Part Two: Chapter Six: Hard to Starboard
Cal walked into his stateroom after having enjoyed a wonderful time discussing business in the first-class smoking room. Such a wonderful time that he was fully ready to forgive Rose for her wild, barbaric behavior. He had been harboring a bit of a grudge that day, and was admittedly too harsh with her that morning- not that she had been right. . . partying below decks like that. . . everyone down there had probably been drunk. None the less that she had been spending so much time with that Dawson fellow.
She's younger than I am. He reminded himself. And far less mature. . . I'm sure she meant nothing by it.
In all honesty, he was more concerned about Dawson, who Cal had seen giving Rose looks that were quite unmistakable. Naive Rose probably had no clue what his intentions were, and likely thought his lifestyle interesting. . . Cal didn't see what was so interesting about being a homeless artist, but Rose often had odd fascinations. Nothing that age wouldn't cure. She was probably sorry, and certainly had seemed dejected today.
"Sweet pea!" He called, opening the door to her bedroom. "Are you in here, Rose?"
She was not.
She must be with her mother. He thought unconcernedly, sitting down on the sofa to wait till she and Ruth got back. He did not have to wait long. Ruth walked into the cabin, but she was alone. Cal was slightly surprised.
"Where's Rose?" He asked, standing.
"Rose? I thought she was with you." Ruth answered, shutting the door to the stateroom.
"No, I haven't seen her since you both went to tea. . . I assumed she'd been with you the rest of the day as well." Cal said.
"But she went to find you before we had finished." Ruth protested.
"Well, I haven't seen her." Cal answered.
Ruth looked concerned. "It's almost ten." She said. "Rose isn't one to stay out late."
"She was last night." Cal muttered scathingly.
"I gave Rose a talking to, she promised not to go down there again." Ruth replied nervously.
"Well, since I talked to her as well with the same response, I suppose we shouldn't jump to any conclusions." Cal said, though he wasn't all that convinced.
"Yes." Ruth agreed, equally unconvinced. "She learned her lesson."
Cal nodded. "Did you see her around anywhere?"
"No, did you?" Ruth asked. "Trudy?" She addressed one of the maids who had come into the room to dust.
"Yes, miss?"
"Have you seen Rose?"
Trudy turned red. "No miss." She mumbled. "I haven't."
"Look at me when you're speaking Trudy, not the feather duster." Ruth snapped. "Now tell me, did Rose come in here?"
Trudy hesitated.
"You can either tell me what my daughter's been doing, or lose your job." Ruth told her coldly.
"Well. . ." Trudy stammered. "She did come in here with. . ."
"With who, Trudy?" Ruth growled. "With. . . that boy. . . I don't know his name." Trudy said.
"What did he look like?" Cal asked, hoping very much that it wasn't who he thought it was.
"Well, he was blond. . ." Trudy began nervously. "And he was sort of tall. . . Jack. That's what I heard her call him before I left. . ."
"Thank you, Trudy, you may go." Cal took the liberty of saying- Ruth was speechless.
Trudy curtsied, and walked out the door, passing Lovejoy on her way out.
"Lovejoy!" Cal said furiously. "I want you to go find Rose."
Lovejoy raised his eyebrows.
"She's running around the ship with him!" Cal yelled. "Now go and get her, and don't come back until you do!"
"Yes, sir." Lovejoy said, walking out the door.
The two of them ran hand-in-hand back onto Titanic's cold, starlit deck, laughing at how funny what they just did was.
"Did you see those guys' faces?" Jack laughed- the humor of the hilarious situation had not been quenched in the slightest- it had been really, terribly, painstakingly, hysterical. "Did you see. . ."
Rose held up a hand to silence him, looking solemn and sincere.
"When this ship docks. . ." She began. "I'm getting off with you."
Jack smiled. "This is crazy." He told her.
"I know." She answered. "It doesn't make any sense. . . that's why I trust it."
