Young Writers Society

Siobhan Waters could not believe what she was seeing as she sat in the Glouster bar. The storm outside has escalated in size and danger from a simple rainstorm to a fullfledged hurricane. The weather channel would frequently cut to reporters on sight from Glouster to other parts of the New England coast. If only one of them could give them information about her family. The ones who were out there in that storm battling the elements. They were calling this storm Grace. Odd name for a storm, thought Siobhan as she gripped the edge of the bar where she sat. Around her were other members of the town of Glouster, Massachusetts. Most of whom were either friends with or related to the men on the ships out there.

"This town has seen too many deaths to allow for anymore," said Laura Sanders, a 35 year old woman who had lost her father, brother, and husband in previous years.

"Surely they knew about this going in," said Jack Holcomb, a newcomer to town. "I mean, don't they have weather reports that they get on the boats?"

At his question, Siobhan had to fight the urge to punch him in the face. Of course they had weather reports sent to them every day! This was not like it was in the days before sattelite communications were available. A hand was suddenly placed on her shoulder as if the owner of the hand could sense her frustration and worry. Turning, she saw it belonged to Mike Brooks, one of her oldest and closest friends. He was one of the ones who had gone with Siobhan to try to convince the men not to go out one last time, that it was too late in the season, that if any of them needed help it would be given without the expectation of having it be repaid. But the mind and sense of honor of a fisherman is different from other New Englanders, and both of them knew that going into it.

"Sibby, we haven't heard anything from them yet," Mike reminded her.

"But we have heard that others are missing and that the Coast Guard is doing there best," said Siobhan, knowing that her last phrase carried weight. Whenever the news said that the Coast Guard was doing there best, it usually meant that something had either gone wrong or that they were over run with people who they had to rescue. This she had learned from her younger brother who was currently in training to be a Coast Guardsman. Thank God they did not send newbies out there, she thought. The TV flickered as the lights did, and a roar of frustration escaped Siobhan's mouth and added itself to the noises of frustration made by other bar patrons.

"Fucking piece of junk," spat Randy, who was also a fisherman in for the season.

"You shut your goddam mouth, Hocks," said Hal, the barman. "If you don't like it, you can just get you're sorry ass out of here."

This comment was followed by comments of approval an support from other bar patrons. That shut Randy up faster than shoving food in his mouth, which he frequently did when he came here in order to avoid talking to others while he was here. Randy was one of those people who would frequently boast of his good fortune to others even when they wanted him to shut up and go away. He could have been at sea for six months and come home with nothing more than pet-store quality fish, like a goldfish, and God help the poor bastard who did not give him the time of day.

"How dare you-" Randy began before Siobhan interupted him.

"Look, fat ass, we've had enough of your goddam 'higher than thou' attitude. Either get your act straight, or shut the fuck up."

The bar errupted with spatters of applause and whoops of approval as Randy looked at her with disproval written all over his face. Siobhan reciprocated by giving him a look that would bring a grown man to his knees. If he wanted to fight her, like he did with other men who would speak to him like that, she was ready. Growing up as the only daughter among four other brothers in a fisherman's household had toughened her up, and she would frequently get in trouble when she was a schoolgirl for fighting with the other boys in her classes.

"Hey, shut up, they just mentioned something on the news!" said Hal. Everyone's attention shifted back to the TV as it flickered to sattelite pictures of the storm.

"-information that a Glouster ship called the Andrea Gail is also among the missing ships as reported by Captain Greenlaw, who was the last known person who spoke to them and who called in the Coast Guard to go after them. Greenlaw and her crew are safely heading for port in Glouster, Massachusetts while Coast Guardsmen are heading after the Andrea Gail as we speak."

Silence descended upon the bar like a suffocating pillow that had the potential to smother all of those in the bar. Siobhan pulled the flannel jacket around her as if doing so could help hold her together when she just wanted to fall apart. Greenlaw was a good friend to both her and the captain of the Andrea Gail, her uncle. She knew all of the crew members on both ships because of her father and two older brothers who were also fisherman. Although she was not a religious person, she thanked God at that moment that her family was safe and that they had not lost anyone.

A small but sharp intake of breath escaped Christina Cotter who was dating one of the crew members of the Andrea Gail. Everyone in the bar had been affected in some way by the loss of a sailor of fisherman over the years, but everytime storm season came around it was always a surprise to see who would not come walking through the doors of the bar again. Whose ships would never come back. Whose families were left without fathers, brothers, husbands, cousins, uncles, and the list went on and on. Siobhan, at the sound of Christina's small cry, went over to her and took the seat next to her. Although she did not know her very well, Siobhan knew that it was helpful to have someone just sitting next to you when going through something like this.

As the news continued to play, the patrons of the bar just sat in horrified shock and silence, not wanting to take their eyes from the screen incase they missed something. The scene looked so familiar to Siobhan, who was used to coming here to watch football games in the wintertime, hoping to catch a glimpse of her other younger brother who played football for Georgetown, the same college she had dropped out of two years ago after two years of school.

The door was suddenly thrown open as Sandy Sherman walked in soaked to the skin looking as though she had walked the whole way there. Sandy's husband ran the lighthouse, which had to be kept running 24/7 for the sailors, and he was usually the first to hear knews of any of the ships out at sea. As the door slammed shut against the torrential rain and wind, some of the patrons looked around, and when they saw her started bombarding her with questions.

"Has Bill heard anything about-"

"Is it true that Greenhill is okay and-"

"Where is the Andrea-"

"STOP!" Sandy shouted bringing everyone's attention on her. Even Siobhan and Christina turned to look at her, and when Sandy looked over at them, something changed about her expression telling them that something was seriously wrong.

"We've managed to get in touch with Greenhill, Thompson, Harding, and Coalwood. They are okay and heading to safer ports south of the storm. Coalwood's ship was pretty badly beaten, but they'll be okay once they make port."

A sigh of relief went up from several of the patrons, but most of them still looked concernedly at Sandy waiting for more news. She knew what it was they wanted to hear, and her delay in telling them the news confirme their worst fear before her mouth was even opened.

"We lost contact with the Andrea Gail two and a half hours ago."

"But that could be from their radio being damaged, couldn't it?" asked Mike hopefully before turning to Hal. "Hey, didn't your brother have that happen to him six months ago?"

"Yeah, and they made it back to port," Hal confirmed.

"But that was different," said Siobhan soberly trying not to extinguish hope. "There wasn't a huge storm outside to damage it. It was an electrical short circuit if I remember correctly."

"What about the Coast Guard?" asked Christina trying to scrounge for some scrap of hope. Sandy sighed.

"We haven't heard anything from them other than their ship is holding up pretty well," said Sandy.

The bar went quiet, and they all knew what they were in for in the next few hours. There would probably be another town funeral for the loss of one of their own again.