The Unsinkable Disaster

Prologue

At the time that it had happened, I had been in the library. Sleep had eluded me, although I tried for hours.The library had been dark and empty, and the books towered over me on their shelves like proud soldiers. My thin white nightgown was not very good protection against the biting and frigid wind that flowed into the room. I ignored the cold, and selecting a book at random, cracked it open. The scent of new ink and paper tickled my nostrils. I settled myself into a plush chair and began to read. I became so lost in the story, I hardly felt the cold around my body, wrapping my thin, small frame in a blanket of ice.

If I am to tell this story right, I must start at the very beginning. The day the whole mess began.

We had been eating dinner when my father returned home. He bounded into the room, and although he was a very happy man, his childlike behavior was quite unusual. I, at the young age of fourteen, found this entertaining. I watched as he marched over to my mother, kissing her delicately on her pale cheek. He strode to his chair at the head of our small wooden table and slapped an envelope down, grinning. I leaned over my plate of roast and greens, curious. The envelope was nothing special, just a blank white paper.

“What is it?” Charles, my elder brother by three years, asked. He looked at my father expectantly with his forest green eyes.

" What an excellent question!" my father proclaimed in his loud, booming voice. He made no move to enlighten us.

" Father, please, tell us what it is!" I exclaimed, wanting to know just as bad as my brother.

" All in good time, Helen. Let me at least enjoy my meal first." Father scooped up his fork and began to eat, calmer, but still with a jaunty smile on his face.The rest of the family followed suit, but peeked curious glances at my father from time to time. If he noticed, he ignored us, determined not to tell.

My mother tried to turn our attention away from the matter of the envelope.

" Charles, how was work at the shop today?" her feeble attempt at distracting us just made my eyes turn towards the envelope. I didn't pay any attention as my brother replied. All I could think about was that envelope. Did it contain money? Was it a document of some sort? Could it be a letter from our Aunt Ada? Father was always excited when he got a letter from his sister, back in America.

We had lived in America for the first ten years of my life. I remember it well, and most of those memories were fond ones. My father was a world history professor at New York University, and we lived in a spacious apartment nearby. He got an opportunity to teach world history in France when I was ten. Father had accepted and we moved to a smaller apartment in Cherbourg, where I speak mainly French, except at home. I had become quite fluent, and often visited my French friend, Marie, who lived nearby. We had lived here four years, and I had fond memories of here as well.

Mother jerked me out of my daydream with her sharp words.

" Helen, stop daydreaming and eat your meal!" I obliged, eating quickly, gulping my last few bites of greens. While I was lost in my thoughts, Charles and Mother had finished. Now that I was done, we waited in silence for father. Mother, usually so still, wrung her hands and fidgeted like a small child in her wooden chair. The brown wood squeaked as she moved. Needing to be busy, she began clearing our plates. A brown curl fell from her tightly pinned back hair. Standing at attention behind Father, she quickly snatched his plate away the moment he finished. I could see she was getting impatient.

We all sat on the edge of our chairs, anticipation hung around our shoulders like an old friend. Father reached across the table and slid the envelope in front of him. He stared at it for a moment before he began to speak.

" Today I was offered the opportunity to go back to America."

We all gasped, surprised. We leaned back as one, as if pushed by an invisible force.

" Please, let me finish. As I was saying, I have the opportunity to go back to New York to teach. I will spare you the details, but all you need to know is that I accepted. Yes, we are going back to America." he tore open the envelope's seal and from it drew four ocean liner tickets. He placed them in a neat row in front of him.

I craned my neck to see better. So many questions filled my brain. When do we leave? What is the ship's name? what class will we travel in? They flowed out of my mouth in a fast burst, like water from a pump.

All that father did in response was slide a ticket over in front of me. He gave Mother and Charles a ticket too. Mother's jaw dropped as her eyes scanned the ticket, and she slouched in her chair. Why was she so shocked? Then I saw Charles. His eyes eagerly drank up the inked words, grin growing with every word. Father had a gleam in his eye, and looked ready to laugh. My ticket lay untouched. I looked down, beginning to read. The first thing I saw was "White Star Line" in big letters that stood out on the top of the page. The second thing I saw was the gleaming ship, looking majestic and new even in the picture.

The ship looked familiar, but how, I could not say. I skimmed the rest of the ticket, not all that interested. The last, and probably most important thing I saw was the ship's name. In white lettering, the ticket proudly showed off the ship's name. Titanic! The great unsinkable ship, and we to board on it's first voyage? Titanic! The name swirled and whirled inside of me, consuming my thoughts.

