Monday, May 3rd, 1915
"I didn't care too much for all the Luminism and Cubism in the world if I wanted to leave my culture behind for a new one. I wanted to try something that had a little more of heart into it."
Marinette was explaining more and more of her life story as Lusitania sailed her way into the afternoon. Her morning efforts at etiquette, taught by Adrien, discombobulated her over a list of social graces like how to eat, how to walk and how to sit, even using hankies when she had to sneeze. Despite the cold weather from the wind and some patches of rain, the two were spending their afternoon on the boat deck. Adrien's increasing knowledge of his newfound companion grew so much, it was almost as if he had known Marinette all his life.
"Why can't I be like you, Marinette? Living in a garret, poor but free?"
"You wouldn't last three days in a garret," Marinette humored him. "There's no hot water, no waiters, no...servants, no wine...and hardly any caviar or egg soup."
"Actually," said Adrien with disgust on his face. "I do not like caviar and I am too young for wine. I do not care about servants or anything else you just said, my hands were made for work."
"What do you want to work for?"
"There is something in me, Marinette. I can feel it. I do not even know if I should become an artist or a dancer. I might want to ask Charles Frohman if I can act on the stage...if my father lets me."
He held his hands together at the mention of him, lowering his head as he did. Marinette placed her right hand on his left shoulder.
"You should tell you father that...and if he says 'no', try to convince him more until he admits it."
They passed onto the second class promenade, where Theodore and Belle Naish were taking pictures of themselves. It was Theodore's turn to take a picture of his wife by the deck, but Adrien suddenly came into view and stood tragically by the rail. Theodore chuckled and took the picture of Adrien instead. This was followed by a collage of photographs: Marinette pretending to be a courtesan, Adrien in a look of disdain and boredom while she pleaded and Belle was pretending to be a damsel in distress in the middle of a western shootout. It was such a fun day, but it nearly made Marinette forget about manners for the upcoming dinner.
Later as the sun began to set, Adrien and Marinette were leaning on the A-deck rail aft. She was just about explaining further details about her life, all the way up to her job at the Port of Calais.
"We should go there sometime," Adrien sighed romantically. "Drink beer, ride the rides if they have a fair there, and ride the surf on the fastest yacht around."
"I could also try horse-back riding," said Marinette with ambition.
"You are going to have to side saddle."
"Side saddling is for the girls your world, I want to do it like a real cowboy."
"And what next?" Adrien smiled. "Spit like a man?"
Marinette smiled in a silly way when she heard this. Without warning, she hawked her mouth and threw a big glob of spit into the ocean.
"Your turn."
Adrien screwed up his mouth and spitted.
"Pitiful!" Marinette criticized. "You gotta hawk it down, roll it on your tongue, up to the front, like this, then a big breath and blow it!"
Adrien went through the steps, he let out two big comets of glob flying into the water. All of a sudden they were interrupted by the harsh stern voice of Gabriel, who had been watching them with the stiff-legged Charles Frohman, Ogden Hammond and George Vernon.
"What is all this?! Spitting?! In public?!"
Adrien turned and tried to calm him down.
"Sorry, Father. But I would like you to meet someone. Her name is Marinette Cheng."
"Charmed, I am sure."
Adrien proceeded with the introductions as Marinette wiped a spot of spit from the left side of her chin off with her right hand. He would later write the following passage in his diary:
"The other men were gracious and curious about the girl who had saved my life. But my father, a supremacist that he was, looked at her like an animal. A wild Chinese animal that had to be killed quickly."
"Well, Miss Marinette," said Frohman. "It sounds like you are the perfect girl to stand around in a sticky spot."
Then suddenly, Vernon Livermore the bugler struck up a tune and everyone else laughed when Frohman said.
"Why do they always insist on announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?"
"Shall we go dress, Father?" Adrien asked, and the two hurried back to their cabins before the younger Agreste turned back to the girl.
"I'll see you at dinner Marinette."
Marinette waved her right hand back at him in return. Frohman liberated her from her dreamy romantic thoughts with a shout of "Young lady!"
Marinette faced him with a dull expression.
