Kitchen Witch

33 | Storm Brewing

The water frothed back and forth, white caps forming and churning up the red sand bed, giving the oceanfront the look of chocolate milk. Charlotte had come down to the beach with Charlie for their early morning stroll, hoping it would help ease the apprehension she was feeling. She sighed, checking her phone for an embarrassing umpteenth time, hoping to see a reply from Riley. She had texted him the night before to check in but hadn't heard back. He was probably working late and back out early.

I'm sorry for the other night–

Let me make it up to you, come by for dinner?

Charlie misses you, too.

She cringed at her attempt to use Charlie to mend the way. Pocketing her phone, she called Charlie, who was busy chasing a large group of seagulls. Putting her worries aside momentarily, she began to take in the morning's chaos. There was an abnormal number of birds out this morning. The gulls were having a feeding frenzy with all the turned-up food from the wash. The plovers, always erratic little birds, seemed restless and chaotic in their movements running along the shore. Even the majestic cormorants seemed unsettled, perched out on the rocks, taking in the scene. Old Man Murray was likely right, and a storm would surely turn up soon. She quickened her steps back to the house, anxious to get into her apothecary to distract herself.

Even with a lifetime of practice today's waters required effort to stay steady on his feet. Riley's weathered hands moved deftly, double and triple checking the rigging, and that equipment was safely tied down and stowed away as they made their way amidst the chop to what he hoped would be payday. He was still surprised that Doyle had wanted to set out as planned. The weather wasn't looking promising, and even though the weather network wasn't showing anything too alarming coming their way, there was certainly something in the air that said otherwise. But who was he to argue with the Captain? Like his Dad said, Doyle had a way of knowing, and he wasn't in a position to turn down an opportunity right now. 

A wave washed across the deck, and Riley shifted his weight to steady; he was beginning to see why Scotty had turned down the work earlier this morning. Scotty wasn't one to turn away a good payday; they had even gotten into a bit of a row about it. Scotty had pushed him to stay home as well, had called him a stubborn fool who couldn't see past his nose and even accused him of pushing Charlotte away. He had overstepped on that one. He had had some choice words then, which escaped him now over the ocean's roar. They were getting close to the fishing grounds. There was a small crew on board today, and they would need to work together on this chop to make a safe haul. Riley held on tightly to the rig, wishing he wasn't such a stubborn ass and that Scotty was here.

Charlotte distracted herself in the apothecary to keep her mind off the unanswered text and growing sense of unease. Not feeling up to the task and energy requirement of making new inventory, she attacked the small, mindless tasks of washing returned jars and setting them out to dry. Taking down dried herbs, storing them in glass jars, and making new labels. The radio was set to the local station, and she sang along to one of her favourite country songs. She smiled, thinking of how the girls would cringe at her newfound love of country. Ready to belt out the chorus, she carried her newly filled and labelled jars over to the shelf by the sink window. But the radio switched to white noise, and a scratchy hissing noise filled the room.

"Lord, jumpin' Jesus!" She shrieked, almost dropping her jars, completely caught off guard by the rather large black bird sitting at her outdoor window sill, staring right at her. Charlie, startled by Charlotte's shout, joined in barking at the bird. 

"Shoo away with you!" She hollered from inside, but the bird continued to stare right at her and cawed loudly.

Charlotte had always found the blackbirds fascinating, but in the last day or so, they had been downright creepy, almost ominous. She did her best to ignore the bird and placed the jars on the shelf as her phone vibrated in her apron pocket. A cold breeze blew through the open window as she fumbled to retrieve her phone.

"Charlotte, you need to come down to the market– we need you." Sarah rushed, sounding anxious.

"What's wrong? Is everything ok?" Charlotte asked, looking out at the blackbird still staring at her, almost statue-like, a shiver running up her spine.

"I'll explain everything when you arrive --please hurry."

Charlotte ended the call and quickly untied her apron, ushering Charlie to follow as she headed for the front door.

Charlotte hadn't wasted time in getting to the Market despite the rapidly worsening weather. The sky had become quite dark, and the winds had picked up something fierce. She hurried up the Harbour Haven's steps, taking note of the line of black birds on the power lines outside the market. 

"It's like a goddamn Alfred Hitchcock movie." She muttered, opening the door.

The bells rang, and the people gathered at the back coffee station turned. Sarah called out immediately, "Char over here."

Charlotte made her way over, taking note of the group. She recognized a few of the women as wives of the local fisherman. Some she didn't recognize, and then there was Scotty pacing back and forth, looking grim. She squeezed her hands, feeling anxious and waiting for some news that would ostracize her again.

Scotty spoke first, taking off his cap and ringing it through his hands. "Riley went out with the tuna crew out of North Lake this morning."

"In this weather? I wouldn't have thought any would be out fishing today?" She could feel the pressure building in her chest.

One of the women she didn't recognize spoke out. "Normally, any fisherman with their head on straight wouldn't have. But that damn Doyle filled their heads with the promise of a payday they couldn't refuse."

"But they will be ok; I mean, I haven't even heard anything on the radio yet about a weather statement."

"Check your phone," Scotty said, looking grim.

She removed her phone from her pocket and didn't even have to open the weather app before a series of alerts appeared on her screen.

"I've been monitoring the area where they were going to fish, and it's right in the thick of it," Scotty added.

Sarah stepped forward, placing her hand on Scotty's shoulder. "Charlotte, we need you, we need your–"

Charlotte's heart thumped. She couldn't be hearing this right. "What do you mean? What can I do?" She asked, sounding almost frantic. 

This couldn't be happening again. Were they going to call her out right there?

Sharon, one of the wives she recognized, looked at Charlotte with a pleading sort of look. She was pretty sure she came into the store to keep her husband stocked up on Tidal Relief, a cream made especially for the fishermen. "Charlotte, it's ok. I know after what happened last time, you might be wary. But we know – we all know – you have special talents, and we need them now."

Sarah joined in, her voice having lost its usual twinkle. "You have a link to the wind. Riley described what he saw the night of the Nor'Easter. Surely you could use that now to calm the storm?"

Charlotte reached for support from one of the chair backs. Charlie pushed his head into her legs to offer comfort. She could hardly believe this was happening. Every instinct told her to deny it and head back home. But Riley was out there. Their husbands were out there. The look on Sharon's face. 

She squeezed the chair back hard, took a deep breath and said, "I'll try. I'll do what I can."

There was a collective sigh of relief from the group. Sarah stepped away from Scotty and placed her hands on her hips. "What can we do to help you?"