Crossing Oceans (roxtrox7 and DevonArch)

Clodagh Hogan was lucky to have made it across the Atlantic in more ways than one. It had taken years for her family years to save up the money to buy the golden ticket to a new world, to a new easy life. Hundreds of years, through war and famine her ancestors managed to make it through. Her mother and father had sold the old farm and bought three tickets, one for each of them and their only child. Yet through all the trials her family had gone through what killed her parents was a stomach virus which ran rampant throughout the ship. Only the young and strong fought off the illness, other who were older, like her parents, were not strong enough to fight the disease.

The now orphaned girl stood on the deck of the vessel. The dead who had not been thrown overboard were storage in the hull of the ship. Clodagh needed to get away from the death. Her parents never made it into American waters. They along with others who would be able to afford burial in the new country buried them at sea. That was behind her now. Her green eyes took in the skyline of the incoming city, the land of opportunity awaited her. She had her family’s savings and a hard working attitude. If anyone could make it in this new land it was Clodagh, at least that was what she kept telling herself.

The ship came to dock and she, along with the other passengers were quickly in the immigration office filling out paperwork and receiving a checkup. Clodagh was still young, nineteen, and was able to pass her tests with little issue. Things went smoothly until she was required to pay a fee to enter the country. “Excuse me, but I paid for my ticket already.”

The man behind the counter at the office had a fat nose and beady eyes. He looked down into the girls pale green eyes without any hint of emotion. “You have to pay for the paperwork.”

Clodagh pushed a piece of curly auburn hair behind her ear and frowned. “But that’s all the money I have.”

“Then you will have to get a job just like everyone else.” She handed over her savings, her confidence dwindling. She and the other new immigrants boarded a second ship which ferried them to New York City.

Taking her first step into a different country did not excite Clodagh. The tall buildings and bustling roadways were nothing like the countryside in Ireland. She examined the unfamiliar faces around her. Other passengers were being met by relatives who were already in the country. Others at were at the peer to try and sell trinkets and snacks to the newly arrived. It was all too much. Clodagh began to walk away, farther down to a less busy area of peer to get away. She leaned against the side of a warehouse looking down at her worn brown boots. The redhead was at a complete loss of what to do. She felt so small, so insignificant. She was truly alone here in the land of opportunity.

"It's your birthday tomorrow, isn't it?"

David Brighton looked up from his work and wiped his brow with his forearm. Sweat made wood shavings cling almost comically to the skin of his forehead. "Sure is, sir...twenty-one!" he answered with a nod, sounding more enthusiastic than he really was. The truth was that he hadn't been excited for a birthday since his thirteenth...the year his parents died. He had no plans for the day, no one to celebrate with other than the aging Mr. Westbrook.

"Don't all me sir, David. I'm your friend. After all these years, I wish you'd see that you don't have to call me Sir any more!" Mr. Westbrook laughed, but quickly turned serious. "I'd like to give you something this year." Stuffing a hand into the pocket of his overalls, he stepped around and stood facing David across his work bench. He held up a key, dangled it between his thumb and finger and let it drop with a chime onto the table. "I'm sure you saw this coming. We've had a wildly successful year. Good enough for me to move out of that drafty apartment above us and into my own house." He looked up at the cieling, and a smile cracked his stone expression. "It's all yours, if you want it...a thank you for all the work you've put in here as my apprentice, helping me build this from a humble carpentry shop to the successful business it is today." David didn't protest, and for the first time in what felt like years, the smile on his face was genuine.
...

The cool breeze from the water tossed David's sandy blonde hair in front of his deep blue eyes. With a quick flick of his head, he cleared it away and continued scanning the faces of the new arrivals, stepping wide-eyed from the ferry. He loved spending sunny days on the piers, listening to the new languages and exotic accents of the new immigrants as they took their first look at the vibrant city, eyes full of hope and wonder. It had an odd way of comforting him, the way their excitement always carries with it hints of anxiety, sometimes even fear. He would look from one set of eyes to the next and smile to himself as he easily picked out the emotion in them. 'Excitement...fear...awe...excitement...fear...' he said in his head.

A girl stepped off the ramp alone, and his heart broke the second he saw her bright green eyes. There was no excitement in them, and surprisingly, no fear. They looked lost and lonely and beautiful. David scooted to the edge of the crate he was sitting on and watched the girl more closely. He waited for her eyes to brighten when she spotted her family, then run to join them. But it never happened. He stood and watched her wander away, alone, toward the warehouse at the other end of the pier. Something wasn't right, he thought. He knew what it was like to be alone, and he recognized that sadness in the way she walked as if she didn't know where to go.

