Broad Rock

Rain fell out of the broken sky, and everything surrendered. Not even sidewalks, which became sludgy with mud that clung to boots and pant bottoms, survived the onslaught. Those who dared brave the violent maelstrom, raging like a foaming sea, quickly turned tail and headed back inside to the warmth deep within homes, sheltered from the wind that wailed and moaned like a ghost lamenting death.

On a shingled rooftop by the sea, an albatross cowered and waited for the menace to move on, for black to become blue, so that she could return to the ocean.  Irene McManus stared out the window of her hotel watching the swell batter the harbour. She crossed herself and whispered a quiet prayer to Saint Brendan, fidgeting with the golden ring on her thumb and remembered the day her Steve had passed. Somehow the ring made her feel his presence anew, but the raging storm stole her attention now, and he had never seemed so far away. 

A phone rang. In the chaos such reminders of the world seemed out of place. Somehow the phone lines had managed to stand so far, but it seemed unlikely they would continue to weather the ferocious winds all night. It was only two years passed that a large winter storm had hit the town and knocked out all the power lines and the telephones, and this was worse by far. Already she’d seen three houses open up like sardine cans as their roofs had peeled away and flew into the aerial scrapyard before screaming back to ground. The phone rang again, waking her from her reverie. 

“Hello, Admiral Arms Hotel, Irene speaking,” she answered, confused that anyone would want to call a hotel at the height of such a storm but eager for business all the same. 

“Mrs McManus,” a low voice, gruff like a roar ominously carrying on the wind, “Jim has gone over—”

The line cut out for a moment and Irene dropped the phone and stumbled backward, falling slightly before steadying herself against the countertop and lifting the handset to her ear. 

“I’m sorry, went over where?” 

“We were out fishing, and we were about three mile off Broad Rock and Jim went over –”

The line went silent. 

Jim. Jim knew better than to go out into this sort of weather, she thought, suddenly aware of the phone still in her hand, silent against the growing cacophony of thunder growing in intensity. He’d grown up by the sea, she thought, Jimmy, me and your Da would never have let you out if there was even a hint of bad weather. She hung the phone and looked out the window into the inky gloom. 

She sat down next to the window and turned Steve’s ring round and round her thumb. Her pulse pounded in her temples and her hands quaked. Trembling, she stood and reached for the phone, desperately dialling 000, hoping that someone might pick up. Her heartbeat rang loud through the silent phone line. 

The guests had been quietened by the storm but now there was a loud series of bumps from upstairs and she wondered what the cause could be. Surely the roof was intact. It had lasted many a storm and just last week, Jim had been up there checking the bolts were sturdy as the storm forecast had been extremely concerning. Footsteps down the central staircase alerted her to one of the guests moving quickly into the restaurant. 

“Everything okay up there in the storm,” Irene said to the young gentleman who had come in the previous night with his young wife.

“I’m afraid we need an ambulance,” he said, moving towards the phone as he spoke, “I don’t suppose I can use your phone.” 

“Line’s out with the storm, sorry. What’s the matter, love?”

“It’s my wife, Mary. She wasn’t due for another two weeks, but she’s gone into labour.”

“Robert!” a voice echoed from upstairs. “Come, now!” 

Irene and Robert looked at each other and weighed up what to do as a flash of lightening lit up the night sky simultaneously with a crash of thunder. The lights flickered for a moment and then went out. 

“I’m going to have to walk. I can get an ambulance to come and get her,” Robert said while Irene fumbled behind the bar for a candle, which she lit and placed on a table in the centre of the room. 

“You can’t go out in this,” she raiser her arm as if to point to the heavens, which were now tumbling in thick sheets upon the town, which was being pummelled by an ocean assault as waves crashed upon the rocky shore.  

She hadn’t had a moment to think of Jim, but the thought of the waves caused her recollection of the moments before, and she wondered if she might also be able to get some information about him if Robert were to go out.

Robert had gone upstairs but reappeared in the dining room with a thick yellow raincoat and a backpack.

“I told Mary that I was going to go out and find help.”

He looked to Irene for reassurance, but she could offer none.

“Can you check up on her for me?” he implored.

“Yes, I can. My Jim has gone missing. Fell overboard. No word.” 

She struggled to speak through the tears that were welling in her eyes. 

“His Da died in an accident a while back and –”

She broke down and sobbed deeply. Robert put his hand on her shoulder. 

“I will see what I can find out,” he said as he opened the door, forcing it with the weight of his body against the force of the wind that howled through the open doorway.

“Please look after Mary while I’m out.”

Irene went upstairs, slowly, using the handrail to steady herself as she walked upstairs, one step at a time. She could hear Mary breathing heavily from the rooms above and remembered the hard labour she’d had with Jim. Steve hadn’t known at all how he could help but Jim was ready to come well before the ambulance could arrive, so she’d called upon her sister, Janice, to help with the birth. Jim had entered the world on the floor of their two-bedroom house over in Ulverstone, and earned himself a reputation for being foolhardy and brash. She knocked on door. Room 103. 

“Hello, dear,” she said to Mary as she entered. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Please just sit with me for now,” Mary said as she winced in pain.