"Do you have any idea what you are doing? You are about to enter a world of high society and you are not even dressed for the part."
He spoke like a director trying to find an actress that would play the role of a first class woman beautifully.
"I'm sure Miss Jolivet could lend you a dress."
He escorted her back inside through the grand entrance.
In Miss Jolivet's cabin, D-15, which was disappointingly small, Frohman stood outside like a true gentleman and wishing he was back in his cabin looking over new scripts as Rita and Marinette went through whatever evening dresses suited the girl's fancy. The older woman felt like a costumer preparing a young actress for one of her films as she went through her belongings in a suitcase.
"It is rather large," she said to a red dress with black beads. "But I am sure it will fit you just fine."
Marinette slipped through the dress and it fit her like a glove. Rita smiled and directed Marinette at the mirror.
"I look like a ladybug with these colors," she said breathlessly.
Rita took this as a compliment.
"And a very beautiful ladybug as well. One that enchants the audience with her wings and takes her into a world of beautiful insects."
At the D-Deck landing of the staircase, Marinette's breath was taken away by the stairs of white walls and red carpeting. Rita had gone on ahead of her and now she felt alone, giving her a six minutes amount of extra time to practice the balance of being a proper lady. Two gilded-cage elevators brought Lady Allan and her daughters to the floor. Anna and Gwen saw Marinette and waved at her girlishly, but with grace and poise. They were joined by Gabriel and Chloé who descended from the stairs, but neither of them recognized her in that dress.
It was then she saw Adrien, smiling in his black suit at the top of the stairs. He looked perfect, stunning and all the more gentlemanly with his hair combed. Taking slow, careful steps, he saw Marinette under her Gibson girl hairdo (fixed by Miss Jolivet herself) and when he reached the final step, his right hand took Marinette's and his lips moved to the back of her glove, kissing it as he was trained to do.
"I saw my father doing the same thing with Lady Allan before we left port and I was willing to do it."
Marinette giggled.
"Shall we go to dinner, my lady?"
"Let's shall."
And with that, the perfect couple strolled their way towards Gabriel and Chloé. Adrien tapped his left index finger against his father's left shoulder. The two turned to face the unlikely couple.
"Chloé, surely you remember Miss Cheng?"
Chloé, caught off guard, studied her.
"Cheng...? Amazing! You could almost pass for a lady."
Through the doors, they entered the gorgeous two floor dining room in style where they met up with Rita and Frohman. They both grinned upon seeing Marinette and walked next to her.
"Nothing to it, is there Marinette?" Frohman smiled.
"Yes," Marinette replied in a low voice. "You dress like a princess and act like you have all the money in the world."
Adrien pointed out several notables, somewhat introducing Marinette to a cast of characters with separate backgrounds, albeit brief with some interesting facts.
"There's Lady Mackworth," he whispered, turning over to each person coming his way. "And...that's Alfred Gwynne Vanderbuilt III...the richest man in America and on this ship. Over there, that is Paul Crompton. His oldest son Stephen is around my age and is the loudest out of all the children. Because of that, I heard Theodate Pope Riddle the architect had to move to another cabin. And that is Elbert Hubbard and his second wife Alice. The first Mrs. Hubbard is at home with four of his children of course. And over here we have Caroline Hickson Kennedy and Kathryn Hickson, they are in the fashion business, among their many talents. Very popular with my father's business."
The Hickson sisters, engrossed by Adrien's handsomeness, looked at him like a prize show animal.
"Congratulations, Chloé, he is splendid."
Gabriel, who had been discussing fashion with executive Oscar Grab of the Max Grab Fashion Company and Mr. Schwarcz, also shared his compliments.
"My son looks better in reality than in his photographs," he joked.
"Chloé Bourgeois is a lucky woman," added Mr. Grab. "I may not know her well like the Hickson sisters, but I assume it is luck."
Mr. Grab, aware of Gabriel's anti-Semitic ways, tried not to act Jewish in the least bit possible. As a former citizen of Austro-Hungary, an ally of the German Empire, he was intending to keep his nationality disclosed until the end of the voyage.