"Titanic!" an awed whisper slipped out of my mouth before I even knew it had.

"The unsinkable ship!" Charles added, just as awed as I. The title made my toes tingle and my hands tremble from excitement. That was, until I saw the class we were traveling. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion, then anger.

" Second class? That must be a mistake! We always travel first!" I exclaimed, then became embarrassed at how stuck-up I sounded. It was obvious Charles had not noticed. He looked at the ticket, then my father, than back to the ticket.

" Father, why are we traveling second class?" Charles said, more respectively than I. Father looked at both of his children, exasperation obvious. My brother and I had always traveled in the comfort of first class, and we were vexed.

" Well, children," Father said. " the first class tickets are much to expensive. They are reserved for the best of the best. We may be very well off, but that is no comparison to the most famous man in world, whom will be traveling first class."

" Father, what will these second class rooms look like?" Charles inquired.

" From what I have heard, they are much like first class on other ships. Possibly better." he replied. " They should be, with the money I'm paying for them!" the last part was more to himself than us. Consoled that we would travel in comfort, I let the numbing excitement wash over me again. An excited tremor ran through me, making me shiver and making bumps appear on my arms.

That night, I lay down on my bed, my curly red hair fanned out on the pillow in a tangle. All evening, my thoughts had been on the Titanic. Now, at night, I daydreamed about my life on the ship, and in America. Would I find a girl my age to be friends with? Would she live nearby in America? Maybe there will be someone who loves to read books, like I do! My thoughts slowly darkened at the edges, becoming fuzzy and gray. I fell away from the world in a black, dreamless sleep.

Chapter One

The next few months had seemed to blur and mix together. I packed what I could fit in two medium sized trunks. I packed dresses, warm clothing, hats, and my most prized possessions, as well as some other trinkets. Mother's blue eyes had been stern when she told me I should not try and pack all my things. I found she was right, but still tried to bring as much as possible.

It was hard parting with the place I had come to know so well. My farewell with Marie the day before was tearful. I was dressed well for my last moments here in Cherbourg. My curly red hair was tamed and pulled up in an updo. The hairdo showed off my deep blue eyes, shining in the sun. I wore a frock the same color as my eyes, a white ribbon wrapped around the high empire waist. The frock reached my ankles and the sleeves went to my elbows. My head stayed bare as to show off the fire on my head. The shoes I wore were my oldest and most comfortable brown button boots. Even so, I found that my feet ached as I stood on the dock where the Titanic would appear.

We had left our home for the last time at noon. It had taken us an hour to get from our apartment to the Cherbourg docks. We hired a man to carry our belongings in a wagon. Father had wanted to get there in plenty of time. He did of course, and we all paid the price. Our feet ached in our shoes, our legs were sore and tired. We took turns sitting on top of our baggage, which was neatly stacked in a chair shape.

The ocean air was so full of salt that it clung to my lips and stung my eyes. I licked my lips, tasting the pure ocean salt. Children yelled and pranced by in wild herds. A breeze blew in from the ocean that tried to grab my hair out of it's pins. Where the wind failed with me, it succeeded with Mother. Her curly brown tresses were coming loose, a few hanging like vines in front of her face.

" It's such a beautiful day today. A beautiful day for a beautiful ship!" Mother chirped from her perch on top of the baggage. I had to agree. I felt giddy from all the excitement, wanting to run and leap like the small children.

" Do you think Father and Charles will be back soon? They've been gone for hours!" I replied. The duo had left a while before to examine the booths for a food or snack of some sort.

" Stop exaggerating! We both know they left just twenty minutes ago." Mother's chirping voice turned sharp and hard as she reprimanded me. She didn't like it when people were not literal.

As if they knew we were talking about them, Charles appeared. Father was still a ways away, it was obvious Charles had been running. His cheeks had a salmon pink tinge to them, making the freckles under his eyes stand out. His brown hair was damp with sweat, and the rush of wind had pulled his hair back. The new hairdo exposed his forehead, usually covered by his locks. Charles smiled, showing off his slightly crooked teeth, much like my own.

" Care for an apple?" his grin was infectious. I found myself with a smile, much like my brother's, spreading across my face.

"Of course," I say, plucking the apple from his grasp, "thank you."

