Through The Storm

I felt the sun break through the layers of trees above me while the wind gently rocked my hammock to the sound of the rustling leaves and waves crashing into the nearby rocks. The smell of fresh moss wrinkled my nose. How I had discovered this spot was a mystery to all, but it was my favorite hiding place. The entrance of my safe haven was exactly 116 meters from the start of the lakeshore path. Each time I climbed down the short drop, I had to use my free hand to comb my way through a spider web. Three steps from the perched rock was the first tree I used to mount my hammock. I imagine that most children would describe its color as brown, but striving aristocrats would eagerly report the tree’s color as a marrying of clay and cedar, exposing the naturalism of a mixed society. If we could all just be more like children…

This would be my last time here before traveling back home. I hadn’t been home since I was born. My conception was a fluke. The result of one too many shots of vodka, a cheap hotel room after prom, and two eager teens. And just like that, I committed my first robbery. Pieces of my parents dreamed success was wrapped and thrown away with each of my diapers. I responded with giggles and bubbles of spit because stealing my parents future placed me in the hall of fame of all burglars; how couldn’t I celebrate? They had had enough of my joy and dragged me to the boat to send me across the waters to the island where I would be the overlooked orphan, Sombre or Bre for short. In the dark, I would create images of my mom based on the tracing of my finger over the delicate parts of my own face. I couldn’t see her though.

I sighed as I heard Ray’s boat approaching. I got out of my hammock and walked until small waves of water washed over my toes. I was usually barefoot because my feet were reliable for warning me of sudden changes in the terrain, keeping me from danger. 

“Bre! Ready to ride first class in the prettiest boat on the water?” Ray chuckled as he cut the engine.

“Even blind, I can see your boat is subpar housing for roaches in the orphanage.” I handed him my suitcase and pointed in the direction where he could find the rest of my luggage.

He groaned, “We’re going to have to leave that stuff here, there’s no space on this boat or back home for all your crap”.

I weighed my options in my head. Keep my baggage and forfeit the procedure that would give me sight or set sail across the ocean with little to nothing.

Ray sensed my hesitation and lugged me onto the boat. “You won’t miss any of that stuff once you are home. Let’s go!

The engine grew louder and my teeth chattered when the wind reminded me I was now on water. I rested my head on my suitcase and braced myself for the life waiting for me at home. 

Ray met me a few years ago, in what most would consider an unfortunate circumstance. I had just finished my last year of high school and I was sitting against the brick wall of the place I called Hell High. My face was tight from the salt of my dried tears. I thought this moment would be filled with more freedom, more joy. But, instead I still felt trapped in the ruins of my classmates' impressions and betrayal. 

 I heard rustling coming from nearby.

“How long have you been standing here?” I buried my face into my knees and hugged my shins.

“Long enough to know you sniffle twice before exhaling deeply. I know you would rather your tears stream down your face than end up on your sleeves.” His voice moved closer, “And long enough to have heard your stomach rumble seven times. Let’s go eat.”

I grabbed his hand and felt years of hard work plastered in his calluses. Before we began walking, he pulled me into his chest where the strength of his heart chambers filled my eardrum. I felt his breath tickle my forehead. His embrace felt familiar and warm. It filled me better than the parts of any of the boys I had invited inside of me. In that moment, I melted to my knees and time passed as the creases in this man’s skin caught each of my tears. 

“I’m Bre” I whispered through hiccups.

“Very nice to meet you Bre, I’m Ray” he laughed.

The wind pulled me out of my dreams and the present moment welcomed me with the rhythm of rain striking the ocean. The darkness of the night wrapped itself around me. Ray had stopped the engine and I felt his body next to me. The boat was no longer moving forward, but it tipped generously from side to side, threatening to submerge us.

“Ray, what’s happening?” terror tore through my body “I thought we weren’t going to hit any storms?”.

The boat tilted 60 degrees and gravity pulled me to the floor of the boat where I slid to the other side. I heard splashing as the boat emptied its contents into the water.

“Ray”, I tried to scream over the howling wind. I couldn’t hear anything. I crawled and scaled the boat screaming for my friend, until all I could do was ball myself up and turn to a corner of the boat. I wept with my face pressed against the floor to allow my tears to mix with the salty water that had begun to fill the boat. I began to softly hum as this makeshift cradle rocked me to sleep. I desperately wanted to dream. To dream of home, of Ray, of the image I made of my mother in my head.

 The boat continued to fill with water but I didn’t move, so small amounts of water burned my nostrils with each inhale. Still, I found myself dreaming and transporting myself to a world where storms didn’t exist. Suddenly, my ears filled with the tune I hummed to myself earlier and I felt myself rise in the air with the tilt of the boat and fall gently into the ocean. My chest tightened as I welcomed the water into my lungs. In the midst of water replacing the air in my lungs, I felt a surge of warmth wrap my body. And the sound of the ocean beat in the rhythm of Ray’s heart. My body went limp and I began to rise.

Her thready pulses tapped lightly against my fingertips. I held her with one arm and used the other arm to steer the boat. I was with her throughout the entire storm. My heart ached as I watched her fight, search for me, and then surrender to the water.

I called out to her to come to me, but she couldn’t hear me over everything else. Or maybe she didn’t recognize the name I called her by. Her original name. Daughter.