BRAT and the Kids of Warriors

by Michael Joseph Lyons

  Jack turned to Alex. “And, as usual, you followed standard operating procedure: Ignore the rule till you get busted.”

  “But once that happened, we had no choice but to back off and go our own ways.”

  Queenie said, “Too bad. Lucky both our dads are commissioned officers. Which means we can get on with the mission.” She looked from Jack to Alex. “So, what’s the game plan?”

  Alex laid out the plan.

  First, they needed flashlights. He suggested they get those from the emergency evacuation kits they’d been shown at the Abandon Ship Station on the first day aboard.

  Second, they needed a big ball of string. They would tie the end of the string to the crank wheel on the inside of the hatch and unwind it as they crawled through the air ducts on their way to the engine room. That way, they wouldn’t get lost in the maze of ducts and could find their way back. But Alex didn’t have a clue where to get any.

  Rabbit was quick to say she’d seen a ginormous ball of string in the galley, near the big ovens, and maybe she could get it from Ernie.

  Third, they needed a change of clothes. The insides of the ducts were covered with a layer of dust and dirt that would get all over them as they crawled through. They didn’t want to execute a successful mission to the engine room, only to get busted over why they were so filthy.

  After going over the plan a few more times, Alex asked, “What d’ya think?”

  It was risky, but it would be their last great adventure on the USS Upshur.

  Queenie spoke for all of them. “Let’s do it.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were back together.

  Rabbit presented the string and grinned. “Ernie handed it right over. Didn’t have to explain a thing.”

  “Mom wasn’t in the cabin, so I didn’t need to explain either,” said Queenie. “Got the stuff out of the bags we packed this morning. Oh, and Alex, I also brought you a set of Jack’s clothes, so yours don’t get dirty, either.”

  “Wow. Good thinking,” said Alex. “Thanks.”

  She smiled smugly. “Told ya you needed me on this mission.”

  Jack and Alex gave each other a “yeah, right” look.

  Alex said, “We barely managed to score these two flashlights. Jack was acting as lookout. I had just finished raiding the second emergency evacuation kit when he waved me off. Two sailors were bearing down on us. I stuffed both flashlights under my shirt and quickly walked in the other direction.” He turned to Jack. “You tell the rest.”

  Jack grimaced. “They smelled something fishy. I tried to distract them by walking right toward them, but it didn’t work. They grabbed me by the collar and wouldn’t let go. They kept demanding to know what we’d been up to. To give Alex more time to get away, I went into my dumb-kid act.”

  Queenie smirked. “Well, that didn’t take much acting.”

  “Piss off, Laura,” Jack snapped at her, thinking, You perpetual pain in my butt.

  “Anyway, Alex, it didn’t take those sailors more than a second to see you’d unzipped a kit. They kept grilling me, demanding to know who you were and what you wanted in that kit. But I kept insisting I didn’t know a thing about ‘that other kid.’ They hauled down the kit that was still half open and stood there trying to figure out what you’d stolen. I was so sure we were busted, but, somehow neither noticed the flashlight was gone. They finally let me go.”

  Alex let out a long exhale. “That was a bit too close for comfort.”

  Jack just shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s over now, so let’s keep going.”

  They decided that since they only had two flashlights, the first person into the tunnel would be Alex, with one of the lights. Then it would be Jack, followed by Rabbit. No one wanted her to be last, fearing she’d somehow get separated. Queenie would have the other light and bring up the rear.

  They changed their clothes in the snack-bar bathrooms, and put their original outfits into a paper bag they’d begged off the lady at the snack counter. They knew that in order not to get busted, they had to show up at their cabins in time for dinner wearing the same clothes they’d left in. It’s spooky how moms can remember little things, like what you wore that morning. If you’ve changed, they immediately know something’s up.

  Following Alex, they made their way into the bowels of the ship. He made a few wrong turns, but eventually managed to find the dead-end corridor with the submarine door in the wall. That round hatch made Alex’s story, and the adventure, seem much more real.