Cal had never been so stunned or furious in his life. He could not believe it. . . his fiance had abandoned him for that awful Jack Dawson. Lovejoy was still not back yet, and Cal had sent him off to find Rose almost two hours ago. . . He still could not understand it, what could she possibly have to gain from being with Dawson? He was poor, uneducated, and unsuccessful. . . yet it seemed that she had fallen for him.
What does she see in someone so worthless? He thought angrily, and then it struck him.
She was angry at him, and this whole escapade was her revenge. Now it was clear. Rose had no feelings for Dawson. She was using him to make Cal pay for his loss of temper that morning. And as soon as he apologized to her, and begged her to come back, then she would drop him. In that light, Cal almost felt sorry for him, but her behavior was inexcusable, and certainly not becoming to any future wife of his. And Dawson, well, he did not know that he was means to an end, so Cal would have to punish him accordingly. Ruth, who hadn't said a word for an hour now, broke the silence.
"Nothing like this will ever happen again, I promise. . ."
"I should say it won't." Cal told her. "Rose and I will be having a long talk when she returns, and I am quite certain she'll stop her nonsense once and for all."
"Then, you don't plan on breaking the engagement?" Ruth asked, surprised.
"No." Cal said. "This is partly my fault for giving her maturity too much credit."
Lovejoy walked into the room, looking stiff and irritated.
"Where's my fiance?" Cal asked him.
"I have no idea." Lovejoy said.
Now Cal was irritated. "I told you not to come back until. . ."
But then an excellent idea struck him, and he was amazed at his own brilliance. This was a perfect idea of how to get rid of Dawson once and for all. . . There was no law against stealing fiance's, but there were laws against stealing diamonds. . .
"A moment, Ruth?" Cal asked her.
So Ruth went to her room, casting a curious glance at the two of them.
"I need you to do something for me." Cal said to Lovejoy, walking over to the safe, and pulling the "Heart of the Ocean" from it. "Stay in the hallway, and if Rose and Dawson come back, I want you to put this in his pocket." He handed Lovejoy the necklace. "I'll call the master-at-arms, tell them it's missing, and then when you get Dawson in here, I'll demand that he be checked, and we will be through with him for good."
"But, sir, if anyone found out that-" Lovejoy began.
"No one will find out!" Cal exclaimed, frustrated. "Now do as I tell you!" "
Sir, what if they don't show up-"
"Just do it, Lovejoy!"
The sea stretched out in front of Titanic like glass. The sky was clear and bright stars gleamed tranquilly in the moonless sky. It was a cold night, and the two lookouts in the crow's nest, Fleet and Lee, shivered while they watched their breathe freeze in the blackness ahead. It had been a quiet watch so far, though at around 11:30 a slight haze appeared on the horizon. . .
And then, out of nowhere, an iceberg appeared, looming white on the calm horizon. . . It was ugly and ominous. It shattered the ocean's tranquility like glass. Chills went down their spines', when they saw the ghostly piece of ice that was so big, it could've been a mountain. . . Titanic was heading straight for it.
"There's ice ahead!" Fleet cried, reaching past Lee and ringing the alarm bell thrice, its echoes destroying the silence, telling the bridge that there was something ahead, and then picked up the phone. They could hear it ringing from their end, watching as Titanic drew closer to the berg. . .
"Pick up, you bastards!" Fleet cried into the phone.
Sixth Officer Moody picked up the phone ringing in the wheelhouse, and a hysterical voice asked, "Is anyone there?!"
"Yes," He replied collectedly. "What do you see?"
"Iceberg! Right ahead!"
"Thank you." Moody replied automatically, hanging up and yelling to First Officer Murdoch, "Iceberg, right ahead!"
But Murdoch had already seen it, and ran to the engine room telegraph, signaling "full astern," and yelling to Quartermaster Hichens, who stood at the wheel. "Hard to starboard!"
Hichens pulled the wheel hard over furiously. And then there was nothing to do but wait.
"Is it hard over?" Murdoch asked.
"Yes, sir, hard over!" Moody called back.
Fleet and Lee waited for what felt like an eternity while they waited for the ship to turn. . .
"Why aren't they turning?" Lee asked nervously.
