MAREE WOKE UP with a start. Everywhere was still. Deathly still. She felt hot and sticky so she decided to go outside to look around and cool off at the same time. With a somewhat timid Lucky at her heels, she walked around the shack in the dim light from above.

Her banana trees had been torn down. She picked up a heavy limb of green bananas she'd planned to pick next week. When she straightened herself she looked up and found to her amazement a circular patch of clear sky with signs of early dawn. But only immediately above her. Beyond that, the scatter of a few pale stars disappeared suddenly and ominously.

Maree was not aware of the anatomy of a hurricane. She believed she'd seen the end of it and decided to have a 'look-see', not realizing that she was in the middle of the eye and that worse was yet to come.

It was not an easy walk in the dim light. Everywhere there was something lying in the way: broken branches, torn trees, buckled zinc sheets, all sorts of bits and pieces, twisted and torn from their respective locations. The coconut grove she sometimes used to pass through was partially flattened, there were so many coconut trunks she had to step over. Coconuts lay scattered about on the ground waiting to be taken up by her on her way back maybe. Without really thinking of where she was going, she found herself walking past the outskirts of the village – where she could only get a minor idea of the actual damage done so far, since all the lights were out – toward the seaside. As if her feet were taking her there all by themselves.

The fishing camp.

It was deserted. Most of it wasn't even where it was supposed to be, it had been carried further away from the water and the boats were chained to trees and cement blocks. When she came down to the beach itself she understood why. The water was higher than ever with the tide and the waves, leaving barely a narrow strip of sand and pebbles – no stones – between it and the bushes nearest to shore. The waves struck a sense of alarm in her. They were too high for comfort. Was the storm really over? She was not so sure anymore. She'd better get back home, quickly.

She turned to leave, but then Lucky's yelping caught her attention.

"No, Lucky, we muss go home now."

But the dog was run-dragging toward her and back again, obviously trying to tell her something.

"Okay," she said. Clearly Lucky thought it – whatever it was – was important, so she followed him. She was led to a sprawled form lying face down in the sand, the waves splashing over the body, threatening to pull it back into the sea. She looked around anxiously, but there was no one else in sight, and probably not within hearing distance either. She would have to manage by herself.

It was a small-sized man with hair bleached to various shades of brown by sun and salt water, almost the same colour as his skin. All he wore was a pair of glossily wet pants roughly cut off at the knees. And he lay there unconscious and hurt. She would have to get him away from here before—

Just as she thought so, something clouded over. The clear patch of sky was moving away. Quickly she got his arms over her shoulders, and half carried-dragged him away from the shore.

She only just reached as far as the last fisherman's hut that was still standing, catching her breath, when the winds returned with a vengeance from the opposite direction, the onslaught shoving her and her heavy load headfirst through bamboo doorway onto the sand and pebble floor. The man landed across her, knocking the breath out of her, and Lucky jumped with a yelp to the far end of hut which was just beyond Maree's head. 

For seemingly endless moments she lay there panting, unable to move or react, staring past her shoulder through the doorway as the sky quickly darkened with storm clouds, tree branches tossing violently in the wind with the sound of the sea roaring. The storm was much worse now and for a moment all she could think of was whether her goat and chickens would be safe. They had become invaluable to her.

The heat of the man's skin against her arm eventually made her move. She managed to push herself up to a sitting position onto a piece of board that was lying on the ground, while shifting the stranger over so his head slid down to her lap. Then she pushed her hands into the board to stretch the pain from her spine, before checking on him.

He was alive – thank God for that – but unconscious still. She could feel the shallow breathing movements against her legs. She wondered what she should do with him. This was not a situation she was used to, and she didn't relish it either. A man at that. At least he was unconscious, she thought in a backhanded way. It didn't occur to her that if he'd been conscious he'd more than likely been able to help himself to some extent.

She shifted her position, her bare foot brushing against his thigh, and she cringed, withdrawing her foot from the touch: the pants he wore were unpleasantly cold and slippery, unlike any material she'd ever felt before. Then before she could wonder about it, she jumped – a few bamboos and coconut branches fell in, narrowly missing her. The front end of the hut was groaning precariously, and within moments the entire front caved in, taking half of the thatched roof down with it. Lucky gave a yelp in fright, and Maree felt the man flinch in reaction to some of the construction landing on his legs. 