Charles bit into his own apple, juice escaping from his mouth. My apple was a deep red and fit perfectly in my palm. Biting into the apple, the juices exploded into my mouth, so sweet and refreshing. I chewed the piece of apple, letting more juices escape. Swallowing, the juices coated my throat, quenching both my hunger and my thirst.

" Charles, what time is it?" I asked.

" It's half-past three"

Time seemed to be going backwards. With nothing else to do, I began aimlessly strolling. Children passed by me, red-faced and smiling. I looked over my shoulder to look at my family. They were talking among themselves, letting me go off on my own. What was I looking for? I didn't really know for sure. Maybe I can find a companion, a friend for the trip. I bit into my apple.

My steps across the wooden dock tapped as I scanned my eyes back and forth. My eye caught a girl who was small, looking to be my age. She had blonde hair tucked into her hat, a rich brown. Her dress was made of the same color, with shoulder sleeves. She sat on top of three suitcases, looking full to bursting. Was she traveling alone? Of course not, her parents must have left her to watch the luggage.

I stepped closer, clearing my throat. The girl looked at me, squinting in the light. Her skin was very pale, but she was very beautiful. Her face had sharp angles, and her eyes were blue, like mine. She looks like she is French.

" Bonjour! Mon nom est Helen. Quel est votre nom?" I said. " Hello! My name is Helen. What's your name?"

" Bonjour, Helen. Mon nom est Anna." replied the girl. " Hello, Helen. My name is Anna."

" Parlez-vous anglais?"I asked. " Do you speak English?"

" Oui. Yes, I do." Anna demonstrated her English skills.

" Are you boarding the Titanic? Where are your parents?" I questioned.

" Yes, I am, and you as well I assume. My parents are off getting food. What class will you be traveling?" Anna said.

" I am going to be in second class. I heard it's quite nice."

" Me as well! Do you want to be friends during the trip? I haven't seen many girls our age around, at least any interesting ones." Anna was very talkative, and I enjoyed her company.

We spoke about anything and everything. I learned Anna's favorite color was red, like my hair. She learned that mine was blue. I learned that she was going to be moving to the same area as me in New York. My dreams for this trip were already coming true! It would be, as father said " a trip to remember".

An hour had past before Anna's parents returned. At the time, we had been playing with a top that I had put in a drawstring purse in case I got bored. I had spun the top towards Anna when I noticed them.

The mother had blonde hair and pale skin, just like her daughter. She was of average height, and her husband towered over her. He was a giant in comparison. His brown hair was almost hidden by a top hat.The top hat made him look taller, I think he is probably much shorter when he is not wearing it. As they loomed closer, I could see he had the same clear blue eyes as Anna.

They were talking, laughing and enjoying each other's company. Anna's mother swung a cloth sack back and forth next to her, probably food. The father had a spring in his step that reminded me of my own father.

Anna, who had been sitting on the ground by me, got up and ran to her parents. She grabbed her father's hand and tugged him back to where I was waiting.

"Qui est-ce, Anna?" asked her father in a loud voice, fitting for his size. "Who is this?"

She replied, in French, "This is my new friend, Helen."

Turning to me, she said in a hushed voice; "My father speaks little English." I nodded, understanding. I must speak in French to talk to him. I smiled up at him and introduced myself.

" Bonjour, monsieur. Mon nom est Helen. Ravi de vous rencontrer." "Hello, sir. My name is Helen. Nice to meet you."

"Il est un plaisir de vous répondre." he responded. " It's a pleasure to meet you."

Noticing the time, I realized my parents were probably waiting for me to return. Bidding my new friend and her family farewell, I set out in the direction I had come. I had wandered farther than I had expected. My already aching legs began to burn as I walked. Soon enough, I saw the pile of suitcases that marked where my family stood. I quickened my pace, although my legs protested. My brother saw me and marched over to meet me.

" Where were you? We were starting to get worried!"

" I was looking for someone to talk to. I met a girl named Anna. She is very nice, and her family is too." I responded. Charles relaxed some, but was still tense at my wandering off. I fell in step beside him as we walked towards our parents. I looked at my feet, watching my skirts swish around my ankles.

I didn't notice she was there until she grabbed me in an embrace. My mother pressed herself against me and wrapped me in her arms, afraid I would leave again. I had forgotten how worried Mother got when we were by ourselves.

" Mother! Let go! You're hurting me!" I exclaimed, sounding muffled. The weight lifted and I could breathe again. I looked at my mother, guilty I had wandered so far for so long. Her pale cheeks were flooded with a pink tinge.

" Helen! Why did you leave? Where did you go? Are you alright?" she drilled.

