Sydney and Fanny: The Price of Freedom by Nathalie Rosamond Andrews

Author:Nathalie Rosamond Andrews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: eBookPartnership.com
Published: 2014-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

For approximately five years, Fanny and Sydney continued to cultivate the land in relative silence. They planted, harvested and shared with each other, ensuring that Massa got his share of the produce. Petra was now six years old and had learnt to read and write. Mr. McCallah had already made plans for her education. Fanny hadn’t seen Petra throughout these six years and had an urgent longing to see her. On Sunday 10 th October, she decided to travel to Bacolet to see her daughter. She intended to return home later that evening but was advised by her former friends at the Great House that a storm was expected to hit the island before the morning.

In keeping with the weather conditions, the winds began to strengthen and the rain was pelting down. Fanny had no choice but to remain at the Great House. On Monday 11 th October, 1847, the expected hurricane devastated the island. Twenty-six persons were killed. Thirty-one estate dwelling houses and thirty three sugar factories were flattened, including the one at Bacolet. Four hundred and fifty six labourers’ cottages were razed to the ground and one hundred and seventy six were severely damaged.

At McCallah Hill, Mama Bruce’s house had lost its roof to the howling winds and torrential rain. Sydney was awakened by loud crashes and bangs. He could feel the rain beating down on his half-clothed body, but could only half open his eyes in the blinding gusts of hurricane force winds. Within seconds he was floating in a pool of water. He wondered what was happening to Mama Bruce in her bedroom. Suddenly he heard her shout.

“Sydney, you there? This is like the flood in bible times.”

“It’s more like the end of the world Mama Bruce. I’m floating on the mattress.”

“You won’t go very far,” shouted back a very frightened Mama Bruce as she groped her way to the doorway of Sydney’s room. He caught short glimpses of her through the flashes of lightning in the pitch dark night. The claps of thunder which followed, seem to complete the disintegration of Mama Bruce’s house.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” spluttered Sydney.

“There’s no where to hide,” said Mama Bruce.

“Let’s pray Mama Bruce. The situation is getting worse. I wonder what’s happening to Fanny. Mama Bruce, I’ve got to find Fanny.”

Sydney rushed out into the dark night of thunder, lightning, heavy rain and howling winds to walk to Fanny’s house. When he reached the gully, he was faced with a very wide expanse of water with the sound of huge boulders crashing against each other on what was once the river bank. The fast flowing torrent was thundering its way to the sea. It was impossible for Sydney to cross over to his land, so he decided to return to Mama Bruce’s roofless house.

“Mama Bruce, Mama Bruce, where are you?”

There was no reply.

A flash of lightning immediately filled the sky revealing a pile of rubble where Mama Bruce’s house stood less than an hour ago. The yard looked like a huge pond with dead goats, sheep and fowls floating in it.

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