The Cay

by Theodore Taylor

my father took me into the Schottegat where they were completing the loading of the S.S. Empire Tern, a big British tanker. She had machine guns fore and aft, one of the few armed ships in the harbor.

setting out on her lonely voyage to England. There, she would help refuel the Royal Air Force.

sailors on the Empire Tern, which was painted a dull white but had rust streaks all over her, waved back at us and held up their fingers in a V-for-victory sign.

The Empire Tern had vanished in a wall of red flames, and black smoke was beginning to boil into the sky.

Conflict

A tug and several small motorboats headed out toward the Tern, but it was useless. Some of the women cried at the sight of her, and I saw men, my father included, with tears in their eyes. It didn’t seem possible that only a few hours before I had been standing on her deck. I was no longer excited about the war; I had begun to understand that it meant death and destruction.

Characterization and growth

That same night, my mother told my father, “I’m taking Phillip back to Norfolk.” I knew she’d made up her mind.

I wondered why he didn’t simply order her to stay. But he wasn’t that kind of a man.

The ships had begun to sail again, defying the submarines. Some were lost. Henrik and I often went down to Punda to watch them go out, hoping that they would be safe.

Then one day in early April, she said, “Your father has finally secured passage for us, so today will be your last day in school here, Phillip. We’ll start packing tomorrow, and on Friday, we leave aboard a ship for Miami. Then we’ll take the train to Norfolk.”

Suddenly, I felt hollow inside. Then I became angry and accused her of being a coward. She told me to go off to school. I said I hated her.

Character growth

She said that we didn’t love her and began to cry.

“Phillip, the decision is made. You’ll leave Friday with your mother.”

In our cabin, which was on the starboard side and opened out to the boat deck, my father said, “Well, you can rest easy, Phillip. The Germans would never waste a torpedo on this old tub.” Yet I saw him looking over the lifeboats. Then he inspected the fire hoses on the boat deck. I knew he was worried.

Foreshadowing

he said good-by to us between clenched teeth. I clung to him for a long time. Finally, he said, “Take good care of your mother.”

It felt as though we’d stopped and were dead in the water.

Simile

My mother was very calm, not at all like she was at home. She talked quietly while she got dressed, telling me to tie my shoes, and be certain to carry my wool sweater, and to put on my leather jacket. Her hands were not shaking. She helped me put on my life jacket, then put hers on, saying, “Now, remember everything that we were told about abandoning ship.”

CC

the steam was hissing out. Heat from the fire washed over us.

metaphor

I saw a huge, very old Negro sitting on the raft near me.

He was ugly. His nose was flat and his face was broad; his head was a mass of wiry gray hair.

Characterization

His voice was rich calypso, soft and musical, the words rubbing off like velvet.

I looked closer at the black man. He was extremely old yet he seemed powerful. Muscles rippled over the ebony of his arms and around his shoulders. His chest was thick and his neck was the size of a small tree trunk. I looked at his hands and feet. The skin was alligatored and cracked, tough from age and walking barefoot on the hot decks of schooners and freighters.

Characterization

powerful.”

his great clamshell hands.

metaphor

“Dis be good, dis be good.”

A and A

helped

powerful

rare good luck,

rare good luck.”

I was thinking about my mother on another boat or raft, not knowing I was all right. I was thinking about my father back in Willemstad.

He said, “Do not be despair, young bahss. Someone will fin’ us. Many schooner go by dis way, an’ dis also be d’ship track to Jamaica, an’ on.”

WW

His back was a great wall of black flesh, and I saw a cruel scar on one shoulder.

metaphor

My father had always taught me to address anyone I took to be an adult as “mister,” but Timothy didn’t seem to be a mister. Besides, he was black.

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“ ’Tis best to ’ave only an outrageous smahl amount. Jus’ enough to wet d’tongue.”

WW

Without answering,

Although I hadn’t thought so before, I was now beginning to believe that my mother was right. She didn’t like them. She didn’t like it when Henrik and I would go down to St. Anna Bay and play near the schooners. But it was always fun. The black people would laugh at us and toss us bananas or papayas. She’d say, when she knew where we’d been, “They are not the same as you, Phillip. They are different and they live differently. That’s the way it must be.”

he didn’t answer.

I was thinking that it was very strange for me, a boy from Virginia, to be lying beside this giant Negro out on the ocean. And I guess maybe Timothy was thinking the same thing.

MM

I knew they’d always lived in their sections of town, and us in ours.

I saw them mostly in the summer, down by the river, fishing or swimming naked, but I didn’t really know any of them. And in Willemstad, I didn’t know them very well either. Henrik van Boven did, though, and he was much easier with them.

Thomas.” He added, “ ’Tis a Virgin Islan’.” “Then you are American,” I said. I remembered from school that we had bought the Virgins from Denmark.

MM

I didn’t know if he was telling the truth or not. He looked pure African.

A and A

I was amazed that any man shouldn’t know his own age. I was almost certain now that Timothy had indeed come from Africa, but I didn’t tell him that. I said, “I’m almost twelve.” I wanted him to know I was almost twelve so that he would stop treating me as though I were half that age.

“What do we have to do?” I asked. His eyes groped through the darkness for mine. He came up on his elbows. “Stay alive, young bahss, dat’s what we ’ave to do.” Soon, it became very cold and I began shivering. Part of it was coldness, but there was also fear. If the raft tipped over, sharks would slash at us, I knew.

WW

Young bahss,

A and A

I was still shivering, and soon he gathered me against him, and Stew Cat came back to be a warm ball against my feet. I could now smell Timothy, tucked up against him. He didn’t smell like my father or my mother. Father always smelled of bay rum, the shaving lotion he used, and Mother smelled of some kind of perfume or cologne. Timothy smelled different and strong, like the black men who worked on the decks of the tankers when they were loading. After a while, I didn’t mind the smell because Timothy’s back was very warm.

MM

I was still shivering, and soon he gathered me against him, and Stew Cat came back to be a warm ball against my feet. I could now smell Timothy, tucked up against him. He didn’t smell like my father or my mother. Father always smelled of bay rum, the shaving lotion he used, and Mother smelled of some kind of perfume or cologne. Timothy smelled different and strong, like the black men who worked on the decks of the tankers when they were loading. After a while, I didn’t mind the smell because Timothy’s back was very warm.

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“Today, young bahss, a schooner will pass. I’d bet a jum on dat.”

A and A

I kept looking at him. It seemed there was a film, a haze, separating us.

Foreshadowing

shelter. The pain in my head was almost unbearable now,

A and A

“What?” His voice was a frightened roar.

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