The soles of his shoes knocked quietly against the wooden planks as he approached her. David didn't know what he was doing...it was so unlike him to approach a stranger, but something about this girl drew him in. He still had that feeling in his chest, like he had stepped wrong and missed the bottom stair and still wasn't over the shock of almost falling. "Excuse me..." he said in a soft voice, stopping just a few steps behind her. "Can I help you find someone?" His voice was kind, and it was obvious that he was concerned, taking one tentative step closer.

Clodagh did not hear the approaching footsteps, too lost in her own thoughts. Her family’s new start had ended before they reached their destination. She had no money and nowhere to go. Maybe if she could find a church, but she had heard that America was not Catholic like Ireland. That in America all different people and religions mixed together. While that sounded alright Clodagh was not so sure that meant finding a Catholic church was going to be easy. Still looking for one would be better than stay by the pier.

When the man spoke the girl stiffened, more out of shock than fear. She had not expected anyone to approach her, not here away from the bustle of the newly docked ship. Turning her head she got a good look at the stranger. His light hair and blue eyes seemed so foreign, not that anyone back home had the same colorings but in this new land it was different, as if meeting a native tribesman in the heart of Africa.

“You startled me.” Clodagh stepped away from the wall and faced the stranger. His face showed concern and perhaps even pity. The girl blushed, she hated to appear weak. Still the man seemed genuinely worried about her situation, perhaps he would be able to give her a little direction. “There’s no one in this country waiting for me.” She glanced out at the ocean, back to her home in Ireland. “I don’t suppose you could help me find a church. A Catholic one.” She added.

David took a half step back when the girl stiffened. When she turned to face him, he felt one corner of his lips tighten in a subtle, nervous half smile. Even with that heartbreaking look in her eyes, she was breathtaking. The little smile vanished, and he was silent for a moment when she said she had no one waiting for her. His mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but closed again before asking if she came alone. He remembered how the last ferry to come every day never bore passengers, but simple wooden caskets. That was when he recognized the look of loss in her eyes.

He nodded silently when she asked about a church. They were being built all over the city. David hadn't attended one in years, but had been inside a few to deliver new pews or pulpits he had helped build. He tried to remember which of the old churches had commissioned the pews with Celtic crosses carved into the end of every arm rest, then nodded again. "St. Peter's." he said almost as if talking to himself while his eyes wandered with her's out over the water.

Standing up straight again, he cleared his throat, nodded again, and said more clearly, "St. Peters...in Manhattan. It's not far from here. I can walk with you if you like." His eyes watched her's hopefully. David had wanted to help the girl from the moment he first noticed how alone she looked, but now he was filled with an unshakable feeling, like he would stop at nothing to see her smile.

“St. Peter’s.” The relief in her voice was more than noticeable. Perhaps thing were not quite as grim as they seemed. She gave the tiniest smile to her savior. Suddenly she was no longer alone in this enormous country. Even if it was just this one person for the length of the walk to the church she was no longer alone.

“Thank you so much.” She smoothed the back of her long brown skirt. “I would be such a big help if you would show me the way. I’m afraid I don’t know anything yet. I’ve only just arrived.” Clodagh gestured back to the ship which was now making its way back out into open waters. “My name’s Clodagh Hogan. I’m so glad I’ve met you.” The light dusting of freckles on her cheeks shifted as she smiled a bit wider.

David glanced out at the silhouette of the enormous ship as it steered away. When Clodagh smiled, he couldn't help but do the same. "Clodagh." he repeated her name, as if testing to see if it felt as nice to say it as it did to hear her say it. "I'm David Brighton...and very glad to have met you, too." he said, his eyes creasing at the corners when her wider smile made his grow with it. "Seems maybe you had someone in this country waiting for you after all."

When they started, David's free afternoons at the pier were nothing more than a way to pass the time. More and more, though, he had started to feel that someone would step off the ferry looking for him...some long lost family member he knew nothing of, or a friend of his dead parents. He had only just hinted it, but as he listened to the way the girl made the Irish accent sound delicate and sweet, he felt more and more that Clodagh was that person. "Do you have any belongings? Any luggage I can help you with?" he asked as he offered his hand, ready to guide her on the first steps into her new life.