" I just went down the dock a bit. I was looking for something to do. I'm fine, better actually, because I made a friend." I eased her worries with answers, knowing better than to complain about her protectiveness. I saw that I was successful, for her shoulders relaxed and tension drained from her face. Her quickened breathing slowed down, calm and steady once more.

" Really, Helen? Tell me about your new friend." her tone was warm and comforting. I recalled our conversation, ending with meeting Anna's parents. By the end of my long recollection, I was thirsty and winded. We had no drinks, so I had to tolerate my thirst.

Turning to Charles once more, I asked the time.

" It's four fifty-eight." Charles proclaimed, looking at his wristwatch. " The ship should be well on her way here by now."

" I hope Titanic comes soon! I feel as if I'm about to fall over!" I stated truthfully. My limbs ached so much, they were almost numb. Father came over, intent on joining the conversation.

" Not to worry children, the unsinkable ship will be here soon!" his words sounded sure and strong. The unsinkable ship Titanic! I thought. How the words sound and look together! On other ocean trips, I never felt as good about them as I felt about the Titanic. How could you not feel good about it? It was an unsinkable ship! There would be no worries on this ship, and everything would run smoothly, just as the advertisements say.

" Helen, I do believe it is your turn to sit. Come, help me down." Mother called, waving me over. I held out my hand for her to grab. She gripped my hand in her own soft one. Using me as balance, she shifted to the edge of the luggage chair and jumped down. Her ruby skirt got caught under her slipper when she landed. Not noticing, she began to walk, only to be impeded by the skirt. She tottered for a moment, almost falling. I watched, smirking, as she righted herself, smoothing her hair and adjusting her skirt. She pranced off to Father, acting as if the incident never happened. I used my strong arms to pull myself up onto the luggage. It was arranged in such a way that I had a place to rest my back and arms, much like a plush armchair. However, it was not soft. I tucked my legs underneath me, giving me a bit of cushioning. How good it felt to sit! My body relaxed for the first time in hours, slumping into the chair. My legs were jelly.

I closed my eyes, partway to conceal the hot sun shining above me, and partway to relish in the crude comfort of this homemade chair. I leaned my head back, resting it on the stack of trunks behind me. I yawned, settling in the chair. When I closed my mouth, the taste of sea winds lingered on my tongue. The powerful booming and woosh of the ocean waves against land was like a lullaby. The caw of the seagulls overhead was a melody when combined with the steady beat the waves made. The sea's song made my eyes heavy with sleep. I didn't bother to fight, I knew it was hopeless. In the back of my mind, I knew I might not see the ship appear in the midst of the ocean, but at that point I was to far gone. Relenting, it seemed as if I was being pulled underwater as I fell asleep.

So it seemed fitting enough when I opened my eyes to find myself underwater. To be more precise, the Atlantic Ocean's floor. Somehow, it was as clear as a sunny day. Also, somehow, I was breathing. The ocean floor's sandy bottom shifted under my feet. It was all peaceful and calm. I was wearing a white slip, like a nightgown. It stuck to my skin at the top, but billowed out at the bottom.

It was quiet here, at the ocean floor. I watched as my hair fanned out in front of my face. Looking around, there were beautiful fish of which I had no name. They were in all colors, all types. The diversity was amazing. The fish swam in schools, tails beating. I moved towards one, only to have it swim away. My movements were sluggish in the water. I pushed off the floor , swimming just above the sandy bank. I noticed a crab scuttling across the sand right below me. Not far off, a lobster was doing the same. I swam away from them, and planting my feet on the ground, almost hit a sharp shell.

All of a sudden, a swarm of fish surrounded me, swimming away. I was caught up in the bluster, confused. Why were they swimming away? The herd of fish knocked me off my feet, but being underwater, I floated.

The fish swam off into the distance. I was alone. Somehow, I had the feeling that I really wasn't alone. I whirled around, as much as I can whirl while underwater. Just behind me, was a shark. It's body was beautiful and elegant, but deadly. It faced me, cold, dark eyes staring. I stayed as still as I could, but I knew it smelled my fear. The shark moved it gills and fins, but remained almost motionless. Quickly, it darted forward, teeth glinting, remnants of it's last meal still stuck in his sharp teeth. I screamed, but all that came out was a burst of bubbles. Reacting quickly, I turned and swam upwards. It sliced through the water after me. Terror made my body work by itself, mechanical. I swam as fast as I could, but to no avail. The shark was catching up. No! My energy was running low. My strokes became less and less powerful. Knowing it was fruitless to run, I stopped. Time slowed down. Water flowed around me. In the vast ocean, I saw no other beings. Just me and the shark. The ocean floor was gone. The sun and sky above was nowhere to be seen.

