Chapter 2: Pilot-Mary
I look out the little hole in my wall. From here I can see the great titanic. The whole city has gathered around the ship. All I can see from here is a blob of color in the distance. The ship stands what must have been 1,000 feet high. It is the purest color of white I had ever seen. What I would give to see it in person. I have lived in this orphanage for as long as I could remember. Every six months we took a field trip to the dentist and the haricutters' shop. Other than that, I have never been anywhere else than here.
This may be a little run-down shack of an orphanage, but I guess it's the only thing I can call home. My bed is a narrow frame of springs that can barely support my weight. The frame used to be white, but the paint is chipped, and dust has taken over the floor. This orphanage has been open since 1804, and the government just doesn't have the money to pay for new beds. But there isn't much that I can say. The little brass bed with a straw-stuffed mattress is the only thing I get to call my own, and no one can take it from me.
But sometimes I can't help but yearn for more. I want to know of the world that exists beyond the orphanage and the dusty books in our library. Sometimes I like to read. Reading could put me on the Titanic-the ship of dreams. I could see the dolphins swimming along side the beautiful boat. I could taste the salty sea breeze and feel the wind in my hair. The feeling of freedom as I stand on the front of the boat and...fly. I lean back into my pillow and gaze toward the titanic. But they are just dreams. Dreams I can only ever live in books.
"Mary," whispers a voice.
A young man turns around the corner and entered the room.
"Jasper," I cried out with a smile. I jump out of my little brass bed and throw my arms around him.
Jasper was my only friend. I share my room with eleven other girls, but I still feel completely alone. Maybe it's because I have never known what it is like to have a family-not even a brother or sister. Everyone else in the orphanage has a sibling inside-everyone but Jasper. Jasper and I met one day when I was ten years old. I was eating lunch all by myself, because I was too shy to sit with any of the other kids. An older boy came and sat down with me. His dark hair looked intimidating.
"What's your name?" asked the boy.
"Mary," I whispered.
That was the first time I had spoken in weeks, but no one seemed to notice.
"I'm Jasper," he said.
Everything about him was louder than me. Even his posture proved how confident he was.
"Do you want to come sit with us?"
I nodded. He put his arm around my shoulder and led me to a table. It was the most crowded table in the orphanage. It was probably because they were all boys. The boys somehow managed to make this orphanage into something...fun. I guess I never knew what it felt like to have fun. Jasper stood next to the table. Everyone went quiet. Jasper was the oldest, so everyone listened to him.
"This is Mary. I want you all to make her feel at home," he said.
I couldn't help but smile. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.
Jasper was fourteen at the time. We became best friends. He made me feel like I actually belonged somewhere. But he could only stay in the orphanage until he turned eighteen. After he left all I could do was look out the little crack in the wall by my bed and dream of a different life. Jasper was the closest thing to family I ever had.
"B-but how are you here?" My eyes fill with tears of joy.
"It wasn't easy, but I'm here now and I'm gonna get you out," he smiles.
"How?"
"We're gonna sneak out the back door. I need you to run downstairs as fast as you can and don't look back. Keep running untill you get lost in the crowd. This might be the only chance you get?"
"Do you really think it will work?"
"How do you think I got in?"
I smile. I throw my arms around him and give him another hug.
"You are the best friend in the world you know that?"
"Of course. Now go get changed."
I grab the cleanest shirt in my bag and run into the bathroom to change. All my dreams are coming true. I get to see my best friend and the RMS Titanic in the same day. It's almost too good to be true. I glance into the mirror. It is rusty and broken, but I can still see myself. My face is coated with dirt and my hair is greasy. I haven't taken a bath all week. I look disgusting, but Jasper doesn't mind. He isn't that shallow.
Jasper runs down the hallway and through the mess hall. Everyone else is eating their breakfast. Jasper pushes open the door. By now, I am guessing that all eyes are on us. I do not dare look back.
"Hey! Get back here!" shouts a stern voice.
"Mary keep running," says Jasper.
I run at top speed. For the first time in forever I feel free. Soon we are surrounded by people. I can see the ship in the distance. Jasper and I begin to push through the crowd. I can hear people mocking me, but I don't mind. I keep running.
"Jasper we made it!"
I turn around, but he is gone. No! He can't be gone.
"Jasper," I shout.
"JASPER!" this time louder.
"JASPER!" I am screaming at the top of my lungs but no one can hear me. No one even turns around.
I can't believe that after three years of being apart, I was careless enough to lose him in the crowd. There are millions here. I'll never find him.
'Come on Mary be strong' I tell myself. The Titanic leaves in fifteen minutes, I can find Jasper later. For now I just need to see the great ship.
"I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania."
I turn around. Did someone actually just say that? I guess I can sometimes forget how the wealthy can be so arrogant. A beautiful young heiress stands with a handsome young man next to her black and gold automobile. A car of such luxury matches a person like her. It looks as if she just stepped out of a fairytale. She wore a white suit with an oversized purple hat. Her skin was pale and pure, like a porcelain doll. Her eyes are the color of the sea, and her lips are painted red. I have never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. It then remember how I must look in her eyes. A little rat of the street, covered in dirt.
"To the Parlor Suite rooms B52, 54, 56," says a baggage worker.
The workers lift the bags and follow the heiress and her mother toward the ship. The baggage worker that shouted out the orders moves onto a different car. Then I see something. The heiress left a bag in the car and no one noticed. I take a deep breath. This is my chance. I can follow them up to the ship ang give them there bag. From such a tall view, I will be able to find Jasper.
I lift the bag and run after the family. By now they are already on the first class ramp. I had to sprint to catch up with them. The young man who stood next to the heiress was holding his bags when he saw me. He stops and looks down at me as if I am a rat in the sewer.