Outside, the wind bashed against the walls of the hotel and growled fiercely. The window bowed inwards with the force of the wind, and lightning lit up the night sky like a devilish display of fireworks, with thunder booming a symphony of carnage. Trees were down all over the town. She could see their silhouettes against the brightness of lightning flashes, as well as the gleam of metal signs downed by the wind. 

“Do you think Robert will be okay?” Mary asked.

“I don’t know,” Irene replied honestly, though she wondered if she should have spared her the truth in favour of a well-meaning lie, “I mean, I am sure he will be fine.” 

Irene pulled at Steve’s wedding band on her thumb. It was too big for her fingers but fit her thumb nicely, meaning she could wear it without having to Aget it resized. It had given her comfort through her grief. She sighed and thought of Jim out there somewhere, perhaps lost to her forever. Broad Rock was a popular fishing spot for trawlers and recreational fishermen, but the currents were hazardous at the best of times. Barely a month went by that someone didn’t come into the hotel with bravado talking of how they almost met their end at the Rock.

Mary moaned loudly and pulled her legs up to her belly before pushing them outwards away from her while clutching at her abdomen. She breathed deeply and deliberately through the pain. “Fuck you, Robert Johnson!” she said as she let out a deep sigh. 

A heavy creaking noise and several large pops burst through the room and wind whipped downwards with rain falling in fast and fat droplets that almost hurt as they hit. A piece of the roof had lifted and was flapping in the wind.

“We’re going to have to get downstairs,” Irene said, putting her arm under Mary’s despite being completely ill-equipped to lift her. 

Mary stood slowly, crouching at first and resting her hands above her knees. She pushed one hand up along her upper leg and stood upright. Slowly, both women hobbled together down the stairs, pausing once to allow a contraction to pass, eventually settling on a couch in the dining hall. 

Mary was breathing rapidly, and the pain had become so intense that she had doubled over on the couch. “I think the baby is coming soon,” she said in a panicked tone. 

“Then let’s get some towels,” Irene said. 

The front door rattled with each wind gust, and a cold draft blew heavily under, into the room. Rainwater seeped into the carpet from the doorway. A tree limb had fallen out the back and smashed a window in the kitchen. The cost of repairs occurred to Irene, and she calculated the worth in staying. In the moment all she wanted was to have her family with her. She could bear almost any hardship with her family. 

Mary moaned and breathed deeply. Irene wrapped a towel around Mary’s head and watched the steamy air around her. 

“Do you think it’s time to push, dear?”

“I think it is,” Mary said as she took a deep breath and gripped Irene’s hand tightly.

The baby’s head was visible, and Mary pushed while she breathed short and fast. 

Across the room, the door swung open and the rain and wind entered, forcibly rampaging through the hotel like a drunkard on a binge. Then, a tall figure stepped through the door and took of his hat and placed a medical bag on the table. 

“Evening ladies, I got here as fast as I could,” said the doctor. 

“Where’s Robert?” Mary asked. 

“He was following just behind me. Said he had to stop in at the police station to find out about someone missing at sea. Should only be a few minutes away.” 

Irene crossed herself and whispered a prayer for Robert and for Jim. It was bad enough to have potentially lost her Jim, but to have someone else caught up in this mess was a tragedy that she hadn’t wanted. 

The doctor administered pain medication and Mary sat up and hunched over on all fours, still breathing rapidly.

“Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?” he asked.

“A girl.”

“Well, she should be here soon.”

Outside a car pulled up. The rain must have begun to clear because the sound of the car rolling through the mud carried into the hotel dining room.

Mary called out. “Is that you, Robbie?” 

The figure that stepped through the doorway was not Robert. He wore a pair of jeans and a yellow rain jacket, but his hair was greying and he wore a fishing vest under the jacket. 

“Marty, come in,” Irene said. She recognised his voice from the phone call now. Marty and Jim had been mates since their first day of primary school, where they had met in a game of soccer.

“Mrs McManus, I got here as soon as I could after the phone cut out.” 

“Any word of my Jim?”

“He fell overboard out at Broad Rock. We managed to get him back onboard and he’s up at the hospital now.”

Irene sighed with relief and looked to the sky. 

“He’s a bit shaken up, Mrs McManus, but he should be okay.” 

A baby’s cry came from across the room, and the doctor placed her on Mary’s chest, where she cooed and began to feed.

“I don’t suppose you know where my husband, Robert, could be?” Mary asked, fighting fatigue. 

“Robert—” Marty said, paused, and stumbled on his words. “Robert…there was a bloke up at the hospital. Robert—”

Marty looked down and to the side, shuffling the weight of his heavy frame awkwardly . The sun had begun to peek through the clouds as they parted and the wind died down. Silty mud covered everything the river had touched as it had overfilled the gully that ran through the town. Street signs and pieces of tin roofs littered the ground. Near the gully a yellow warning sign indicating a sharp turn had been pulled right out of the ground by the fast-flowing water so that any car that had approached without knowledge of the streets would not know to slow down. 

“There was an accident. A car. Went into the gully near the police station. I’m so sorry.”