Source: @freewritehouse
It was the dull thud of his bedroom shutters that woke him. His wife stirred upon hearing the yowling wind. The first thing he did was comfort her. She'd be too weak to assist.
"You'll have to close them from outside," she wheezed from behind while pointing toward the window. "Sorry I can't help," she offered, then fell back on her pillow.
"That's fine. Try to go back to sleep. I"ll check on things downstairs."
Anthony bolted through the kitchen door into the dining room. He stopped short of the table to adjust his rain coat, then approached and sat to put on his boots. The harder the wind blew, the louder the shutters rattled.
"Is dad home? He didn't bid us goodnight upon his retiring." His voice shook as he watched his mother sitting at the table as if in a trance.
Catherine stared out the bay window as dark clouds rumbled across the night's sky in search of the well-lit moon. They found their target shedding light on the lighthouse and surrounding row houses near the shoreline.
Restlessness had waken her two hours earlier.
When Rover lifted his head and growled, she rose as quickly as she could almost tumbling over the chair and made her way to the door. She swung it open. No less than three drenched men stood in her doorway. The rain continued to douse them as it mixed with their strained expressions.
For one terrifying moment, she thought to slam the door in their faces. She didn't want to know. But that wouldn't bring Rod home. So, she extended her hand in an inviting gesture.
"We don't want to trample on your spotless floor, Mrs. Hendricks," one of the rescuers responded demurely. "Second shift took over. They're still patrolling. Two vessels with eleven sailors total aboard were returning home. Just wanted to stop by and check whether you'd heard anything from Rod."
From one to the other, Anthony sought confirmation of the answer he already suspected. Finished dressing, he rushed over and stood behind his mother, clutching her shoulders.
"I'm joining the search party. Fully licensed I am." His statement wasn't a request of the men.
"No, you won't!" exclaimed Catherine as she turned and grabbed Anthony's jacket." Looking up, she pleaded, "in all likelihood, I've lost your father this night. I'll not be left without a son too. You have other responsibilities, mind you."
"How can you be so calm? You act as though you..." Anthony trailed off.
"Twenty-five years the wife of a sailor. I'm a fish wife, as they say. If I lost my wits about me every time your father set sail, I would've been long dead or in an institution. Then who would've taken care of you?"
The rescuers stared at the floor trying not to listen. They'd heard this reasoning before. More than once from their own wives.
"Damn it woman, I'll not give up as you apparently have. There's still hope. My dad is as tough as any sailor in every sense. If he would have perished, I would have sensed it."
Color had drained from Catherine's face as she stared at her son. She didn't want to respond that she'd already sensed it. Anthony had never spoken to her in that manner. She knew other worries upstairs as dire as this situation that he couldn't control occupied his thoughts.
To an outsider, outward manner probably gave that impression of detachment. She reached for her bottle of antacids. Her stomach hadn't been churning all day below while saddled with a massive headache above. However, she chose her words carefully as she'd practiced for decades.
"That's the life card family is dealt. It's sustained me these many years. I'll not change now. I need to keep on living as long as I can. I'll not argue with you boy. Headstrong like your dad. I can't stop you. Just be careful."
Suppressing tears, she watched as Anthony slammed the door behind him.
Catherine turned slowly, walked over and grasped hold of the dining room chair. Once steadied, she sought the table to break her fall. She eased down into the seat. Rover glanced up with sadness before rising and strolling toward her. He placed his head on her lap.
This, she did alone each time a storm rose up while Rod was on the water.
"I know, ole' fella. It'll just be the four of us. For now." Her thoughts turned to Tess. As an example, I'll have to purge it all this night. She'll need me to teach her the life of a "fish wife".
Oddly enough, the night before, she didn't dream of her husband at sea. It was of Anthony's wife and the promise she made to her as they sat at the same table. The moon shone through the window, watching them drink cups of tea. With hands locked, Catherine comforted her with a promise.
The clock chimed interrupting her thoughts.
She glanced quickly at its hands, striking 2 a.m. She'd been sitting for an hour with her elbows on the table and hands cupping her chin. She rose slowly toward the refrigerator to retrieve the night's feeding.
Lighting the stove's pilot, she warmed the milk bottle before heading upstairs to her granddaughter's room.
Welcome back to my freewrite prompt story for this week. If I miss one week in the Freewriter's Community Challenge for "A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words" I often revisit the Community and see which prompt week inspires me write a story. The photo that is the subject of my story spoke to me about a person who looks lonely or is waiting on someone to return.
Describe what you see.
A woman who appears middle-aged is sitting at a table. Staring out a window, she cups her face in her hand. The moon shines bright behind the thin curtains. A gray-coated canine rests near her. Flowers are scattered on the floor.
On the opposite side of the room an alarm clock lays on the floor. The hour showing is approximately ten minutes past two o'clock a.m. Bouquets of flowers rest in various spots in the room. The home looks as if it's been well lived in.