Further inside the dining room, they ran into the Bilickes, who had just gone through the ornate double doors. Adrien brought Marinette over to them.
"Albert, Gladys, I would like you to meet Marinette Cheng."
Marinette shook Gladys' hand with a "How do you do?". When she came to Albert, he asked.
"Chinese, am I right?"
She nodded coquettishly.
"Have you ever been to Shanghai, I heard their municipality is filled with people from all over the world."
"No," Marinette denied in a doubtful voice. "I've only been around Lanzhou. I have heard of Shanghai and, even though I haven't been there, I guess it is beautiful."
They moved to the center of the dining room. The capped dome of white plaster and oval framed frescos depicting the four seasons granted the atmosphere of a ballroom at a grand palace, alive and lit by a constellation of light fixtures on the walls, full of elegantly dressed people and beautiful music from a five man orchestra. It felt opulent with a higher dining experience compared to White Star's superliners.
Adrien's lack of a description was superseded by an account of Marinette's actions in his diary.
"She must have been nervous but she never faltered. They assumed she was one of them... a young heiress to a shipbuilding industry perhaps... new money, obviously, but still a member of the club. Father of course, could always be counted upon..."
Marinette was seated opposite to Adrien in the central table of the room, who was flanked by Chloé, Gabriel, Lady Allan, Rita, Frohman, Max Schwarcz, Mr and Mrs. Bilicke, Gwen and Anna and Captain Turner. Gabriel was the first to break the illusion in the form of a seemingly innocent question.
"Tell us about the accommodations in steerage, Miss Cheng. I hear they are quite good on this ship."
Marinette's undaunted face was met with a serendipitous answer.
"The best I have seen, sir. Hardly any rats or dogs."
Everyone else laughed as Adrien gestured to Marinette to take the napkin off of her plate. Chloé calmed the laughter down with her response.
"Miss Cheng is indeed joining us from the third class. She was of some assistance to my fiancée three nights ago."
Adrien leaned his hands on the table, his voice clear.
"It turns out that Miss Cheng is quite a fine artist. She was kind enough to show me some of her work yesterday."
Chloé spoke to Marinette like a child as the meals were being served.
"This is an oyster," she said holding a clam in her right hand.
Adrien moved her arm down in petty annoyance while the others exchanged whispers and furtive glances at Marinette. This was becoming dangerous for her, even more dangerous than fighting the enemy with a bayonet. She could even hear Albert Bilicke speaking low to his wife.
"What is Chloé hoping to prove by bringing a Chinese bohemian up here?"
"Perhaps," said Schwarcz, overhearing them. "Gabriel is trying to find a new designer for next year's spring collection."
Thomas and Edgar Baldwin, both of them first waiters, delivered the food. Thomas leaned close to Marinette as he dipped caviar on his plate.
"How do you take your caviar, madam?"
"No caviar for me thank you. I never liked fish eggs."
Chloé answered for her.
"Just a soupcon of lemon on mine. It helps with the flavor."
Gabriel glanced back at Marinette, asking her as innocently as he could without trying to sound rude.
"Where exactly do you live, Miss Cheng?"
Marinette, considering herself as a traveler at the most, had not need to mention her birthplace until later.
"Well, right now my address is the RMS Lusitania, and after that I am on God's good humor."
Annoyed that Marinette had scored a point, Gabriel pressed her further. He could not believe how a girl so poor could find so many opportunities as he asked.
"How is it that you have means to travel without any money?"
"I work my way from place to place, even coming to America aboard the Teutonic. But I won my ticket on Lusitania at a very lucky hand in poker."
This caused everyone else's eyebrows, except Adrien's, to rise. Captain Turner seconded the notion with his own experience at card games.
"All life is a game of luck, but in all my years at sea, I never knew that I had so much luck as the master of many of Cunard's vessels, including this one."
"A real man makes his own salary," Chloé praised him. "Right, Cheng?"
Salad was served and Adrien helped Marinette find the salad fork by prompting her with his eyes. She was changing forks as Gabriel asked her again.
"Do you often find that rootless existence appealing?"
