When Storms come Part 1

She watched as the candle flickered to life, then with a sudden gust of wind, it sputtered and died. With quick rage she looked to the back door just as her husband closed it. Wordlessly, their eyes met, a darkening gaze between them, and them simultaneously, they looked away.
Again, she pulled a match out and with a flick of her wrist, lit the candle anew. It came to life, lighting up the room, while causing shadows to appear.
The night was coming, and with it dark clouds promising rain. Her husband sat at the fire, feet stretched out towards the flames, seeking warmth. It was easy to guess what words he brought.
"Well?" she finally prompted, her heart now thudding in her chest, at what he would say.
"He's gone" was his reply.
"Didn't you chase him?" Amelia questioned, her anger moving her closer to his chair.
"Of course I did! I caught up with him, but he wouldn't listen to reason" her husband answered, his voice deep to match the darkness of his mood.
'He's gone Amelia. Taking the next ship."
A heart beat passed between them, then two. At any moment Amelia felt like her heart would rip in two.Or maybe it had. Perhaps, at any moment she would fall over, dead, of a broken heart. Unable to speak, it was all she could do to move the chair nearby him, and sit, staring at the fire.
This is what they did: whether the weather was foul or fair, the temperament good or bad, they sat indoors, before a fire, to collect their thoughts before another day was passed.
There were many storms they had weathered as a couple; false accusations and blame, threats and fights, loss of money and loved ones, but this somehow seemed the hardest of all.
"Now what?" Amelia asked a bare whisper in the silence. She looked at James, whose face wore a considerable frown.
"There is nothing to do but wait" his words made it sound so easy that it frustrated Amelia just to hear them.
"Wait?" she exclaimed, "how can we wait? Our only son, against better judgement, and in rebellion, has gone out to sea!"
She stood abruptly, and looked out at the darkened skies, "even now the sky threatens to unleash its storm! He could get lost at sea tonight! And you say to just 'wait'!"
"There is no other option! I have tried Amelia, I have! But ort son has made his choice. He must pay for the consequences!
"And so will we! For we are his parents, and he our son!" The tears flowed unashamedly, straining past the bitter lump in her throat. As if stirring from a dream, James looked at her and realizing her anguish, stood and took her in his arms.
His own sorrow was great, but inexpressible. Words did not come easy to him and, even as he held her shaking form, no words of comfort or encouragement came to his tongue.

~
Liam rode against the cold damp wind, towards the village port. Rain was in the air; he could smell it and almost taste it in his mouth. A good cup of tea-or even something a wee bit stronger, would suit him well right now.
This, he decided, would be the first thing he would seek once he arrived at the port. He arrived in the village just as the first drop of rain touched his face. Slowing his horse to a trot, he rode through the village which contained a few stone buildings, aged with weather: a post office, general store and several scattered homes with roofs of thatch. Altogether, the smell of peat was heavy in the air.
Beyond them, lay the pier and from where he was, Liam could see the angry waters of the sea; rough and dark with the storm. It was those very waters that he hoped to set sail on.
Leaving his horse with the nearby stable, Liam decided to first visit the tavern. Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a pint and observed the room around him. Despite it exterior, the inside had decent room, with tables, though rough around the edges, were well kept, chairs were smoothed down from wear and the lighting, though dim kept away the gloom. All in all, it was a fine place for one to spend his time-which is what many were doing this night.
Here or there a few men lingered, most accompanied by friends, most without a woman at hand.
"Can you tell me if the 'Fair Lady' is docked?" Liam asked when the bartender came with his drink.
"Ah sure, it's been docked at least an hour or so" the man answered before moving to another customer.
"Who wants to know?"
Liam looked to his left, where an elderly man sat, his dark blue eyes fairly twinkled, although his face appeared weathered from many days beneath the sun. He gave Liam a side glance before sipping his beer.
"You are?" Liam asked, already wary.
"Jim McCullough" the man answered, almost proudly,, as if his name alone held some significance. "You aren't from around here. Even your lilt is different. Where are you from?"
"Outside Dublintown" Liam replied.
