Home, the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household. Home used to be the colonies for Ann Russell, a fourteen years old who's never worked a day in her life. Born a year after the Boston Massacre, she's known only the revolution. Her family has remained by the king's side through it all, even when they lost. Her family had supplied military supplies throughout the war, as a reward the king had given them a grant to an island off the shore of Florida.
Ann stands on the edge of her ship, eagerly waiting to see what her new home would be. It's been 6 days since they left Boston and Ann is anxious to feel land again.
Hours later a spot of land comes into view, revealing what would be their new home. The island is surrounded by blue-clear water. The island itself looks as if it's never been touched, trees take up the entirety of the land.
“Where is the house?” Ann asks her mother who has come to stand with her daughter.
The mother's brow creases, “I don't know.”
“Strange,” Ann tells to no one in particular.
“This is your drop!” The captain yells to them from the helm. Two slaves begin to lower a small boat for them to row to shore.
“But where is the port?” Ann asks with a pout.
“There isn't one,” the man replies.
Ann and her mother share a look before her mother responds, “Then we mustn't be in the correct place, sir.”
“I assure you we are,” The captain replies.
Ann and her mother go back to staring at the island before getting into the boats with her brother and father. Their luggage is in the boat with their two slaves. They had expected to buy more slaves when they arrived. As they near the shore the island comes into better view and it is even clearer to see that no one has stepped foot on to the island.
“What is this?” Ann asks in disgust, “There's no house or pathway for heaven's sake!”
“Ma'am, we are just following orders,” the rower tells her kindly.
Ann grumpily crosses her arms, “Well I so hope your orders are wrong.”
They land with a small bump on to the sandy shore
“Goodbye and good luck,” one of the rowers says before the heading towards the ship again.
“Well isn't this a way to repay us for our loyalty!” Ann's father says angrily.
“It isn't fair papa!” Her little brother whines.
“Agreed,” Mother says with a snarl.
Papa takes a deep breath, “We mustn't get ahead of ourselves. Let's travel inward to find the housing.”
“Papa, I can go with you!” Ann says.
“Okay,” Papa nods then turns towards Ann's mother, “Elizabeth please take care of the slaves.”
Ann's mother nods.
“What about me papa?” Ann's brother asks.
“Help mother, okay?”
The little boy nods with a pout, with that Ann and her father set off.
Her father walks straight towards the trees and towards the most clear area, Ann close behind. The two trek through the woods, Ann getting increasingly more annoyed with each bug bite.
“This is pointless,” Ann complains. “There's nothing here!”
Her papa sits on the closest rock, “We can't give up yet. Our new house could be just around the corner.”
Ann scowls, “Fine.”
Ann leads as the trek further and further, sooner or later they reach the other side of the island.
“Let's head back,” her father says quietly. Ann thinks he's about to cry.
Ann nods and they turn around, hardly taking in the beauty of the waves crashing against rock.
They walk back as swiftly as they can, Ann's father muttering curses similar to, “For all the money I've given to the army this is what I get in return!”
They reach the beach their family and slaves are at, a faint trail being created in their tracks.
“Nothing,” Ann's father growls.
“I'm not surprised,” Ann's mother says with a glare. “There aren't any trails besides the ones you've created.”
“What do we do now?” Ann's brother says in tears.
“We survive,” Papa replies.
Months later and one of the Russell family's slaves died from a snake bite that was infected. The family had discovered a food source from the fish, of course the slave would do that while the rest of the family would make mortar from the shells of conch. They later worked next to their last slave to make housing that was only about sixty-four square feet. They continued to make mortar for housing, cook fish for food, and made a well for drinking. The family slowly came to terms with their life and learned how to not just live but thrive.