"Sir I-" he cuts me off.
"Why am I still holding my bags?" he asks in an impatient tone.
"Of course," I say, taking the trunks out of his arms.
When we get to the top of the ramp, I look over the crowd of people. I can't see Jasper, I'm not high enough. Maybe if I go up to the top decks, I can see him. I walk through the doors and past the guards without making eye contact. They don't seem to notice me.
I walk up to the young heiress' mother.
"Ma'am I believe you left these bags in the car," I say, expecting her to thank me.
"That's why you're here," she says without even turning around.
'Does she think I work for her?' I can't give up my cover now. I nod and follow them into the suite.
I guess I might be on here longer than I planned. I guess Jasper is in my past and I am ready to move on. What better place to find my identity than the RMS Titanic. The walls in the hallway are brown, but not like the rusty brick brown of the orphanage. They are a pure, reddish-brown marble color, detailed with beautiful gold. The family and their workers head through a door.
"This is your private prominare deck. Would you be requiring anything," asks a man in a white suit.
The heiress, her mother, and the gentlemen pay no attention to him or the beautiful deck around them. I have never seen anything like this before in my life. The room is filled with a dozen straw lounge chairs, surrounded by plants, and padded with silky white cushions. The wooden floor is light brown, matching the chairs. The doors opened up to a little deck that overlooked the rest of the boat. Inside were three separate rooms, one for each of them I assume.
The young heiress unpacks a box full of paintings in her room and hangs them up on the wall. I set the bags down with the others and offer to help the heiress hang up the painting.
"It's alright. I've got it. But thank you," she says with a smile.
Maybe I underestimated her. She actually seems nice. I unpack the boxes along with the other maids in the room.
"There is a difference between Cal's taste in art and mine. I actually have some. They are fascinating. Like being inside a dream or something."
As if this room isn't a dream enough!
"There's truth but no logic," she says
I smile. But there is. I read about it once in a book.
"That's the point. It's abstract. The artist uses shapes and colors to tell a story. It's up to you to deside what it means," I say.
I expect her to scold me for speaking my mind. After all, I am her "servant."
"You are very wise for a maid," she says.
Cal rolls his eyes.
"It's almost as if Pablo Picaso said it himself. Oh but he did," he snarls.
"Cal why do you always have to be so rude?" she says.
"Maybe a wise girl like you could learn to take a bath," he barks, then leaves the room without looking back.
"Don't mind him. He's always like this," she says, trying to make up for Cal. But I don't mind.
Jasper!
I almost forgot about Jasper. I run down the hallway and down the stairs. I am now lost in a crowd of people. I push through and make my way to the edge. Then I see him. He is looking for me. Even if I were to scream, he wouldn't hear me. I wave toward him and the rest of the crowd. I guess this is goodbye then. My eyes begin to water and soon I am crying. In front of everyone. But not tears for Jasper, tears for a new beginning. Tears of joy.
I head back toward the first class decks. When I turn around, I run into someone's chest.
"I am so sorry," I say.
He is tall, with stern eyes and a light brown stubbly beard. He looks mean and stern, but somehow kind at the same time.
"No. My apologies. I'm Klaus," he has a distinct British accent, "and you are beautiful."
I can't help but smile.
"I'm Mary. Mary Dawson."
"Dawson?"
"That's what it said on the tag with my baby carrier"
"Well Mary Dawson. What brings you on the ship of dreams?"
"Actually I'm not staying. I just need to find my friend and being up high helps," I tell him.
"You care about this friend?"
"Of course. I can't leave without him."
"Well Mary you deserve to have a life without anything holding you back. The ship could leave at any moment, and there's no turning back," he looks into my eyes, "I want you to forget about this friend and any memories you've had with him."
"I wish it were that simple"
"Vervain," he mutters under his breath.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Nothing...I have to go. Hopefully we will meet again," he says.
"Yeah," I say with a smile. I turn around for a split second, and just like that he's gone.
"Be careful of Klaus," says a middle-aged woman, "he is dangerous."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Stay away from him," she puts her hand against my face, "It's in you're blood."
"What? Vervain?"
"Yes. But not for long," she hands me a necklace, "never take this off."
"Its beautiful. But why not?"
"It's complicated," she clasps the silver locket around my neck and tucks it under my shirt, "just don't let Klaus see it."
"What is your name?"
"Penelope," she claps her hands around mine, "promise me."
"I promise you Penelope."
I clutch the locket to my chest and walk toward the stairs.
"I saw my brother talking to you. What did he want?" asks a girl in a British accent.
"Nothing," I turn around to see her. Her blonde hair is braided back into a beautiful braid. She looks nothing like Klaus. Her features seem so kind and safe, while his scream dangerous.
"Be careful. You seem like a nice girl and I don't want him to hurt you," she says.
"Thank you"
I start to walk up the stairs, but then I realise I don't belong there. I belong in the lower decks. It doesn't feel right to stow away in first class when some had to spend their life savings on a third class ticket. I turn around and walk toward the other set of stairs. The ones that lead me to where I belong. I walk down the narrow hallway, but this time the walls are just a baige color.
A man stops me in my tracks.
"Excuse me miss. Do I know you?" asks a strange face.
I shake my head.
"You look strangely familiar," he opens up his bag and pulls out a sketchbook. He shows me a drawing of two children and their parents. He points to the little girl.
"Is this you?" he asks.
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Because she looks just like you," he says.
"I've lived my whole life in an orphanage. That's not possible."
"I'm sorry to bother you miss. I just need to find her."
"Why is that?"
"She is my sister."
"Good luck finding your sister, but I am an only child."
"I'm sorry to waste your time then miss."
"It's ok," I smile, "I'm Mary."
"Jack. Jack Dawson."