"Ah" the man said, when he realized Liam would offer no other information. Instead, he looked into his drink as if all the answers he needed were there. Liam took a few sips from his own mug, thinking the sooner he was out, the better. He certainly couldn't afford to miss the boat out.
"So then, where is it you'd be going now?" Jim suddenly asked.
"My business is my own" Liam answered, almost aggressively before his tone softened somewhat, "I just don't want to share."
"Ah sure, I mean no harm. A lad can do what he likes. But you should know, there is trouble on the 'Fair Lady'"
"Trouble?" Liam perked up, "the captain spoke of no such thing."
"Of course not! Why would he went he needs fresh men?"
"How do you know this?" Liam demanded, his mind spinning; any number of things may happen abroad a ship-from cheats to mutiny, he heard all the stories from other sailors at home.
"I was once abroad her; first mate I was. Know the captain well: his ways are old and the crew unhappy."
"Mutiny?"
The old man shrugged, "cannot say what may take place. I left before anything could take place.
'I'm old now, and my time for sailing has come to an end. Some adventures, though I did have-from the balmy airs of Madrid, to the north Atlantic shores..." he chuckled lightly as some far off memory flittered past his vision.
"Ah yes, those were the days."
Drowning his drink down, Liam quickly stood; he need to find Captain Farrell before anything else was done.
The rain was reduced to a light wetting when Liam found the Fair Lady at the dock. She was a fine ship, smoothed with the roughness of many storms; wood dark with age and masts weathered with time. Still, in Liam's eyes, she was a solid ship, with many years left.
A sailor stood nearby, lighting a pipe to ward off the cold.
"What'cha looking for lad?" he asked, rather crudely, his breath wheezy.
"Is the captain aboard?"
"Aye" that was all Laim needed to hear before climbing up to the deck. He went below first, searching each room, before moving back up deck, searching for the familiar face of Captain Farell. The Captain himself had approached Liam back home, found him watching the cattle near the river of his family farm. Quickly they got to know each other's acquaintance-or so Liam had thought-with the Captain feeding Liam's interest in going beyond the familiar, to the unknown.
After searching for a few minutes, Liam came across a tall man looking out to sea at the bow of the far side of the ship, his shoulders broad, hands clasped behind his back.
"Captain?" Liam called, standing a few feet away.
The man turned, his square jaw light with stubble, his grey eyes as stormy as the skies above while shadows encircled them, as if he hadn't slept in nights.
"Aye?" he replied and Liam could hear the sharpness in his tone.
"Liam O'Connell. We met a few days past."
It took a moment for Liam's words to sink in before a spark of recognition came across the captain's face.
"What do you want lad?"
"You spoke to me about joining your crew....and I have taken that seriously and come to board."
Unexpectedly, the Captain began to chuckle, which then turned into a dark laugh,
"A lesser man would have let you on lad. But I'm afraid I'm going to tell you otherwise."
His words came to Liam like a punch in the stomach. The disappointment must have appeared on Liam's face, for the Captain quickly continued, "There is trouble aboard my ship that must be dealt with and I won't ask for you to become involved."
"I left hearth and home to come; I went against the wishes of my parents and I have spent myself in rain and wind to come, and only now you're telling me I can't?" anger rose in Liam's voice, he swore before the captain could say another word and stomped away, "it's no wonder there's talk of mutiny!" he shouted as he left the ship.
Burning with anger, Liam returned to the tavern to drink his anger and bitterness away. The elder Jim was gone and only an empty barstool was left. Each swallow of beer no longer tasted sweet to Liam; there was only the anger of rejection in his mouth.
If the God his parents believed to exist was true, then surely he doesn't care Liam thought as he drowned himself in his beer.
With each passing moment, he remembered the hours of the day, now spent; his heavy words to his parents, doors slamming, feet thudding against the floor; voices raised in anger and tears that were shed. It was all replaced with a bitter wind, damp air and light rain as he thundered away on his horse to the seaside village. Sweet thoughts of a brighter future, with distances to cross, were no longer. The sweetness had given away to the sour.
Finally, as voices began to drift away from around him, and the light seemed dimmer, Liam decided it was time to take a room for the night. No longer feeling; hardly seeing, he lay down his head ready for slumber to take him away.