Catch the Wind: My Journey with Caroline

Caroline’s garden is much bigger than Mom’s flower beds back home. We spend a while pulling weeds from between the neat rows of carrots, beans, and squash; the straight lines make every weed easy to spot. By the time my fingers ache and my back starts complaining, I’m almost grateful when rain begins sprinkling down from the gray sky.

Just before the sprinkle turns into a real downpour, we race inside and help Mrs. Livingston get supper started. Mrs. Abbott arrives home from the shipyard not long after, and Caroline asks right away whether Lieutenant Woolsey sent any word about the British ship. Did it escape?

Mrs. Abbott admits it did. My stomach drops, and I sink onto a bench. I wonder whether those extra moments spent getting Caroline and me safely off the navy ship made any difference. I can see the same worry cross Caroline’s face, too. Neither of us will ever really know for sure.

Mrs. Abbott won’t let us wallow in it, though. She reminds us that we showed Lieutenant Woolsey the hidden cove, and that knowledge could help him catch a British ship another time. Caroline murmurs that maybe he will, though she doesn’t sound convinced.

I tell Caroline that even I could see what a perfect hiding spot that cove made. Lieutenant Woolsey will for sure be able to capture the next British ship. Caroline’s lips spread into a small smile.

And with that, Mrs. Abbott smiles and announces it’s time to eat.

At this point, the kitchen has filled with steam and the smell of baking bread, boiling fish, and something tangy and vinegary underneath it all. I help Caroline set the table while Mrs. Livingston ladles out whitefish soup, a dish I’ve never tried, though it already smells promising.

Once the four of us gather around the table, Caroline’s black cat, Inkpot, curls up near the fireplace, seemingly content just to have his family together, minus Mr. Abbott.

Careful not to say anything foolish, I mention that Mrs. Abbott must have had a long day at the shipyard. She explains that everyone’s putting in long hours these days, since the navy wants a new gunboat finished as fast as the crew can manage. Caroline adds, proudly, that they’ll get it done.

I spread butter across a thick slice of bread, its underside hard and ashy from the floor of the bake oven. I gently swipe at the bottom of the bread, and then take a bite. It tastes delicious.