Marinette's following words became a source of inspiration that conjoined with the meaning of life itself.
"Well... the world is a big place, and I want to see it all before I go. My father was always talking about going to see the ocean. He died in the village he was born in, and never received his chance to see it. You can't wait around in one place, because you never know what hand you're going to get dealt next. See, my parents died in a flood from the Yellow River when I was five, and I've been on the road since, heading to Venice, Vienna, Paris...and all those other cities without any other living relatives. Something like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you and that you have to respect it for what it is. Life is a gift and I do not intend on wasting it. To make each day count."
"Well said, Marinette," Rita nodded.
Adrien raised his glass and everyone else, save for Gabriel and Chloé, made a toast.
"To make it count."
By 8:00 PM, desert was being served and Frohman was making comedic remarks about his career on the stage.
"So Barrie finds me a young girl and I ask 'who will she be playing?' and then he says, 'Peter Pan'."
Amongst the light chuckles of the Allan sisters, Adrien whispered to Marinette through her right ear.
"Next it will be brandies in the Smoking Room. After that, they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe."
"Anyone else want to join me for a brandy, gentlemen?" asked Gabriel.
The men at the table prepared to leave before Rita stood up to ask.
"Care to join us in the reading room, Marinette? You don't to stay out here with the men, do you?"
"No thanks," Marinette waved her right hand neglectfully. "I'd better get back."
"It probably would not interest you anyway," said Chloé, standing as Sabrina came to fetch her. "Fashion doesn't seem to be your interest, but it would be good of you to come."
Marinette silently agreed to her statement. Proper lady talk in her mind was as dull as an overcast sky. She leaned to Adrien, who was, obviously, too young to be with the other gentlemen, smoking like a professional.
"Must you go, Marinette?"
"I know how you feel, Adrien, but my coach is about to turn into a pumpkin."
The sense of fairy tale humor was coupled with Marinette's own kiss to Adrien's right hand. And no sooner was she out the door when Adrien spotted a piece of paper that she had written while he was eating the salad. It read:
"To make it count, meet me outside."
Adrien was alone at the table and he thought it was best to see what other tricks Marinette had up her sleeve to bring his night to an exciting conclusion. He left the table and he found Marinette standing in front of the stairs just as the note promised him.
She slowly turned her body towards him and then she asked.
"So do you wanna to go to a real party?"
A large party was taking place in the third class dining room, with Ivan leading the impromptu band on fiddle, accordion, violin, piano and tambourine. Alive with loud music, laughter, drinking, flirting, gaming and a test of talent, they kept the Celtic spirit intact with their way of culture and shipboard life. Alya found Marinette to be a stunning sight in her dress while she danced with Nathanaël after Alix was finished with her turn.
Mylène handed Adrien a pint of root beer and he hoisted it while two Russian passengers, Jakim Babeicz and Matthew Backa asked him if he spoke their language above the din, while Carolina Andersdotter asked him if he spoke Swedish. Adrien, surprised by the amount of foreign passengers in steerage, made a simple reply.
"I can't understand any of you."
He was lucky to have been taught the Chinese language as part of his educational studies. He would have loved to share some of his Chinese with Marinette, but she was too busy dancing the tarantella with Frank Hook.
Another song, "John Ryan's Polka" began with the stomping of ten footsteps before the rest of the music played, allowing Marinette to end her dance with Frank.
"I'm going to dance with him now, alright?"
Dragged from his chair, Adrien was locked into Marinette's arms. Despite several tales of dancing within the first class areas of any ship, it was considered improper for saloon passengers to dance in public, no matter how good they were. Adrien knew that he was in the right place, but was completely unprepared.
"I can't do this," he tried apologizing to Marinette.
But Marinette moved her right hand onto his left.
"Then we're going to have to get closer, like this."
She looked back at the boy who smiled when she said.
"You're still my best boy, Frank!"
"Thank you," Frank called back and he scampered off to dance with his sister.
Annie and Thomas Marsh danced to the steps of the sean-nós, Marinette watching them as Adrien looked over his left shoulder.
"I don't know the steps of that one."
