"I'm killing them all
I put my soul on the line
I purify sins that I committed in life
I follow them all and I'll be bringing them down
Wherever they go, I'm right behind
There's nowhere to go
Your head on the line
There is no rope
You're running out of time
So where will you go when I will murder your soul?"
- Within Temptation, Murder
The early morning sun spilled its golden beams upon the city of Southampton on April 10th, 1912. Fifth officer Harold Lowe was already up and at 'em along with third officer Herbert Pitman with whom he was scheduled to stand watch with throughout the ship's maiden voyage. The fourth and sixth officers, Joseph Boxhall and James Moody, were still sound asleep. "Ahh, today's the day." Herbert said with a big broad smile that complemented his mustache. "It's gonna be a good one." Harold responded, very much looking forward to setting sail on the Atlantic that day. "Did we ever get those lifeboats lowered?" Asked Pitman. "You know how the Board of Trade is rather testy regarding safety regulations."
"No question about that." Harold remarked. "And no, not yet. I was going to have Moody assist me in lowering them."
"Well, Mr. Moody is still asleep. The sooner we get those boats lowered, the better."
"Yeah, I should probably go wake him up."
"Good luck. That fellow sleeps like a rock. A tornado wouldn't be able to wake him up."
"He's a hard worker. You have to give him credit for that."
"True."
Harold turned, walking down the bridge, through the wheelhouse and down the corridor to the officer's quarters where James slept. He was envied a little by his fellow officers as he was given his own personal cabin as compensation for his small salary. Harold knocked on his door. "James? You awake?" No answer. Harold knocked once more before cracking the door open. He peered in to find the 24 year old sprawled out on his bed, completely zonked out. "James? Yoo-hoo, Jimmy." Harold attempted to wake him but clearly using his voice was not an adequate approach. Harold entertained the memories of when his brothers would punch him hard in the upper leg, resulting in a charley horse. He decided to test his own strength on the sleeping officer. "Okay, James. You made me do it." He stepped up to the officer's bed, pulled his arm back and, with as much strength as he could muster up, slammed his fist into James' upper thigh. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Moody yowled. If Harold had any way of recording such a cry, it would surely make an effective fire alarm.
"Harold, you git!" Moody shouted, clutching his upper leg. "I tried waking you up nicely but you didn't even stir." The fifth officer said with a prideful little smirk. "It's your own bloody fault." The younger officer grumbled as he stretched out his leg to relieve that nasty contraction one experiences during a charley horse. "Now that you're awake, I'm going to need your assistance in lowering the last couple of lifeboats."
"Thought that was already taken care of." Moody muttered.
"Nope, not yet. Thought I'd come and ask for your assistance."
"After you just bruised my leg?"
"Yep."
"Ugh, you plonker."
"I'll meet you up deck in 10 minutes. I'll make it up to you by making you breakfast myself, how's that sound?"
"Not nearly as satisfying as letting me kick you in the arse but it'll do."
Harold chuckled before returning back to the deck to prepare the lowering of the lifeboats. A few minutes later, James showed up on deck. "Ah, there you are." Harold said. "I'm a bit surprised it didn't take you the full 10 minutes to get here."
"Hardy har har." James mocked. "Are we going to lower these lifeboats or not?"
The two tended to their duties regarding the lifeboats and began working. "Something I've been meaning to ask you," James said as he and Harold lowered the first lifeboat. "What was all that hullabaloo about a few days ago between Smith and the other officers?"
"Not sure." Harold replied. "All I heard was that another officer was dropped entirely. David Blair I think his name was."
"What did they drop him for?"
"Don't know. Sounded like they just found someone more suitable for the position."
"Hmm. I mean, that's fair enough if you think someone can do the job better but I can imagine that would leave a person rather scorned."
"You think?"
The two officers remained quiet throughout the remainder of their task until the second boat had been lowered. "Well, that's taken care of." Harold said, dusting off his hands as he walked back in the direction of the bridge. "Ahem!" James interjected. Harold turned around. "What?" James casually pointed in the direction of his stomach, sending the subtle reminder that Harold promised him breakfast. Harold caught the hint right away. "I did promise I'd make you breakfast, didn't I?" A smug grin appeared across James' face as he slowly nodded. "Fine." Harold sighed as he and James made their way to the galley. "Eggs over easy topped with bacon sounds nice right about now." The sixth officer said deliberately attempting to get on Harold's nerves. "The key word being topped. Eggs are plated first and then the bacon is placed on top, or at least that's how my mother did it. She also would place two strips of bacon vertically and then two horizontally. It would just look nicer when she drizzled the maple syrup on top. Oh, and she usually had toast or hash browns on the side as well."
"Did she ever sock you in the head before serving you breakfast?" Harold grumbled.
"No, but she would kiss me on the cheek right when she served me." James replied with an even more smug grin.
"Oh, I'll kiss you on the cheek alright." Harold muttered. "I'll kiss you with my palm."
The two officers entered the galley to find it unoccupied. "That's odd." James said. "Usually the chef is here by now."
"I thought I was making you breakfast." Harold remarked.
"Oh, trust me, I was holding you to that. I just think it's strange that he wouldn't be here."
"Maybe he's still asleep. Now, where are the eggs?"
Harold opened the pantry door to find a bundle of eggs and some bacon. He cooked the eggs and bacon as per the little nuisance, er, James' request. He sliced up some rustic sourdough and placed them in a separate pan to toast up. The aroma of the galley made his stomach gurgle as he just realized he had not eaten breakfast himself. His fellow officer checked the cabinets in search of a bottle of maple syrup.
While searching through the pantry he located something very much out of place. "Um, Harold?" He said with slight confusion in his voice. "Yes, I'm keeping an eye on the eggs." Harold replied sounding annoyed. "Actually, that wasn't it." Harold turned his head to see James standing there holding up a pick axe. What was a pick axe doing in the galley? "What's that doing here?" Harold asked, perplexed. "Not sure." James replied. "Maybe someone was in a hurry to get their work done and they just left it here?"
"But why would they leave it in the galley of all places?"
"Beats the bloody hell out of me."
The two officers were baffled but decided to shrug it off. "Well, if someone did misplace it we should just leave it here in case they come back for it." James said as he propped the pick axe against the wall. "Alright, breakfast is ready." Harold said, plating the eggs and bacon in the way James had described. Or more like demanded. Harold had fixed a double portion for himself. As he set the plates down on the small table behind him James emerged from the pantry with a bottle of maple syrup.
"I hear they import that stuff straight from Canadia." Harold said.
"Canada, you pillock." James corrected.
"Whatever, it's a Canadian."
Harold poured a couple of glasses of milk for them both. The two sat down to their breakfast. "Probably should have asked first but do you think the chef would mind two officers dining in the galley?" James asked as he poured maple syrup over his eggs and bacon. "I doubt it." Harold answered as James passed the syrup over to him. The two officers indulged in their breakfast, not exchanging another word between the two of them. As odd as James' breakfast choice sounded, Harold was quite surprised by how delicious he found it to be. Harold and James downed the last of their milk leaving nothing but their cleaned plates in front of them. The two got up from their chairs and washed off their dishes before heading back to the wheelhouse.
"Ready?" James asked as he straightened out the collar of his shirt. "As I'll ever be." Harold replied. People were already starting to gather at the docks either waiting to board, bid farewell to their loved ones or just watch Titanic set sail on its maiden voyage across the Atlantic.