  Alex tugged on the wheel crank. It didn’t budge. “It wasn’t this hard the last time.”

  They tried with Jack pushing up on one side of the wheel while Alex pulled on the other. Even together they couldn’t budge it. Everyone gave it a try, but no go.

  Without explaining why, Queenie marched off.

  Rabbit said, “She’s such a quitter. Let me give it a good jump.”

  Jack and Alex shrugged at each other, and helped Rabbit up onto a lower spoke. She jumped up and down on it, but even that didn’t move the wheel an inch.

  They were sitting with their backs up against the wall when Queenie swaggered back, a big push broom over her shoulder. “I got this from one of the supply closets.”

  They watched as she threaded the handle through the wheel. “Jack, get on the right and pull up on the handle with me. Alex, you and Rabbit get on the left side and push down.”

  They heaved with all their strength. The wheel started turning with a screech.

  And their luck held, because the broom handle didn’t break. Once they’d turned it a quarter of a crank, they were able to remove the broom. From there, Jack and Alex got it open.

  Jack and Alex locked eyes, knowing this was it.

  Alex’s flashlight revealed a square air duct. He crawled in on his hands and knees. Jack placed the bag of clothes against the right wall of the shaft while Queenie unscrewed the broom from its handle to fit it inside. Then Jack climbed in. Both boys moved far enough along the shaft to let in Rabbit and Queenie. Once inside, Queenie flipped on her flashlight and tied one end of the string to the inside crank.

  As she was closing the door, Jack whispered, “Only give the wheel a small turn, so it’s easy to open when we get back.”

  They crawled along the duct. The flat bottom made things pretty easy, but the thinness of the metal meant moving too fast, or putting their hands or knees down too hard, made the metal reverberate loudly.

  “Spread out a little,” whispered Jack, “so we don’t put so much weight on the same spot.” After that, there was a lot less noise from the metal.

  A few minutes later, Alex waved his light behind him to signal the others to stop. In a low voice, he said, “Okay, I’m at the first turn. Everyone go to the right.”

  Soon after they made the turn, they could hear the unmistakable sound of pistons pumping. It had to be the engine room.

  Queenie had barely gotten beyond that first corner when Jack called softly back to her, “You still got the string?”

  “Yup, still got it,” she whispered back.

  It was dark in the shaft, but Jack and Rabbit, who had no flashlights, could see Alex’s light continually waving around up ahead. They just kept following that light. Even though he couldn’t see much, Jack felt the dust and dirt on the floor of the shaft. It was getting thicker. Alex had been right; the further they went, the dirtier it got and the dirtier their clothes must be getting. Jack didn’t care. This was the most important and complex mission he’d ever undertaken.

  Alex made three more turns. With each one, the engine noise got louder. Then, without warning, he shut off his light and froze in place.

  Jack inched close to him. “What’s up?”

  Alex made a quiet shushing sound. Jack’s brat-radar started whirling. He could sense there might be a real problem.

  From behind came a loud, “He
y, what’s going on, guys?”

  Jack’s first instinct was to obliterate Rabbit and her big mouth. Instead, he carefully backed up a bit, snapped his head around, and using maximum effort at self-control, he barely breathed, “I don’t know, but be totally silent until I find out.”

  “Okay, big brother,” she said, perfectly delighted with herself and the situation.

  Jack was crawling forward when Alex backed up to meet him. “Tell Queenie to turn off her light.”

  Jack squeezed his leg to indicate he’d heard. Then he went back to Rabbit and told her to whisper to Queenie to kill her light. Somehow Queenie understood, because before Rabbit could say anything, her light went out. They couldn’t even see themselves.

  Alex hardly whispered, but they all heard: “Beyond the next curve, a small window-sized return vent looks into a room. Probably high up in a wall. I saw a couple of snipes down there.”

  “Spies?” demanded Rabbit in her usual Rabbit voice.

  Jack wished she could see his death glare.

  Alex said, “Be quiet, or go back. Not spies—snipes. Navy-speak for machinist. Room might be machine shop. They’ll see our flashlights. They stay off.”

