The Tempests Rise

Part 1 A Cold Spring

A Sinking Ship 

1912 

Ophelie 

The ship loomed over their heads. The air was filled with shouts, good and bad. A broken leash set a yapping dog racing through the crowds, the little creature knocked against Ophelie's ankle. Something sharp bit into the flesh above her shoe. She reached down to rub it but her brother, Corentin, grabbed her arm, he shook his head at her, tossing dark hair into his eyes.

"We need to hurry," he said. He yanked his hat from his back pocket, then with a shove of his hand he flattened his hair back before he plopped the old hat over top of it. Keeping it off his face. He looked older that way.

Ophelie reached for her ankle again. It still hurt, her fingers brushed through her nylons as he reached for her fingers. He gripped them tight as he pulled the only bag they had over his other shoulder. He led the way, weaving them through the crowds.

"Wait," she called out as she hopped on one foot. She dropped it down on the wharf as they came alongside the massive ship. The air smelled. She caught the sourness of dead fish and the tang of steam at the back of her throat.

She brought her hand to her mouth but her brother swatted it down.

"Don't," he hissed. His grey eyes narrowed as he turned his face toward the planks which ran from the ship to the wharf. Officers stood at the top of the planks, glancing at tickets and inspecting the steerage class. "If they think your sick they won't let us on."

"I'm not sick," she protested. "Its the smells." but he was pulling her along again, ignoring her excuses. There was a line up at the end of the plank.

"Cor," she said. Her feet were lagging as he pulled her into the line up. She stared upward, trying to get a sense of the ship. The air was cooler by the water, she could feel it now that sweat trickled down the back of her neck.

"Stand up straight," Corentin whispered, not that anyone could hear him over horns honking behind them. She pushed her shoulders back to appease him but she craned her head around, looking for the car. There was more than one. They carried wealth. Mostly they carried baggage. It was more than she could imagine in one place. Even in their home, back on their island, Corentin and her had never had so many things.

She looked at the bag over her brother's shoulder. It was all they had left. It was enough for them to start a new life. All that mattered were the crumpled papers tucked safely away in the pocket of his jacket. Tickets.

He reached for her hand again, as if he could read her thoughts. Her lips tugged into a smile as she squeezed his fingers. It was luck, he had told her the night he had brought the tickets home.

The horn blared behind her again as a wind whipped off the cold water of the channel. She half turned this time, her fingers still gripped her brother's as she sought out those cars. Men muddled around them. A case had dropped, the shiny brass clasps had held and now two men leaned down to haul it onto the cart.

She shielded her eyes against the wind and her flying hair, most of it was tucked under the hat she wore. Unlike her brother's, some of it managed to fly away. It hurt her eyes, making them burn but now she focused. Her attention drawn to the chests and the man who slipped out from the back seat. His greying hair curled at his ears and his eyes shifted towards the ship before dropping to his hand.

Ophelie's own eyes flicked down, catching sight of the glint of silver. Even all this way from him she could almost here the ticking time. It clicked in her head, counting down the minutes and the seconds. Tiny increments of time, but they marched out in a line before her. Her eyes half closed as the sound became a rhythm.