Author's note: I'd like to say I do not own Charlene's fiancee, Seamus O'Malley, or Ernie Longstaff.
Chapter 4 April 11th:Alex Johnson, 2nd class passenger
Not much happened today. I decided to see if I could get any autographs from some of the folks up in first class. The only person willing was Margaret Brown. I even got to talk with her for a while. She was really nice, and extremely outgoing. How I wish I was allowed up. But they tell me that we're separated because of American immigration laws, something about "communicable diseases." Uh-huh, sure. It has nothing at all to do with the fact that the rich don't want to be associated with the poor. Yes, I was being tongue in cheek.
At 11:30 we landed at Queenstown, our last stop before America. It makes one feel like a king, no matter what walks of life you come from, watching the crowds waving up at you, admiring the world's largest and most luxurious ship. I gotta say, she truly is a floating palace. The dock is teeming with people. I'd even venture to guess all of Ireland, or at least all of Queenstown. As soon as the clock struck 1:30, we disembarked. Many are returning to our own country, some traveling there for a vacation but for those in steerage, sailing towards a new and hopefully better life.
I saw Charlene on deck talking to another man. I approached her and asked her who he is. She told me, "This is my fiancee."
Needless to say, I was quite shocked.
"Oh, well, congratulations." I replied.
I thought Charlene and I really had something going there. Eh, there are plenty of fish in the sea.
I decided to go see what's going on in the smoke room. When I got there, I saw an Irishman and an Englishman with a Cockney accent and decide to watch. They noticed me and decided to invite me in a hand. Happy they did, I agreed.
"Glass o' brandy or somefink, guv'nor?" The Englishman asked me.
"Er, no thanks, I don't drink."
Nah? Woi not?" He asked.
"My parents just raised me that way."
"Well, they ain't 'ere, now is they?" He said.
"Now Ern, if the lad doesn't want to drink, don't make him. Awfully nice o' ya, boyo, listenin' to yar parents, even when they're not with ya. You are trav'lin' without 'em, right?"
"Thank you, Mr…"
"O'Malley. Seamus O'Malley, and this here's Ernie Longstaff."
"Friends call me 'Ern.'"
I decided to play a few more hands. At one point, Ern even thought He'd won again.
"You're good, Ern, but," I say, affecting a mock proper English accent, "I present, in your honor, a Royal Flush."
A couple hands later, I decided to leave, and went down to the library, where I stayed until supper, which consisted of basically the same stuff from last night. After that, I decided to retire.