Describe what you feel.
The woman is in pain waiting for someone to return home. In the alternative, she may have just received bad news about the loss of a loved one and is now processing it. Perhaps, she's just thinking as she may live alone with her canine.
Write a story or poem about what you think is going on. I leave with you my story for: A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words - 3/1/24.
Image used with permission of contest owner
For your convenience, I have included below a Spanish translation from DeepL for "Promise On A Moonlit Night" - Freewrite: 3/1/24 | Prompt: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words.
Promise On A Moonlit Night
Promesa en una noche de luna
Source: @freewritehouse
Bienvenidos de nuevo a mi historia de esta semana. Si me pierdo una semana del Reto de la Comunidad de Escritores Libres «Una imagen vale más que mil palabras», suelo volver a visitar la Comunidad y ver qué semana me inspira para escribir una historia. La foto que es el tema de mi historia me habló de una persona que se ve sola o que está esperando a que alguien regrese.
Describa lo que ve
Una mujer de mediana edad está sentada a la mesa. Mira por la ventana y se tapa la cara con la mano. La luna brilla tras las finas cortinas. Un perro de pelaje gris descansa cerca de ella. Hay flores esparcidas por el suelo.
En el lado opuesto de la habitación hay un despertador en el suelo. La hora que marca son aproximadamente las dos y diez minutos de la madrugada. Ramos de flores descansan en varios puntos de la habitación. Parece que la casa ha estado bien habitada.
Describe lo que sientes
La mujer sufre esperando que alguien vuelva a casa. Otra posibilidad es que acabe de recibir una mala noticia sobre la pérdida de un ser querido y esté procesándola. Tal vez, ella sólo está pensando como ella puede vivir sola con su canino.
Escribe una historia o un poema sobre lo que crees que está pasando. Os dejo mi historia para:
A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words - 3/1/24.
Fue el ruido sordo de las contraventanas de su dormitorio lo que le despertó. Su mujer se revolvió al oír el aullido del viento. Lo primero que hizo fue consolarla. Ella estaría demasiado débil para ayudarle.
«Tendrás que cerrarlas desde fuera», resolló ella desde atrás mientras señalaba hacia la ventana. «Siento no poder ayudar», se ofreció, y luego se dejó caer sobre la almohada.
«No pasa nada. Intenta volver a dormirte. Voy a ver cómo va todo abajo».
Anthony salió corriendo por la puerta de la cocina hacia el comedor. Se detuvo cerca de la mesa para ajustarse el impermeable, luego se acercó y se sentó para ponerse las botas. Cuanto más soplaba el viento, más sonaban las contraventanas.
«¿Papá está en casa? No nos dio las buenas noches al retirarse». Le temblaba la voz mientras observaba a su madre sentada a la mesa como en trance.
Catherine miró por el ventanal mientras unas nubes oscuras surcaban el cielo nocturno en busca de la luna bien iluminada. Encontraron su objetivo arrojando luz sobre el faro y las casas adosadas de los alrededores, cerca de la costa.
La inquietud la había despertado dos horas antes.
Cuando Rover levantó la cabeza y gruñó, ella se levantó lo más rápido que pudo, casi cayendo sobre la silla, y se dirigió a la puerta. La abrió de un tirón. No menos de tres hombres empapados estaban en su puerta. La lluvia seguía mojándolos mientras se mezclaba con sus expresiones crispadas.
Por un momento, pensó en cerrarles la puerta en las narices. No quería saberlo. Pero eso no traería a Rod a casa. Así que extendió la mano en un gesto de invitación.
«No queremos pisotear su suelo inmaculado, señora Hendricks», respondió recatadamente uno de los rescatadores. «El segundo turno tomó el relevo. Siguen patrullando. Dos embarcaciones con once marineros en total a bordo regresaban a casa. Sólo quería pasar a comprobar si habían tenido noticias de Rod».
De uno a otro, Anthony buscó la confirmación de la respuesta que ya sospechaba. Terminó de vestirse, se apresuró y se colocó detrás de su madre, agarrándola por los hombros.
«Me uno al grupo de búsqueda. Con licencia completa». Su declaración no fue una petición de los hombres.
«¡No, no lo harás!», exclamó Catherine mientras se daba la vuelta y agarraba la chaqueta de Anthony. «** Mirando hacia arriba, suplicó, *»con toda probabilidad, he perdido a tu padre esta noche. No me quedaré sin un hijo también. Tienes otras responsabilidades, eso sí «.
«¿Cómo puedes estar tan tranquilo? Actúas como si...» Anthony se interrumpió.
"Veinticinco años la esposa de un marinero. Soy la esposa de un pez, como dicen. Si perdiera la cordura cada vez que tu padre zarpa, hace tiempo que estaría muerta o en una institución. Entonces, ¿quién habría cuidado de ti? «.
Los salvadores miraron al suelo intentando no escuchar. Ya habían oído este razonamiento antes. Más de una vez de sus propias esposas.