"Just follow me and you'll go with it. Don't think."
They started slow at first, then when the band picked up a chord, they got the hang of it. Marinette went solo, tapping her feet to the traditional riverdance. Adrien copied the steps, then again as the others cheered for this new professional. Then they locked their hands together and spun around the fray, faster, faster and faster until they came to a jerk. A stupefied Adrien, more dizzy from the spin than Marinette, cobbled over to the nearby table like a drunkard.
In the Reading and Writing Room, located on A-Deck near the Grand Staircase, Chloé and the Hickson sisters were picking up from dinner about their discussion on fashion. The room was quiet compared to the party going on four decks below, the presence of upper class women providing a lifeless quality of typical rich snoots who had their noses so high up in the air, that they would get sick of being conditioned within the luxurious walls. But none of them minded, and neither did Chloé, who looked at the clock on the bookshelf.
"I'd better check on Adrien."
She was about to leave, but was stopped by Sabrina, her face meek with regret after curiously following the said boy to third class.
"I do not think you will like this," she cringed.
Chloé was in no mood for patience.
"Whatever it is, just take me to him."
And she stormed out of the reading room, the Hickson sisters taken aback by her presumptuous display.
Back in the dining room, Alix was in the middle of a wrestling match between herself and sixteen year old Kahraman Petronsian as Michael Doyle handed Adrien's pint of root beer back to him. Marinette grabbed fresh one from nearby and took a swig. She looked over and stared at Adrien gulping down the last drop.
"What? You think a first class boy can't drink?" he asked as the effects of the alcohol burned in his throat.
Theodore Diamandis, a Greek, had been spinning so much from the dance that he bumped into Adrien, spilling some of Marinette's root beer onto his suit. The Greek man excused himself in his native language and collapsed to the floor, out cold with his eyes closed.
By then, Kahraman had gained the upper hand on Alix's match, but she wasn't about to accept defeat. Her left fist pounded the table in a furious chant.
"Come on! Two more!"
She made two fingers in her right hand, believing that the young Mr. Petronsian did not understand English. Adrien took a fresh cigarette from the ash tray on the table and took a whiff with a presentation of his boastful personality. Having seen the ballet Giselle encouraged him to become a dancer, but his father was against the notion seeing his son act like a young lady in a tutu skirt with no mature quality. Pushing it into the dark caverns of his mind, he though that now seemed like the best time to show off.
"So! You think you're all big and tough? Let me see you do this."
He removed his coat jacket and handed it to Marinette. The floor was firm and he assumed a ballet stance, arms raised and taking every muscle of his toes at an incredible control of pace. Slowly but surely, he felt himself rise like the angels of above granting peace to the wounded soldiers on the front. But as if he were shot by the enemy, his closed eyelids dared themselves not to open until finally, his front toes began to burn.
"Ow!" he added with a laugh.
Marinette caught him as he lost his balance, and everyone cracked up. Katherine Coughlin, however was appalled, if not shocked in spite of her husband John's hilarious reaction to the scene as she uttered.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What a display!" she cried, covering her baby Jeremiah's eyes.
"Are you all right?" Marinette asked him.
"I'm fine," Adrien confessed. "I never knew I could do that."
From the entrance came Chloé and Sabrina on the warpath. Several of the passengers stared at either her beauty or her enraged face, taking little notice of Sabrina.
"Cooo, looks like we've got a furie in here!" shouted seven year old Leonard Goodall.
His parents laughed at his naivety but Chloé was not laughing at all when she saw Adrien with Marinette, laughing and holding each other in the time of their lives.
It was sadly interrupted, however, when Chloé grabbed Adrien's right elbow and took him away with sweet, yet sour tone of a motherly reminder.
"All right, party's over! Time for bed, Adrihoney!"
"But-"
Adrien could not control his body as his viewpoint saw himself being dragged away from Marinette, who stared back, helpless, but understanding that he couldn't stay in her world too long. With quick thoughts, she found the nerve to go after him, but he was gone. Back to his world. A world that would be disrupted by the forces of darkness and dragged under to the very bottom where the devils from the deep resided...along with hers.