Lucky pressed against her shoulder, panting, listening wide-eyed to the roaring of the wind and surf, then snuggled closer, pushing his head under her arm with a whimper that she could only sense; every living sound was drowned out by the raging outside, inside – all sides. But they were unharmed. The man did not move again. Maree remained tense, until she realised that nothing more was likely to happen to the hut: the collapsed roof and 'walls' served better now as support to their shelter from the high winds.

Calmed by that thought, she returned her attention to the man in her lap. That is, mostly with every other sense except her ears and eyesight since there was barely light for her to see. He was warm, too warm. She reached forward, passing her hands over his torso, avoiding contact with his burning skin, and she could feel a numbing pain in the right side of her chest as they passed over his ribs.

At least two of his ribs were broken. Every breath he took she could feel the grip tighten on her chest and relax as he exhaled, and subconsciously she adjusted her own breathing to match his. They weren't very deep, she realized. Gingerly she rested her right hand on the middle of his chest, feeling for breath and heartbeat at the same time. She nodded to herself. The injuries were not too serious; he'd have no trouble recovering even if it would take time.

The man stirred and – probably, by the vibration inside his chest – groaned. Then suddenly he made a movement to sit up in alarm, but Maree held him back gently but firmly. 

Be still, she thought. Yu safe 'ere. She didn't say it aloud. It would be waste of breath with all the havoc going on all around them. 

The man seemed to take the hint, relaxing – or maybe he found that it would be less painful that way. Or maybe he'd lost consciousness again, she wasn't sure.

She placed her other hand on his head and closed her eyes, focusing her energy toward his pain, wherever it was. She focused, and as she did she became aware of a difference – something different that she'd never felt in her healing experience before. She was directing her energy into him, but she wasn't just feeling his pain in her ribs, head, hip and ankle as perspiration broke out on her forehead. There was also a different energy that was flowing in erratic bursts back into her – an energy so strong that she snatched her hands away, gasping for breath.

Why was energy reversing into her? She couldn't understand why that should happen. She knew there'd be no answers for her right now and this made her uneasy so she began to withdraw, carefully manoeuvring herself free, wondering, who was this man? It was still too dark to discern his features as he lay there unconscious on the ground. And he was still hurt. 

She felt around a bit and found an old piece of clothing, probably a t-shirt, that she could roll up and place beneath his head. Then she pushed herself into the corner and hugged the dog that was shivering with fear.

Poor Lucky, he couldn't understand why the world around them was behaving so angrily. They spent the next couple of hours of silence – that is, of speechlessness – while the storm continued on its rampage outside: raging, whistling and roaring with spurts of rain water shooting in like mini-arrows from multiple directions through the little square window and leaning 'walls' which consisted mainly of spaces between bamboos. 

Sea water splashed, gushed and flew in with a force stronger than Maree had ever experienced before, riding the fierce winds with skillful intent. In a few minutes, her clothes were soaked with both salt and rain water and the floor of the hut was turning into sandy mud. Luckily she was sitting on a piece of board which was only wide enough to hold her seated. But the man lay stretched out on the ground, partially covered by the remains of the doorway, with only his head raised on the makeshift pillow.

She couldn't let him stay like that; she felt around for a couple of coconut branches and placed them on the ground in front of her. Next she pulled him from under the collapsed structure and onto the branches, then sank down on the board beside his head, pulling Lucky into her lap. 

"Hush, Lucky," she said, but she couldn't hear her own voice. She brought up her knees and held him close and waited.

Maree waited with bated breath as she got wetter; the hut and the trees around them creaked and groaned under the stress of the forceful winds that lifted zink sheets and boards from roofs and fences as if they were dry leaves. Every now and again she placed a hand below the man's chin to make sure he was still stable, issuing short bursts of energy to assist in his healing but not daring to make her usual circuit contact again. After some time she started feeling her head getting dizzy and she leaned back and closed her eyes, her energy spent.

Lucky tried to push himself even closer to her as something heavy thudded on the ground not too far away. But Maree was too tired to open her eyes now. The drowsiness took over, numbing her senses to the storm, and soon she drifted into a fitful sleep.

She remained like that for another hour as the rampant tirade continued into a bleak morning of another world.

—∞—