  Queenie’s answer was hushed but urgent. “Let’s—go—back.”

  “You can go and take Rabbit,” Jack suggested, in a rather too-obvious attempt to be rid of her. “Alex and I can go on.”

  “You come back, too,” Queenie insisted.

  “Might be bad guys,” Alex said, ignoring her. “Can’t tell. No uniforms.”

  “You are so full of it, Alex,” hissed Queenie, with alarm in her voice.

  But Jack, full of both terror and excitement, ignored her. He and Alex crawled forward. Jack was disappointed when the girls followed. Queenie may have forced him into letting her come with them, but she wasn’t going to control what they did on this mission.

  When they rounded the next corner, they saw a wide stream of light shine in through the big return air vent. Alex worked his way up to it and cautiously peered down into the room. Then he slipped beyond the opening so Jack could come forward to look. Facing away from the vent stood a guy at a workbench. He had on dark work pants, perhaps Navy-issue. But, on top, he had a grungy undershirt, some kind of black rubber apron covering his front, and dark goggles over his eyes. Those were definitely not standard Navy-issue. The guy was working a large piece of metal on a grinding wheel, sparks flying everywhere.

  Eventually, Jack slipped by, and they both moved farther along the vent. Alex stopped and turned toward Jack, stretching his hand, as if to say, “What gives?”

  Jack leaned close to Alex’s ear. “Sabotage?”

  “Hard to tell. They make repair parts there.”

  “Keep going.”

  Not long after, they came upon another big return vent. Alex said, “Four guys playing cards.”

  Jack, leaning against Alex, could hear them joking about the game.

  Then another voice came from somewhere so close it seemed directly below the vent. “Wolfgang, you better get back in there and stoke those fires.” It didn’t sound mean. It was like the guy was messing with him.

  “Flake off, Schwartz,” said a card player. “I’ll get to it soon enough.”

  “Oh, yeah, soon enough. Just like always,” the voice below taunted. “You watch. The chief’ll be back in less than half an hour, and he’ll tear you a new one if those furnaces are burned way down.”

  Alex motioned a “Let’s go.” He inched past the vent.

  Before following, Jack stopped at the grate for a look at the room. Four guys played cards around a square table. The grate was so low he could see their dirty undershirts and the black grime on their hands. Only then did he realize what a chance they were taking. Anyone might have looked up and spotted him staring down. But none of them did. Based on what they were wearing, he couldn’t tell if they were sailors or not. Jack carefully crawled past the opening and into the dark shaft beyond. Without using any lights, they just kept going deeper into the shaft. As before, Jack noted the girls were following. Even Rabbit was quiet for once.

  Once they could no longer hear the card players, Alex said in a low voice, “Ironheads.”

  “What?” whispered Jack.

  “Navy engine-room workers.”

  “Is Wolfgang messing with the ship, or is he just lazy?”

  “Can’t tell. Suspicious. Let’s keep going.”

  Alex came to another dead end, but this time the shaft only turned left. As they approached the corner, the engine room sounds grew so loud, they seemed to rattle the air shaft. When Jack followed Alex around the corner, he saw a faint light ahead. The shaft was coming to an end right at another big air return duct. But this time, there wasn’t much light coming in. Alex looked through the opening.

  The smell of grease reached Jack as he inched up to Alex, who said, “We’ve arrived. It’s the engine room.”

  Alex pushed against the grate covering the vent. It easily swung open to the left. He peered down, and then stretching his hand through the opening, he gently tapped something just above it. Seeming satisfied, he turned back to Jack. “There’s a pipe. Not hot. If it holds my weight, I can swing out on it and drop to a catwalk maybe four feet down. Grip my belt. If the catwalk can’t hold me, pull me back in the vent. Got it?”

  Jack wasn’t sure. After all, he hadn’t yet seen the engine room, much less the catwalk. But before he could respond, Alex turned back around and started edging his way through the opening. Jack instinctively grabbed Alex’s belt and crawled forward with him.