"Come on, come on, come on. Turn." Fleet muttered.
And then, the nose of the ship turned, and for a moment, it looked as though she wouldn't hit.
"Yes." Fleet breathed. But it was too close.
"It's going to hit!"
There was a loud, scraping noise on the port side of the ship, and back in the wheelhouse, Quartermaster Hichen's hands were shaking. . .
Fabrizio sat up in bed, the room was shaking as though there had been an earthquake, and there was an awful noise, like a saw cutting metal. . .
Perche la stanza sta tremdo? He thought.
The holes punctured the wall in the luggage compartment when she hit, spraying the entire room in icy water. . .
Mr. Andrews was in the study, looking over the notes he'd been taking on Titanic that week, when he heard the sound of glass tinkling. The wine in the glass next to him was shaking, and the crystal chandelier above him trembled. . . and he knew that something was wrong.
Jack and Rose stood on the deck, mid-conversation and oblivious to just about everything.
"You really want to go ice-fishing?" Jack asked her.
"Yes!" Said Rose, laughing. "You can teach me. . . "
"I'll try-"
A horrible shaking cut him off mid-sentence, like there was an earthquake, but before Jack even had time to wonder what it was, he saw them scrape up against a huge iceberg. It cracked as Titanic slid across it, and giant pieces of ice showered the deck like meteors.
"Get back!" He exclaimed, pulling Rose out of the way, and they watched, horrified as Titanic passed it. They ran to the side of the rail, and watched the icy mountain fade into the distant.
"Was that an-" Rose began.
"Yeah, it was."
The boiler room was flooding and rapidly. A rush of water had come pouring from along the side of the ship, two feet above the floor. The gash extended from the bulkhead to the coal bunker that had been emptied earlier, and water shot through it violently. The fires in the boilers hissed and spat steam when the water hit them, and terrified men scrambled to get out. And word came that the water tight doors were closing, and if they didn't get out before they shut, then they would be trapped.
"Come on!" No. 6 Leading Stoker Frederick Barrett stood by the closing door, beckoning his fellows to hurry through the water which was already knee deep.
"Let's go! Get out the door, they're closing the doors! Get out!"
They dove through the gap, which was getting smaller and smaller.
"Get out the door! Go on! Go on! Come on lads, go!"
And Barrett could wait no longer to get through, he slipped through the gap in the closing door, and it shut. Anyone left behind was drowned.
Perspiration gathered in beads on Mr. Murdoch's face, and the entire crew on the bridge was holding its breath when Captain Smith walked in, looking worried.
"What was that, Mr. Murdoch?" He asked quietly.
"An iceberg, sir." Murdoch replied rigidly. "I put her hard to starboard and ran the engines full astern, but it was too close. I tried to port round it, but she hit and. . ."
"Close the water-tight doors." Smith interrupted. "The doors are closed, sir."
"All stop." Smith commanded.
"Aye, sir!" Someone said, ringing another alarm bell, as Smith and Murdoch looked over the rail at the side of the ship. "Find the carpenter. Get him to sound the ship." Smith told Murdoch.
"Yes, sir."
Fabrizio leaped from his bunk-bed, and his feet were immediately submerged in icy water.
"Cosa nel mondo?!" He exclaimed, and the exclamations of Hans and Kristoff were similar.
He glanced at Jack's bunk, which was empty, and wondered where his best friend could possibly be. But there was little time for wondering about anything except the water on the floor. He poked his head out the door, and looked into the hallway- everyone was looking into it, and the hallway was flooded as well the cabin was. Tommy was already dressed, and he was making his way through the hallway towards the stairwell.
"Come on." He told Fabrizio. "Let's get out of here! Come on, hurry up!"
"Aspettami." Fabrizio replied, hastening to grab his coat and pants.
The happenings in the first class corridor were quite different than in third class. There was no water on the floor, and there was no panic. In fact, the stewards were telling the concerned first-class passengers everything was completely fine.
"Excuse me." The Countess said to one of them from the open door of her stateroom. "Why have the engines stopped? I felt a shudder."
