The waves broke onto the beach not far away. Dawn was breaking and there was light in the east. The women were still naked. The cheap burlap skirts they had been given on board had been washed away in the storm. They had not eaten in days. The children wanted food but the women just sat there in the sand, beside a dune, and stared at the ocean, waiting for another day in which they had no idea what might happen. Could another ship come to take them home, take them back to Africa? Death was everywhere. Nalla had seen so much of it she wondered if she might now be dead too. Finally dead and finished with this nightmare, now going home with the spirits to see her husband and little boy.

Lovely read slowly and pronounced her words clearly, as if she had done it before. The crowd was silent, and mesmerized. Mercer watched from the side of the stage and knew she had a tough act to follow.

The men watched and smiled. They were shirtless and barefoot but wore the same odd britches as the white men on the ship. They spoke in a tongue the women did not understand. But the message was clear: You are safe here. You are with your people.

Lovely closed her book, said a polite “Thank you,” and walked away as the crowd stood again. Mercer gave her a hug, then walked, somewhat nervously, to the podium.

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