Catch the Wind: My Journey with Caroline

I yell at Caroline that we should go below. Darting for the nearest hatchway, Caroline tells me to follow her. My legs are shaking too hard for anything more than a scramble after her. I trip on the steep ladder, landing in a heap and slamming my elbow hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Nearly tripping over me, a sailor rounds the corner and bellows for me to clear out before shoving past. I press myself flat against the passageway wall as he barrels through. Right on his heels comes a second sailor, muttering that first the boy went missing and now there are girls underfoot, too. Caroline mumbles an apology, but they’re already gone, pounding up the stairs.

Too rattled to trust my own ears, I ask if he really said a boy had gone missing. Caroline’s face turns stricken as she turns toward me. She explains that he must mean the powder monkey, the boy whose job is carrying ammunition to the guns. Another boom rattles the entire ship, and somewhere above us, men shout orders.

Reasoning that the gun crews will be stuck running their own powder without him, Caroline decides that since he’s nowhere on deck, we should search for him. My voice shakes as badly as the ship does, but I agree, and she grabs hold of my hand.

Below deck, there aren’t many places to search. Caroline pulls me into a cramped kitchen crammed with a stove and table, wooden dishes wedged behind railings, kettles swaying overhead. Before I can even say nobody could hide in this small place, Caroline presses a finger to her lips.

Shouting and another boom are all I hear for a moment, until a small hiccuping sniffle cuts through it. Caroline tips her head toward a stack of crates that looks a little off, and we creep over to peek behind them. A boy sits there with his knees pulled to his chest, his eyes going wide with alarm the instant he spots us.

Caroline gently tells him there’s nothing to be scared of, and I add that being scared of cannon fire is pretty reasonable, actually. When I ask him his name, he whispers “Zeke.” He blinks back tears and swipes his nose on his sleeve before pushing himself up. He admits he’s supposed to be helping the men, but once the firing started, he ended up hiding instead.

I can’t help wondering whether he’ll get in trouble for hiding. The poor kid already looks terrified. Caroline asks if this is his first real battle. Zeke drags one bare toe across the floor, admitting that it is, even after all their practicing.

Gripping his arm, Caroline tells him it’s not too late to make things right, then asks where he’s supposed to be. Caroline pulls Zeke out from behind the crates and he hurries off out of the kitchen. From there he leads us down a passage into a wide open space and points to a corner where blankets hang from the ceiling.

Zeke explains that they soak the blankets and hang them around the powder supply to keep stray sparks from setting it off. Just imagining our own gunpowder exploding out from under us is enough to turn my knees to pudding.