"I shouldn't worry, madam." The steward replied. "We've likely thrown a propeller blade. That's the shudder you felt. May I bring you anything?"
"No, thank you." She said, not altogether reassured when she saw Mr. Andrews make his way gravely through the corridor.
Rats were making their way ahead of the water flooding the hallway- Tommy and Fabrizio were not far behind them.
"If this is the direction the rats are going that's good enough for me." Tommy said.
Bruce Ismay was walking through the carpeted hallway in his slippers and pajamas, when Cal poked his head out of his stateroom.
"You there," He said irritatedly to a steward.
"Please, sir." Said the steward, who was tired of reassuring everyone that everything was under control. "There is no emergency."
"Yes, there is, I have been robbed!" Cal told him.
"Get the master-at-arms." Lovejoy added sternly.
"Now, you moron!" Cal said.
"Yes, sir." The steward replied stiffly, walking off to do as he was told.
There were people kicking ice around on deck, but Jack was a bit more concerned. They had hit an iceberg. . .
"I can't tell whether or not it caused any damage." He told Rose, looking over the rail at the ship's side.
"I don't think so." Rose said calmly. "I don't see anything."
"Neither do I. . ."
An icy chill ran down his back, and Rose laughed wildly at the expression on his face, apparently having slipped a chunk of the ice down his shirt.
"You think that was funny, huh?" He asked, picking her up and walking towards the side of the ship. "I think I should throw you overboard. . ."
"No!" She shrieked. "No, Jack! Put me down. . . I'm sorry, all right?"
"I don't know. . ." He teased.
"I'm sorry!" She gasped. "Extremely sorry!"
Jack set her down, and she was still laughing.
"You don't look extremely sorry." He said, grinning.
"I'm not." She giggled.
He looked at the side of the ship again, smile fading into severity, and he couldn't help but feeling that they wouldn't be laughing much more that evening.
"You're really worried about that, aren't you?" Rose asked.
"We hit pretty hard." He answered.
"They say this ship's unsinkable."
Jack shook his head, thinking that it was ridiculous how everyone thought that. "It's not unsinkable."
"Do you think we should be concerned?" She asked tensely.
"I don't know." He said truthfully, as they walked back up the stairs to the main deck. Captain Smith, followed by a mob of crewman and Mr. Andrews, was walking down.
"Boiler room six is flooded eight feet above the plate." A crewman said to Captain Smith. "And the mail hold is worse. She's buckled in the forward hold."
"Can you shore up?"
"Not unless the pumps get ahead."
"Have you seen the mail hold?" Mr. Andrews asked.
"No, she's already under water."
Already under water? Jack thought.
"This is bad." He told Rose.
She looked concerned. "We should tell Mother and Cal."
"That's a good idea." Jack said.
"Do you think that it'll sink?" Rose asked him.
"I don't know, but it doesn't look good." He answered as they walked into the dining saloon. "If the mail hold's already flooded. . ."
There was a long pause.
"I'm nervous." Rose said.
"About the ship?" Jack asked.
"About seeing Mother and Cal." Rose moaned.
"It'll be okay." Jack consoled. "I'll be right there."
"Just. . . let me do the talking." Rose said. "I have to be the one to explain this."
Jack nodded. "I won't say a thing."
"Just keep holding my hand."
"We've been looking for you, miss." Lovejoy said dryly from the corridor.
Rose sighed. "Well, here we go."
They walked into the mahogany paneled stateroom. Cal was smoking a cigarette angrily. Rose's mother stood anxiously behind him, dressed in a purple silk kimono, and there were butlers all over the room.
"Something serious has happened." Rose started, and Jack could feel her pulse speed up in her hand.
"Yes, it has. Indeed." Cal agreed waspishly. "Two things dear to me have disappeared this evening. Now that one is back, I have a pretty good idea of where to find the other."
And then Jack realized that the butlers were not actually butlers at all, they were security men.
What are they. . .
"Search him." Cal demanded, and the master-at-arms walked up to him.
"Take your coat off, sir."
"Now what?" Jack asked Cal, quickly getting annoyed at whatever game this was.