The shark charged for me. I braced myself, braced myself for death. It's mouth opened wide, I knew it was over. The shark's mouth enclosed my body. I closed my eyes. I expected to feel the agony of the creature's fangs sinking into my flesh, but nothing came. Faint noises suddenly came into existence, getting louder. Was that children yelling?

I cautiously opened my eyes. What I saw was not bloody water, but sun. And land. I was back on the dock. How did that happen? I was laying curled up on top of our trunks. Oh. It was just a dream, nothing to worry about. I will say, it was one of the most peculiar nightmares I ever had. I don't get nightmares often. What could it mean? Was it a bad omen? I felt foolish even acknowledging the notion, and banished the thought. Stretching out my limbs in the seat, I fully awoke. My legs and arms had cramped uncomfortably from being in such a strange position. They ached, but this time in relief, not pain, as I sat up. My hair was beginning to fall out. I pushed the loose pins and hair up again, securing them soundly. When I was once more presentable to public eyes, I hopped lightly down. When my feet landed on the wood with a tap, my family looked this way.

Charles was grinning. " Have a nice nap?" he teased.

" Oh, Charles!" Mother chastised, swatting his arm, also teasing.

" Why's everyone so happy all of a sudden?" I asked.

" We just discovered that Titanic will be here within the hour!" Father replied.

" How long have I been asleep, then?" I said.

" Not that long, dear, just about an hour." said Mother. I did the calculations in my head. It was six o'clock, and the majestic Titanic would be here within the hour. But how long would that be? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Forty-five? Nobody knew for sure.

" I almost forgot!" exclaimed Charles. He pulled another fruit out of his pocket and presented it to me. This time, it was an orange, not an apple. I accepted it out of politeness. My stomach was already full, full of excitement. I stepped forward, towards the edge of the dock. I scanned the horizon, looking for anything closely resembling a ship. All I saw was the sun, lowering into the ocean in an array of pink and gold. Right below my feet, the ocean beat softly on the wooden planks.

I leaned closer, inspecting the murky gray-blue waters. Then, I felt a strong arm with a grip like iron clamp onto my upper arm. Alarmed, I gasped and spun around. The unknown person let go abruptly, making me teeter on unbalanced legs. To my horror, I felt myself falling backwards, towards the ocean. I was powerless to stop it. Once again, I felt those arms, wrapping around my waist, catching me at the last moment.

The arms heaved me up, then held me in a close embrace. I smelled the familiar scent of my brother. Charles. The mysterious man who had grabbed me was no stranger. It was just my brother.

" I'm so sorry, Helen. I had no idea you would react so!" Charles' voice sounded far away, clouded by his shirt. All I did was respond with a nod, one of forgiveness. He understood, and released me. Lowering his voice, he said;" Mother and Father didn't see, thankfully." I glanced back at them, still unaware, still engrossed in their conversation. Good. If they had seen, I would be watched over every second of the trip. I noticed I had lost my orange to the ocean.

After the eventful experience, which had taken all of four minutes, things wound down. Bored once again, I sat on the luggage chair, playing with the chain around my neck. I had had it since I was a baby. It was a long, thin chain that reach mid-chest. Attached to it was a locket that on the front showed an elegant purple flower. Inside was two small pictures of our family, one that depicted a younger Charles and an infant me. The other was a picture of us, taken just a year ago. Normally I tucked it away under my dress, but in my boredom I looked at it, tracing the flower.

The repetitive task entranced my thoughts, blocking out all else. That was, until I heard it. The voice. It was a male voice, but that didn't matter. It was what he said that really counted.

" I see it! There she is!" the man yelled. All went silent for a moment, then chaos ensued. Yells and cries of astonishment followed his words. Men, women and children ran in a frenzy.

" It's here!"

" Finally!"

" Titanic!"

" She's beautiful!"

I ran to the edge of the dock scanning for the ship once more. My family was quick to join me, bouncing on their toes. Then, I saw it. Titanic! It was even more beautiful than I dreamed. I could only imagine the luxury that lurked inside. From my limited ship experience, I could make out the bow, stern, and hull. I saw the famous smokestacks, all four of them. It was approaching, getting closer and closer.

The Titanic had arrived.