Titanic Twelve Tales - A Short Story Anthology RMS Titanic (9 page)

“No! Don’t! Can’t you see? We know nothing about this thing. What if it’s not from a rescue or recovery team? What if things have changed in the world since we last saw it? What if this creature is an alien?”

“Whatever it is, we should tell the others. We must give them a chance to decide what they want to do.”

“There’s no dancing tonight,” Mrs. O’Brien tells her boys, “everyone’s to gather to hear what Harry and Jack have seen above earlier.”

When the stokers have finished explaining, a man asks, “Was it a creature or a machine?”

“We don’t know,” Harry replies, “except it appeared only to be looking, it wasn’t aggressive or violent.”

“Do you think the rescue teams have found us?” a woman asks.

“I think so, I hope so.” Jack bows his head.

“And you Harry? What’s your opinion?” Mrs. O’Brien smiles at him.

Harry acknowledges her gesture with a nod
..
“I don’t know what to think. I hope they’ve found the ship because you all know what that will mean to us.” He pauses, as the crowd cheer loudly.

Jack waves his arms in the air. “Let him speak!” he shouts.

Harry holds his arms above his head and attempts to calm his audience. Eventually, they let him speak. “Friends, everyone who has become part of this undersea world we inhabit, I believe we have been given the opportunity to make the journey across the unknown, to pass on. I do not know why we have been prevented from doing so for so long. When I lived, I was a stoker, firing the engines of this great vessel we all sailed on with good hearts. Many of you know my story and that of my friend Jack – we didn’t get out of our boiler room in time. Those infamous water-tight doors trapped us below. You know what being trapped feels like because we’ve all shared this grave. We have dwelt together, kept the faith because we knew we would be liberated one day. Hope has kept us going. Yes friends, I do believe this is our resurrection day!”

Wild cheers ring out.

“How do we get out?” young Seamus asks.

“With a faithful heart and belief we shall find peace in the next world,” Harry replies. “When the metal creature returns, we shall in turn attach ourselves to the tail and use it as our guide to the ocean surface. There we shall board the rescue ship.”

“But how can we be sure they have come for us?” a man demands.

“Because we always knew they would,” Harry answers. “When the world’s biggest liner goes to the bottom of the ocean on her maiden voyage, man is curious. So much so, he will not rest until he has found out everything he possibly can about why the ‘unsinkable’ ship sank.”

“Will it be cold outside?” Liam asks. Several people around him laugh. Liam hangs his head hiding his face from those who are mocking him.

“I don’t know lad,” Harry says with a shrug. “I wish I could answer all of your questions, but I don’t know.”

Mrs. O’Brien steps forward. “Harry, I believe you have a good heart and you are an honest man. I trust you and my children trust you. If you follow the tail of this creature
believing it will guide us to the surface, then I am more than willing to go with you. My boys can decide for themselves.”

There was no stew the next day for the Third-class souls trapped in
Titanic,
they were too occupied following Harry. One after another he led them to the surface of the Atlantic Ocean where a small ship waited. Silently, they slipped aboard, unknown, unseen by the crew and scientific team who had discovered the famous ship-wreck.

At last, the Third-class souls were free to make their long-awaited journey to the next world.

Graveyard Gang

Fairview Lawn cemetery, Halifax, Canada

“Where are all these people coming from?” Joe asked. “Things used to be peaceful around here, just the odd visitor or two, now there are bloody hundreds of them.”

“Search me,” Buddy shrugged as he sat down on a bench and watched the tourists climb the hill towards the
Titanic
graves. He took out his lunch and began gnawing on a ham baton,
then
he remembered the coleslaw. He prised open the lid and scooped out a mouthful with the plastic spoon the deli-take out had provided.

“Care to ask a few of them why they come?” Joe asked.

“Nope,” Buddy said, a stray piece of cabbage hanging from the corner of his mouth. He licked it back inside.

“Go on, I’d like to know why they’ve suddenly started coming up here in their droves.”

“My mother, God rest her soul, you know she’s over there under the sweet chestnut tree. She used to say if you want to know something then
ask
.” Buddy continued to munch on his ham baton.

“I can’t, you know I can’t, but you can. Go on, do it for me, eh?”

“I’m eating my lunch.”

“But you’ll be finished soon and
there’s
a couple of young girls over there. You could ask them. They seem to be looking for someone in particular. Go on, help them out. It’s your job, isn’t it?”

“Nope, I’m only a gardener around here, part of the graveyard gang. There’s professional guides employed to show folks around. I just cut the grass.”

“But wouldn’t you like a bit more responsibility? After all, there’s nobody hereabouts knows more about the disaster than you, is there?”

Buddy glanced at the empty place next to him on the bench. “Now that’s bullshit, nice flattering bullshit, but bullshit just the same.”

“Okay, old man, so you can see through me, but you can’t blame me for being curious.”

“Look Joe, I know you’ve got a vested interest in the
Titanic,
perhaps you haven’t realised how her story has spread. Look, why not go down the town and take a look in the museum? They’ve got loads of new displays and some of the real artefacts.”

“I’ve been and I don’t like what I see. The place gives me a weird feeling.
Too many memories.
I prefer the outdoors, talking to you.”

Again Buddy glanced at the empty space on the bench. “
Ain’t
that because I’m the only one you can talk to?”

Silence.

“Look Joe, no offence intended, so
don’t
go off in a huff. If you’re still there and I’m guessing you are. I don’t know why I can hear you and nobody else can. Have you tried talking to others? What about some of these folks. Surely there’s somebody over there that might be able to hear you. Look at those
girls,
I’m guessing they’ve found the grave they’ve been looking for. Ah,
tears,
see that! They’re shedding real tears over that poor sod.”

