The Ship Of Dreams

I was a boy when I first laid eyes on the Titanic. A glorious ship, the size of a floating building. I couldn’t help but agree with the whispers calling it the ship of dreams. The black and while hull and three huge funnels stretching towards the clouds. I was only nine when I boarded the ship on April 10th. My family and I got on in Southampton, England. We were off to New York City where my father had planned on opening his own bookshop. I was accompanied by father John Willits and my older brother Thomas. My mother Eliza and my sister Jane and Olivia were waiting for us in a townhouse my father had purchased a few months earlier. I could taste the salt of the sea water as we waved goodbye to my Uncle George from the deck of the ship. The sky was blue and clear, and all seemed right in the world. We were excited to start our new journey in a new land. We stayed on the deck until land was far from sight. I remember hearing the call of seagulls and watching the water be thrashed to and fro as the ship pressed on. A new life was waiting for me.

That evening we dressed in our finest attire and went to the dining hall for supper. The china had never been touched, the glasses twinkled with cleanliness, and the smell of filet mignon lingered in the air. My mouth water and my stomach roared with hunger. The delectable smells rushed in from the kitchen each time the waitstaff burst through the door. The waiter brought each dish to the table in a timely fashion. First the steak and lobster. Then the creamed corn and potatoes. Grilled asparagus and fresh cut green beans. I gorged myself. Once our appetites were satisfied we followed our father through the hallway and into the smoking room where our father and other esteemed guests shared a brandy and spoke of politics and business. I gleaned at my father in admiration. He was an inspiration, a self made man who nearly broke his back to reach the level of success he had. I was proud to be his son.

As days went on, we explored the marvelous ship. My brother and I even snuck down to third class and joined their frivolous parties. We danced and sang and spun around the floor without a care in the world. We shot spit balls at young ladies who were being coached in proper etiquette by their mothers and giggled when their mother scolded them for breaking character. We skipped along the deck and whistled sea shanties while the gulls above chirped and wailed. We heard soft music playing in the dining hall as we crept outside the window, hoping our father would be too busy with his acquaintances to spot us.

“Where are you boys off to?” he heard as a strong hand clasped the collars of our jackets.

“Just looking for an adventure.” I said with a smile and I peered up at my father. He offered a half-wide smile and nodded his head before letting loose of our coats.

“Be safe boys and find me in an hour.” he replied and went back to converse with his companions.

We frolicked a while longer and made our way back to our first class suite and began to wash for supper. Our father returned a mere twenty minutes after we did.

“How was your adventure boys?” he asked with a grin.

“We had a riot!” I exclaimed. Thomas just snickered and nodded in agreement. He wasn’t much of a talker but he was still my best friend. We did everything together. The hour was near six and we dashed down to the dining hall once more. Sweet, gentle music fluttered in through the halls and the heat from the kitchen warmed the chilly air. The dinner rolls were succulent and soft, the roast was seasoned to perfection and the carrots and potatoes were delectable and cooked to the highest degree of standard. We devoured the roast along with its vegetables and then tore into the exquisite strawberry goat cheese tarts. A parade of fantastic flavors marched across my tongue. We washed the food down with the finest ale on board the ship then once more followed our father to the smoking room so he could chat more with the other men. The hours ticked by and finally our father and his pals said their farewells and we started back towards our room.

Thomas and I tossed a ball back and forth in the living area of our suite. I turned my head to the right and caught a glimpse of the calendar. April fifthteenth, it read. Soon our family will be back together again. I was consumed with excitement. I couldn’t sit still nor could I stop rambling off about how I couldn’t wait to see mother and my sisters again. I wanted to rub it in their faces that I got to come over on the Titanic when they didn’t. Then we felt a disturbing rumble at our feet and heard a metallic groan. I held my breath and stood completely still. What might that have been? I wondered. Finally, I lifted my hand to my head and scraped at my scalp with my fingernails. Dandruff dusted my black coat.

A while later came a ferocious knock at the door. It was the maid who had been assigned to clean our room. She handed us life jackets and asked us to make our way towards the deck of the ship and wait there for further instruction. Father nodded and took the lifejackets from her with a stern, and fearful expression on his face. His eyes had darkened, his smile sunk to frown and one by one he placed a life jacket on each of us then we hustled to the deck of the ship and rustled through the crowds trying to find out what was going on.

When we reached the deck, there were already lifeboats lowered into the Atlantic and we frantically tried to make our way to an empty one when we noticed the ship was angled down and partly underwater. Father took a knee and spoke softly to my brother and I.

“Stay here for just a moment. I will speak with Captain Smith.” True to his father made his way across the deck and began chatting with the Captain. Father’s sadness turned to horror. The color had been erased from his skin and his eyes were wide, glistening with tears. Then he quickly raced back to us and held us both in his arms.

“Are there any more children?” Called Officer Murdoch, and my father pushed us to the front of the gaggle of people.

“Take my boys. They are only eleven and nine. I beg you.” my father pleaded with the sailor. Murdoch and my father each lifted one of us and gently placed us in the lifeboat, a fountain of tears fell from my fathers eyes as he watched us being lowered into the ocean and I buried my face into my brother's chest as he wrapped his arms around me.

As the lifeboat pulled further from the Titanic, the ship began to rise and the screams of the people still aboard flooded the night sky. Then suddenly the ship snapped in half and the stern plummeted back into the water with a thunderous splash. Then it rose once again and began to slowly dive into the Atlantic, Thomas and I sobbed as the lights vanished and the cries of those who went into the water started to fade.

The hours dragged on, the cold air flicked at my nose and bit at my cheeks. My teeth chattered and my body trembled. Snow had formed in the strands on my frozen hair. Finally, a glow in the distance would begin to warm the sky and in the horizon a ship was sailing towards up. We rowed with our aching arms, our eyes drooped from staying awake through the night and as we pulled up along the side of our rescuers we read the words, Carpathia. The staff greeted us with blankets and cocoa. Thomas and I stayed side by side and explored the ship in search of our father. A search that would never end..