  Reaching way out and over his head, Alex was just able to grab the one-inch pipe. He tugged on it, to test if it would hold his weight. It must have seemed okay, because in one athletic motion he pulled his entire body out of the vent and hung there. Unfortunately, he dragged Jack half out of the vent with him. Jack let go of the belt to keep from sailing headfirst into the engine room. There he was, heart pounding like crazy as he slumped halfway out of the vent, with his friend precariously hanging thirty feet above the engine room from a one-inch pipe. Jack eased himself back into the vent. Breathing hard, he knew he couldn’t leave his friend hanging there. He forced himself to reach out and grab Alex by the belt for a second time. He was about to drag him back into the vent when Alex let go, dropping to the catwalk. The motion yanked Jack so hard that there was no holding him back. Jack flew out of the vent, landing on Alex as they both crashed onto the catwalk.

  It took a moment for the boys to realize what had happened. Shaken, Jack carefully crawled off Alex. After sitting there for a few seconds, he cautiously stood, holding tightly to the rails. Alex did the same. They held their breath, waiting to see what would happen. But nothing did. There they were, perched on a catwalk thirty feet above the machine room. Still alive.

  “Close one,” mouthed Jack, heart still racing.

  Alex nodded.

  Jack looked down on a maze of pipes running everywhere. Steam was hissing and occasionally pouring from them. They had landed on a hanging walkway made of crisscrossed grating. It seemed to run the full length of the engine room, but it was hard to tell through the blasts of steam. Jack couldn’t remember a room this big, noisy, or gloomy outside a movie.

  Rabbit stuck her head out of the vent. “Hey! Help me down.”

  Alex moved a little farther along the gangplank, making more room. Jack reached up and pulled her from the vent and onto the catwalk.

  “Cool,” she said, not bothering to hold on.

  Queenie, staring out of the vent, took one look at the situation and said, “Are you guys crazy?”

  Jack nodded a mock-sheepish “yes,” and motioned for her to join them anyway. “Grab that pipe, pull yourself out, and drop.”

  “You are truly nuts.”

  He gave her his best “okay, if you’re too chicken” shrug. But he knew he had
her. She’d never allow herself to come out of this looking less brave than he did.

  She reached for the pipe and pulled herself out. But there she got stuck, looking too terrified to just let go and drop.

  Jack cut her some slack, gesturing that it was only a two-foot drop to the walk. He ended with a thumbs up sign. When nothing changed, he reached up, grabbed her waist, and helped her drop lightly onto the catwalk. He didn’t say anything, and she didn’t either. Some things are best left unsaid between siblings.

  Alex and Rabbit were already halfway across the room. Catching up, Jack realized just how big the engine room was, and how powerful the pistons. Those monsters banged up and down, turning the giant drive shaft which, in turn, spun the propellers and drove the ship forward. The drive shaft must have been two feet thick. As it revolved, the oil that coated it glistened in the low light. The smell of grease and oil was almost overpowering.

  The other day, Jack had thought the Navy officers were just pulling his leg about the ship having 13,500 horsepower. After all, if the most powerful car engines in America were only 500 horsepower, how could a ship’s engine generate 13,500 horsepower? But seeing the engine room in operation, with all that noise and all that steam, Jack became a believer.

  About halfway across the catwalk, a huge blast of steam erupted out of the gloom. It didn’t burn them, but all the same, the hot, wet cloud instantly turned the dust and dirt on their clothes into runny goo. But even covered with slick mud, they kept moving along the catwalk until they’d inched across the entire room and come to a small door in the wall. Alex managed to pull it open. He ducked through and the others followed. The catwalk kept going right across that next room. In the dim light, Jack saw they were at least three stories high inside the boiler room. He could make out six huge, dark contraptions. Next to them was a small mountain of something rough and black.

  Jack leaned over the railing, determined to see despite the near darkness. He shouted, “Boilers that make the steam to drive the engine. Coal for fire.” The noise from the engine room made it seem like a whisper.