“Buddy, stop it! I’m still here but I’m going over there to take a look at what they’re doing. If my eyesight isn’t failing me, those girls are shedding tears over me.”

“Bloody Hell!”
Buddy abandoned the remains of this lunch and jumped to his feet. He was panting when he reached the top of the slope where the group of tourists stood listening to the story of how the bodies recovered from
Titanic
were brought to their final resting place.

A blonde teenager wiped her eyes and pointed to the stone that bore the inscription
J Dawson April 15
th
1912 Titanic Victim
. “There he is, that’s Jack’s grave,” she said.

“Is that the real Jack Dawson?”
the
other girl asked the guide “We know Leo’s not dead, but the artist he played in the film, is that really him there?”

The guide smiled. “
There’s
been a lot of people up here recently asking the same question. Guess that film’s got a lot to answer for.”

The blonde crouched down and caressed the stone. “I bet he was as handsome as Leo.”

The guide moved towards her and pointed to a small squared block headstone
.“
This is the grave of J. Dawson, and Jack was a very common name in 1912, so yes, this is the grave of J. Dawson but we’ve no proof that he was an artist, like in the film.”

“I wish he’d sketch me,” the blonde sighed.

“And me, too,” the other girl said, kneeling down in front of the stone as if it was a shrine.

Buddy watched in mild amusement, he caught the guide’s eye and gave him a knowing look. This pair must have been the tenth lot that day and it was only lunchtime. Lunch, he remembered the baton and coleslaw he had left on the bench. He turned to go back down the hill when he remembered Joe. He looked back at the girls unwrapping two red roses. Carefully they laid them in front of J. Dawson’s stone.

“I loved the moment when he tells Rose, this is it!” the blonde said.

“My favourite was the bit in the back of the big old fashioned car. Oh yeah, I’d like some of that.”

“I don’t understand. What are they talking about?” Joe asked.

Buddy jumped. “Don’t creep up on me like that!” he said under his breath. A few tourists looked in his direction. “Sorry folks, I didn’t mean you.”

They gave him another suspicious look and backed away.

“See, what you’ve made me do? I
ain’t
supposed to scare off the punters.”

“What’s going on? Two young girls upset, crying over a grave and going on about some film. Level with me Buddy. I want to know the truth, none of your stories, give it to me straight.”

Buddy had never heard Joe so angry before. “Look, let’s walk over here, away from the crowd. I guess it’s about time we had a real talk.” He started to walk back to the bench and hoped Joe was with him. When he reached his lunch spot, several flies were crawling over the remains of the meat. He picked up the half-eaten bread roll and deposited it in the nearby bin, along with the carton of coleslaw.

He sat down in disgust, dragged his hand across his mouth and waited to hear if Joe had followed him. The party of tourists with the two “
Titanic
” film fans wended their way down the slope towards the gate and their bus. A fresh party were waiting at the information point for their guide.

“Okay Buddy, I’m listening.”

“It’s like this Joe, we’ve been talking for years, but I’ve never really understood why you’re here and why I’m the only one you can talk to. Why me? I’m only an ordinary bloke, a gardener part of the graveyard gang.”

“There used to be a few others around here like me, but one by one, they got identified and their folks came and they went on.”

“But you’ve been
ticketed,
there’s never been any problem over your I.D.”

“True, Buddy, but there’s something you see...I’m not Joe. They must have got me mixed up when they pulled me out of the sea. My name is Jack Phillips.”

“The Marconi man!
The guy that sent all the signals out in Morse code.
Streuth
! If you hadn’t stuck to your post the
Carpathia
might never have come.”

“And if we’d sent all the ice warnings up to the bridge, we might never have hit the iceberg.”

“Captain Smith received some of them, it wasn’t your fault he paid them no heed. No Joe...I mean Jack, your actions were heroic.”

“Now who’s talking bullshit?”

Buddy smiled as he scratched his head.  “All these years we’ve talked and I’ve always called you Joe.”

“That’s what the rest of these poor sods here called me. I was ticketed, somehow I got used to the name. But no one came for me, you see, not like the others. They got to pass over, now
there’s
just me left.”

“Why’s that?

“You have to understand the importance of kin, that’s why we have funerals, memorials, records and death certificates. I.D. is just as vital when you’re dead as when you’re alive.”

Buddy gasped as a sharp pain gripped his upper torso. He thumped his chest with his fist.
“Damn indigestion, I should have stayed and finished my lunch in peace.”

“Tell me about the film Buddy. This guy Jack they were going on about seems he was real popular.”

Buddy relaxed, the pain in his chest had eased. “Lots of films about
Titanic
have been made. You’d think the story line had been flogged to death, but still the writers manage to come up with something new. The latest is directed by James Cameron. Rumour has it he came here to Fairview to pick a name at random for his leading man. If he did come here, I never saw him but that’s not to say he didn’t come. He gets a famous leading actor to play the part of Jack Dawson, who falls for a first-class passenger called Rose. It’s all fiction, but folks know the
Titanic
existed, so they believe the stories. Jack doesn’t survive but Rose does. The film is their love story. The sinking footage is very convincing.”

“So these girls are fans?”

“Yes, crazy isn’t it. A film made for entertainment. It tells the story but it can’t recreate the real thing. I mean, not the way you experienced it.”

“Buddy, look at me.”

Buddy lifted his head. “Joe? I mean Jack...I can see you.”