Frances: A Hurricane Story by Professor Joann Brown

She awoke to find herself in an unfamiliar place. Then the memories began: her father mangled and bleeding on the earthen floor of the hut, her mother screening and struggling against the strange pale men with the unfamiliar smell. She was paralyzed with grief and fear. From her hiding place, she could not see the rest of her family and, in some distant corner of her mind, wondered where they were. Outside, in the village, she could hear the cries of men, women and children along with shouts in a language that she did not recognize. When these strange men found her, rough, brutal hands lifted her, forcing her through her village and through the thick vegetation for what seemed like miles. She moved in a haze penetrated occasionally by the call of a bird or the sweet smell of flowers and fertile earth. Days later, she was pushed on the ship and bound to others like herself.

Frightened beyond anything she had felt before, hungry, exhausted, and alone, she had not made any sound or put up much resistance, her mind seemed unable to grasp the reality of what was happening. This had to be a nightmare from which she would soon awaken to smell of home and the chatter of her little sisters.

But she did not awake up. Against her will, the nightmare continued. She and the others were placed in the hole of the awful smelling ship. Days after, when they were far away from land, she and some of the other young girls were returned to the deck for the pleasure of the crew. She cringed from their grabbing, prodding hands, but she could not escape their use of her body, she who had been cared for and loved. She who had been soon-to-be-wife.

Unable to escape, she allowed the haze to thicken until she no longer cared what became of her. They tried to force her to eat. And finally seeing that she would not survive, threw her overboard. The water brought relief and further forgetting.

What awakened her she did not know, but the haze had gone. Almost immediately, she felt the searing pain of loss, the anger, and humiliation of remembering. Where was she? Where were they? When she looked about she saw no form-not from herself or anyone or thing else. That is when she released it. The mournful howl began deep within her. With it came an anger like none she had ever felt. The force of these emotions shook the blackness. As she raged, she felt herself propelled upward, thrust toward what appeared to be light. The surge of pain came again and she bent under its weight, then lashed out in an attempt to escape it. That is when she broke the surface of the water.

Blind with fury, she moved in ways that caused the water to feel her emotion, so it began to churn, rise and fall, as it whispered to her its sympathy and support. The wind, which recognized her pain, wound itself around her emotion and blew with a force that ripped and tore at anything in its path. Seeing her sorrow, the rain offered itself to her and became her tears. Together they moved across the ocean united in this frenzy of emotions.

She was unaware of how long she traveled, for, aided by her companions water, wind, and rain; she had given herself totally to this expression. In the midst of her demonstration, she became aware of others, so she moved in place while she listened intently. She needed to hear these voices. Slowly she recognized their emotions which mirrored her own. When they joined her, the many voices became one. Yet each had full expression within the rise and fall of the elements. Each told of his or her sorrow, pain and anger. She moved more slowly now, having grown quite large – pregnant with the emotions of thousands of souls, who until now, could not make themselves heard or felt.

Later still other voices came into her. These confused her. They were not like the others. She heard no anger, no lose. These voices sought her for different reasons. There was joy in their expression. They begged her to come to them so that they could experience her, or profit from the damage she surely would bring. Still other voices beseeched her to move away. They did not want to be harmed or destroyed. These voices confused her even more. She had not known that she caused chaos and death. She continued.

Sometime during her manifestations, she felt the rage lessen. It was replaced by grief, which turned to sadness. She felt lighter, less weighted by the emotions she carried. The water calmed; the wind, which had become much gentler, whispered soothing sounds, and the rain ceased. She felt herself and the others release; she was empty.

Moments later, she became aware of something moving toward her. It appeared small, yet she sensed it was strong, confident and self-aware. Its presence was bringing her peace. She began to feel safe and comforted.

As it approached, it grew large and radiant – a brilliant white light that contained within it all colors whose many hues played across the water. Now the wind carried a gentle, soothing voice that spoke to her and all the others. This loving presence reminded her of something beyond the pain, an emotion far greater and deeper. She and the others allowed this wondrous light to embrace them. As it touched each of them, remembrance came. This time the rain expressed tears of joy; the water washed them clean, and the wind carried away the last of their pain and sorrow.

What waited for her and all of the others to remember, what waited beyond the pain was love. She felt a gentle pull as if unseen hands reached out for them. Suddenly they experienced a deep longing to go home. Home! After she thanked each of the elements, she and the others felt themselves enfolded as if in a lovely blanket of light. With a sigh, they completely relaxed and let go. They were in the arms of love, and they were going home.