"Come on." The master-at-arms said to him, as Jack removed his coat.
"Cal, what are you doing?" Rose asked, looking sincerely perplexed at the whole thing. "We're in the middle of an emergency. What's going on?"
"Is this it?" The master-at-arms asked Cal exasperatedly, pulling from Jack's pocket a glimmering, blue, heart-shaped diamond on a chain.
"That's it." Cal said.
How did that. . . Jack thought, confused, and then he realized that this was Cal's tidy little revenge plan, and that Lovejoy had been standing right next to him when he had walked in the door.
"This is stupid!" He exclaimed, as the master-at-arms handed the necklace to Cal.
"Don't you believe it, Rose. Don't." Jack told her, but there was the smallest flicker of doubt in her eyes.
"He couldn't have." She told them uncertainly.
"Of course he could." Cal said. "It's easy enough for a professional."
Professional? Jack thought. You didn't have to make things personal.
"But I was with him the whole time." Rose argued. "This is absurd. . ."
"Perhaps he did it when you weren't looking, dear." Cal suggested in an undertone.
"Real slick, Cal." Jack said loudly. "Rose, they put it in my pocket."
"Shut up." Cal snapped.
"It isn't even your pocket, is it son?" Lovejoy asked, handing the coat to the master-at-arms. "Property of A.L. Ryerson."
"This was reported stolen today." The master-at-arms said.
"I just borrowed it." Jack said earnestly, wishing that he hadn't taken it. Or wishing at least that he had remembered to return it. He had meant to, it had just slipped his mind.
"I was going to return it."
"We have an honest thief here, do we?" Cal scoffed.
"You know I didn't do this, Rose." Jack pleaded, but distrust shadowed her face.
She did not know what to think of it, and her doubt was stemming from her fear.
"You know it. Don't you believe them, Rose. You know I didn't do it!"
"Come on, let's go." The master-at-arms said, as he and his fellow grabbed Jack on each arm.
"You know I didn't do it, Rose." Jack told her desperately, as they dragged him towards the door. But Rose's face remained expressionless, and she said nothing.
"Rose!" "Come on, son." The master-at-arms told him, as Jack struggled against their grip.
"There's a good lad. Come on."
"You know I didn't do it!" He yelled from the hallway. "You know me!"
Ismay walked into the bridge, fully dressed. Captain Smith, Thomas Andrews, Mr. Murdoch, and several crewman stood inside, all looking grave.
"What happened?" He asked.
"We have struck ice." Smith replied.
"Is the ship seriously damaged?"
"I'm afraid she is."
"Most unfortunate, Captain." He said, but he was ignored.
Andrews pulled out a roll of Titanic's blue-prints and laid them out on the table. His face was wet with sweat, and he looked more anxious than all of them.
"Water fourteen feet above the keel in ten minutes." He muttered, touching the diagram where the water was rising. "In the forepeak, in all three holds and in the boiler room six. . ."
"That's right, sir." Mr. Murdoch confirmed.
"When can we get under way, cuss it?" Ismay asked impatiently.
"That's five compartments." Andrews said. "She can stay afloat with four, but not five. . . not five. As she goes down by the head, the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads at F-deck from one to the next, back and back. There's no stopping it."
"The pumps-" Smith suggested. "If we open the doors-"
"The pumps will buy you time, but minutes only." Andrews said. "From this moment on, no matter what we do, Titanic will founder."
Ismay was in denial. "But this ship can't sink." He said, flabbergasted.
"She's made of iron, sir." Andrews said flatly. "I assure you she can. . . and she will. It is a mathematical certainty."
"How much time?" Smith asked quietly.
And the room was silent for almost an eternity, when Mr. Andrews said brokenly, "An hour. Two at most."
Smith seemed to realized the imminent danger of his passengers, his crew. . . they all knew that there were not enough boats. . .
"And how many souls on board, Mr. Murdoch?" He asked.
"2,200 souls on board, sir." Murdoch replied solemnly.
"I believe you may get your headlines, Mr. Ismay." Smith said.