Catch the Wind: My Journey with Caroline

I tell Caroline stopping at the inn is fine, I suppose, since I already let her think I’m hunting for work. Backing out now isn’t really an option. Secretly, though, I’m hoping the owner isn’t home.

Caroline points across the street to a small, weary-looking house with paint peeling from its boards. A hand-lettered “Lodging” sign is nailed out front. It seems like a lawn once was surrounding the building, but there’s not an inch of space left now.

Wedged against one side of the building is a man hawking tinware out of a canvas tent. A one-room tavern crowds the other side, hardly more than boards nailed together, though rowdy laughter spills into the street. It’s clear plenty of customers are packed inside.

A thin, brown-haired girl, no older than seven or eight, slips free of the crowd on the street. She walks straight to the tavern door, and to my surprise, disappears inside.

I ask Caroline who the girl is and what she could be doing in there.

Caroline shakes her head. She explains that she used to know everyone in town by face, but the war and all the new people have changed all that. Glancing nervously toward the tavern, palms open, she wonders aloud whether we ought to go check on the girl ourselves.

I suggest we ask someone at the inn to handle it instead. The little girl worries me, but so does the thought of stepping inside a tavern.