“Of course, Little Sister,” he calls back, his deep voice as reassuring as a warm coat.
“Guv’nor, I’d like this lady to have my spot. That baby needs a chance.”
The paunchy man lifts his hands. “That’s two more people!”
Something pops in my chest, and this time, my boiler explodes. Why should he get a place while dutiful men, like this young officer and my stalwart Jamie, stay behind? “Sir, you’ve got a beer baby on your lap that’s twice the size of the one she’s holding, so shut your piehole!”
Paunchy begins to stand, his face twisting into something ugly. But in front of him, Mr. Domenic also rises. The Russian is so big, he could row the boat even without oars. Paunchy sits back down.
The officer nudges the woman forward, steadying her as she climbs aboard and sits. Then he throws a salute toward the leaving vessel. “Good luck, all. Lower away!”
With the boat descending, Wink stares up at me, his face open, his eyes no longer leaking tears. His cheek twitches, and his gaze wavers between Jamie and me. He nods once, as if to tell me he understands.
My eyes fill. Goodbye, Little Brother. I may not see you again, but I will hope for it.
41
Jamie herds me farther up the deck. No other lifeboats remain on the starboard side of the ship, and according to rumor, none are left on the port side either. My mind flashes to Bo, who I hope found Tao and managed to get a spot somewhere.
Please, God, I haven’t been the most faithful sheep in your flock, but let him make it, wherever he is. And Tin Hau, if you really are the goddess of shipwrecks, it’s time to stir up some miracles.
We pass through a European-looking café with ivy trellises and rattan chairs, most overturned. Flower centerpieces lie broken on the tilting floor.
“Have I mentioned how annoying you are?” Jamie growls, stepping over a vase.
“Yes, but I always hear it as ‘You are a clever boot, aren’t you, Sis?’”
“You could’ve been on that boat. If you had just minded your own business, you would’ve been home free. But no, it’s like you’re one of those stewards handing out life belts, but you can’t stop. Why?” He grabs at his cap before realizing he’s no longer wearing one.
“Because family saves family.”
“Those people were not your family.”
“Wasn’t talking about them, you goat. Mum and Ba are up there, like those stars you like to stare at, and they’re pulling for us to help each other. Can’t you feel it?”
His eyes flit up to the latticework ceiling, and then he yanks open a door leading to the aft tidal-wave staircase. “I’d just be happy to feel my feet right now.”
“Me, too.” My wet boots seem to have frozen around my pins.
The hands of the simple square clock on the landing stretch toward 2:00. By my estimate, we’ve been sinking for over two hours. Another of those ineffectual cherubs throws me a helpless gaze, as if to say, I’m just as tired as you, Sister.
“If we do manage to find a boat, they might not take me.” Jamie slows to crook a finger at me. “Promise you’ll go if there’s a space. Promise.”
I almost laugh. Does he really think I could do that? After coming all this way. But he looks so brittle. “I promise to do the right thing,” I assure him. “Maybe we should get you a dress.”
“Why?” he mutters, slapping at his head, though I think the question is directed at someone with more influence than me.
I use the banister to help me up the last few steps. The angle of the tilt to head is so severe now that climbing the stairs seems to defy physics.
We exit through a port-side door onto the Promenade Deck. The water churns with wriggling flashes of white that remind me of a shoal of mullet.
But they aren’t fish. They’re people. People who are freezing right in front of us. How did they get down there? Did they jump? Perhaps they planned to swim toward one of the lifeboats. But once that icy water touches you, it’s a race against time. Our frigid swim through E-Deck was balmy compared with the open sea, the water slightly warmed from having passed through the boiler rooms.
At the rail, a man in a baker’s uniform flings deck chairs into the ocean.
“Need help, mate?” With his good arm, Jamie helps the baker throw the last of the makeshift floats, then nudges me forward. Up another staircase, we top the Boat Deck again.
I cry out, though my breath only vents as a hoarse whisper. Most of the bow has sunk. Water engulfs the forecastle and is steadily creeping up to the bridge. Oddly, the ship no longer tilts to starboard, but to port.
The davits are empty, their ropes swaying in the risen water. Several lifeboats are rowing away, despite being half-empty.
No wonder people jumped into the water. The Titanic will soon founder, and like barnacles on a diving whale, we’ll all be going along for the ride if we don’t bail out soon. At least in the water, we can make for a lifeboat—until we stiffen up like icicles.
“Move,” Jamie growls, cradling his left arm. “The collapsibles might still be there.”
A terrier streaks past us, followed by a dachshund and a pair of sheepdogs. “Where did they come from?”
“Dunno. But they’re headed to higher ground.”
“Maybe we should follow them.” I watch as they climb toward the stern.
“No.” Jamie tugs me away. “Any collapsible would be this way.” He nods to the sunken bow.
I plant my feet. “But I don’t see any boats. We’d be jumping into the pot.”
“Move your damn pins,” Jamie orders.
We pick our way down the sloping deck, every step a pain. But at least moving forces the blood to circulate.
The lights have grown dimmer, the yellow glow fading to orange and casting grim shadows on Jamie’s face. Steam fogs out of our mouths, reminding me that at least a few parts of us are still warm.
People fly by, headed to the stern. I throw Jamie a scowl. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
Jamie pushes on, even though any nitwit could see that all the craft on this side have left.
The water seems eager to meet us as we reach the forward part of the deck. Waves hiss and slither like a nest of reptilian beasts, cold-blooded and dark and everywhere at once.
“Look!” Jamie points to an oblong hump, like the underbelly of a giant fish, floating thirty yards beyond where the water pools in the well deck. It’s an overturned collapsible. Two ropes tether it to the railing on the roof of the officers’ quarters. People crowd the sides of the boat, trying to climb the hull before it breaks free of its leashes.