Stormcatchers

The Week Before

I blinked awake, groaning as I heard the clunk of pans on the kitchen oven. It wasn't two seconds before I realised what day it was and sprung to my feet with a long yawn and stretch. I could hear Mother laughing from the kitchen as I tripped over my own feet, scrambling around a messy room to find clothes to pull on. I walked out into the hallway , eyes still getting used to the morning light that peered through the windows and bounced off white walls.
"Have you seen the mailman go by yet, mother?" I could almost hear her rolling her eyes at me. She couldn't blame me for being excited, could she? I'd been waiting for this morning for years.
"Son, I know how excited you are, but can you just come to the kitchen and have some breakfast before you're off chasing Mr. Rogers down like some neighbourhood dog?" I inhaled and exhaled in a deep sigh.
"Fine, mom..." my voice rang as I stepped toward the kitchen. The bread and grapefruit jam on the table looked like a great start to the day, and the smell of sausage with onions impregnated the room.
She gave me a warm smile as I pulled one of the small wooden chairs back to seat myself. "You're all grown up already..." Her voice was filled with nostalgia and her eyes visibly trailed off to remember my childhood.
"Mother," I said with a small, slightly concerned smile, bringing her to reality. "I've been growing up for the past twenty years and I'm afraid I'm not going to stop anytime soon." She laughed sweetly and turned the oven off, placing the pan on the table and taking a seat across from me, leaning on her elbows over the table.
"You know what I mean. I feel like just last month I was changing your diapers and like I spent the past week teaching you how to walk. And now you're a beautiful man all ready to leave home to live your life..." I listened, with a grin involuntarily plastered across my lips, while assembling a sausage sandwich. Her eyes were still distant with memory.
"Mother, you taught me how to walk more than eighteen years ago." I chuckled a little. "Now I'm going from walking to flying. It's amazing, not tragic."
She shook her head. "See, saying that makes me even more frightened." I raised an eyebrow  questioningly, taking a large bite off the bread. "You fell on your head very often during your baby steps phase. And a few years after that," she teased me, laughing, and I just rolled my eyes. "If you fall on it now, it won't just be a bump and a few tears."
We had just about finished eating ten minutes later, when the doorbell rang. There were knocks on the door and an anxious voice requested: "May I speak to Mr. Corviell?"
I recognised the voice, bolted to the door and opened it to greet the mailman. He shuffled through a few letters to stall, but I already had my eyes on the prize. That coffee-stain tinted envelope...
Mr.  Rogers handed me the grainy paper. I grinned and held it carefully, thanked him, though dazed I was, and went back inside.
I ran a finger through the delicate and detailed, fine golden curves that decorated the paper, eager to open the letter. But I couldn't bring myself to do it until my mother, who was watching my absent-minded smile from the other end of the hallway, told me to.
The letter read:
Greetings and congratulations, Mattheus Corviell
It is a pleasure to write to you from the entire League of Stormriders. We are happy to inform you have been recruited as crewman aboard La Bella. You must board upon the seventh morning of autumn. We warn also that you are only a temporary crew member and might be replaced at any time the ship anchors. Safe travels.
Below that were all the standard forms, contracts, warnings and informations - any physical damage in the workplace was to be solely my responsibility unless proven otherwise and all that yaddah about danger, among other things.
I spent the next five days picking out the things I'd take with me. Six months away from home, doing what I always wanted. My mother, on the other hand, spent her time acting as if I were going to war, saying countless goodbyes and looking at me as if I were already only a delusional memory.
"Mother, my dear, you know I will come back, don't you?" I asked at one point in the very last night, to which she smiled sadly and shook get head.
"You're going to return a different man. I'm sure of it."
I frowned after she said that. The undertone of melancholy in her voice made me think back to the first time I left the city without her by my side.
"Mother," I called vaguely, and to that she hummed questioningly. "Will you still be here when I come back?" I guess now I know that was more of a way of asking if I'd come back to the same life I used to have. She gave me no answer but a look in the eye and a sweet smile, followed by a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Go to sleep, darling, you have a full day ahead of you tomorrow."