the present. On the walls hung period photographs and drawings of the lighthouse and surrounding buildings. In one corner stood a Fresnel light, its beehive shape rising more than six feet above its platform. Candy stopped to admire it, and Charlotte paused to explain.
    “The light’s surface is comprised of hundreds of glass prisms arranged in a metal framework,” she told Candy, sounding as if she had repeated the words a thousand times. “The prisms are arranged to magnify and bend the light from a source such as a flame into a single concentrated beam. This particular light can be seen more than twenty miles out at sea, all the way to the horizon. And as you can see, it’s not only highly effective at what it does, but it’s also a work of art.”
    “It’s certainly impressive,” Candy said before she turned and followed Charlotte into her small office tucked into a corner of the building.
    “Please, have a seat.”