«Maldita sea mujer, no me rendiré como parece que tú lo has hecho. Todavía hay esperanza. Mi padre es tan duro como cualquier marinero en todos los sentidos. Si hubiera perecido, lo habría sentido».
A Catherine se le había ido el color de la cara mientras miraba fijamente a su hijo. No quiso responder que ya lo había presentido. Anthony nunca le había hablado de esa manera. Ella sabía que otras preocupaciones de arriba tan graves como esta situación que él no podía controlar ocupaban sus pensamientos.
A una persona ajena, su actitud externa probablemente le daba esa impresión de distanciamiento. Buscó su frasco de antiácidos. Su estómago no había estado revolviéndose todo el día abajo mientras cargaba con un enorme dolor de cabeza arriba. Sin embargo, eligió sus palabras con cuidado, como había practicado durante décadas.
*"Es la carta que le ha tocado a la familia en la vida. Me ha sostenido todos estos años. No cambiaré ahora. Necesito seguir viviendo mientras pueda. No discutiré contigo, muchacho. Cabezota como tu padre. No puedo detenerte. Sólo ten cuidado».
Reprimiendo las lágrimas, vio cómo Anthony cerraba la puerta tras de sí.
Catherine se giró lentamente, se acercó y se agarró a la silla del comedor. Una vez estabilizada, buscó la mesa para amortiguar la caída. Se acomodó en el asiento. Rover levantó la vista con tristeza antes de levantarse y pasear hacia ella. Apoyó la cabeza en su regazo.
Esto lo hacía ella sola cada vez que se levantaba una tormenta mientras Rod estaba en el agua.
"Lo sé, amigo. Sólo seremos nosotros cuatro. Por ahora. « Sus pensamientos se volvieron hacia Tess. Como ejemplo, tendré que purgarlo todo esta noche. Necesitará que le enseñe la vida de una «esposa pez».
Curiosamente, la noche anterior no soñó con su marido en el mar. Fue con la mujer de Anthony y la promesa que le hizo mientras estaban sentados a la misma mesa. La luna brillaba a través de la ventana, observándoles tomar tazas de té. Con las manos entrelazadas, Catherine la consolaba con una promesa.
El reloj sonó interrumpiendo sus pensamientos.
Miró rápidamente las manecillas, que marcaban las dos de la madrugada. Llevaba una hora sentada con los codos apoyados en la mesa y las manos ahuecándose la barbilla. Se levantó despacio hacia la nevera para coger la comida de la noche.
Encendió el piloto de la estufa y calentó el biberón de leche antes de subir a la habitación de su nieta.
SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
If translation included, I use DeepL to assist my readers.
Thanks for your patience an understanding.
Si se incluye traducción, utilizo DeepL para ayudar a mis lectores.
Gracias por su paciencia y comprensión.
Your story is touching and rich with tension. I see Anthony and Catherine as opposites. He thinks she's cold but it's her way of dealing with the situation. She understands the risks of being married to a sailor and has lived it many times. Anthony is more like a hopeful Thomas—he must 'see' for himself.
I admire Catherine's resilience. One could say that she's weak but I disagree. Moving on even when the heart is heavy is strength! A fine and well-written story. Nicely done. ✨
!PIMP
After growing up in a fisherman family, it would seem as though Anthony understood the daily risks each time his father set sail. He's not a sailor, so he and his wife doesn't life that life, although they live with his parents. I allowed his wife to remain upstairs since she fell ill.
I also admire Catherine's resilience in taking care of the entire family, including her daughter-in-law and granddaughter. She's of no use in keeping the home afloat if she were to crash and burn.
I hope that Anthony returns safely to help his mother deal with the loss and care for his responsibilities upstairs. It will probably go a long way in relieving some of the stress on Catherine.
Thanks so much for your visit and excellent analysis of my story. I appreciate it as always. Take care and have a good rest of your weekend.
!LADY
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Like always an enjoyable story and today I feel a bit like Catherine. A good Sunday dear friend.
Thanks so much for your visit. I've felt like Catherine each day my spouse left for 12-hour shifts in a machining industry. It's tough to condition yourself to a dangerous environment. We do what we must to support.
I appreciate your engagement and support. Take care and have a good Sunday as well.
!LADY
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Such a beautiful story ... it picks up the poignancy of that picture wonderfully!
I was hoping the woman's countenance while sitting at the table staring out would inspire a deep story of the struggles she dealt with from all directions. I appreciate the kind compliment. Thanks so much for your visit and support. Have a lovely rest of your weekend.
Take care.
!LADY
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lonely stories
Thanks so much for stopping by @latinowinner. I appreciate it. Did you mean "lonely" or "lovely". Of course I'd prefer "lovely", but the theme of the story is a bit lonely, especially since the woman feels she has lost her husband at sea. Thanks for your support. Take care and have a good rest of your weekend.
!BEER
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