Chapter 2: Something Different
This chapter is in honour of Father Francis Browne who is the man who recorded the only known pictures of life on Titanic. Although his interactions with my character are fictional, he was, in fact, a real person and a lucky man to have survived the disaster. He spent the rest of his life doing Titanic-themed talks and was also a war hero. The message he got in this chapter from his superiors was real, I just exaggerated the timeline so it could give an ominous feeling for my character. RIP Father Browne and thank you for sharing yours and all the passengers' stories through your photos.
The cabin is small, but snug, perfect for a family of three. The couple comes in from the chilly upper deck. Emma puts Sybil in her cradle and gives her some toys to play with as they settle in. Peter opens his suitcase and opens the new chest of drawers to put his things in.
"Beautiful isn't it?" Peter says.
Emma smiles. "Just perfect."
"And we'll be the first ones to sleep in this cabin!"
The room is quite beautiful, two beds stacked on top of each other to create bunks on one side of the cabin with a curtain to separate the beds and the rest of the room for privacy. Despite being provided with two beds, Emma and Peter preferred to share; despite how scandalous it sounded by not being married. There is a couch stuffed with what felt like feathers along the opposite wall, with small porthole windows behind it to show the vast horizon on the starboard side of the ship. There is a small cradle next to a beautifully carved wooden desk, something that might come in handy when Emma has to do paperwork. There are double sinks and a washtub between the bed and couch and a screen for changing behind. It wasn't home, but it would be okay.
Emma sits at the desk, opening her sketchbook, she begins outlining the room in pencil, trying hard to concentrate. Peter comes over, kisses her and then lays down on the bed.
"Feels so new and fresh," he says with excitement. He stretches out on the bed, over the clean sheets and hand knitted quilt and sighs with content.
Emma sighs and tries to smile. She kicks her bag over, trying to concentrate and ends up feeling more distressed and unhappy than before.
Peter rolls over, ready for a nap.
"I'm going up on deck for some fresh air," Emma says. She takes her notepad and pencils with her.
"Okay." Peter murmurs. "Be careful."
Emma shuts the door and starts heading in the direction from which they had come earlier from the send-off. The place looks so new and clean, she's afraid her sadness will taint the welcoming and warm environment.
She passes a few people walking along to who knows where their excitement clearly expressed all over their faces. Emma wishes she felt that way right now, but her dream still haunts her. A sudden flash of the entire hall being underwater caused her to jolt and search frantically for open air. The halls seem to be closing in on her, filling with seawater and she begins to run to escape. She passes a few people who look at her like she's insane, but at this point, she just needs fresh air.
Emma comes out on deck and sighs with some relief. That nightmare has really gotten to her, too much it seems.
It's just a stupid dream. Emma groans. But then why does it seem so real?
She walks along the lower-class deck, passing some of the lifeboats as she goes.
Many other people are on deck by now, exploring the magnificent ship and enjoying the afternoon air. Some of the passengers sit on deck chairs with rugs over their legs to prevent the chilled air from ruining their leisure time. Several children run along the deck, playing with their toys as their parents chase after them. Emma can't help but smile at the little ones laughing and playing. She tries to imagine when Sybil was going to be like at that age. Her tiny feet beating along the ground, her small skirt and blonde locks flowing behind her as she ran to catch up to whatever she was after.
She'll be hard to catch that's for sure, the big sister grins to herself.
Emma grabs a deck chair and positions herself to get a better view. She spots a man and his son playing with a top nearby. Inspired, she grabs a pencil and opens to a fresh page. The little boy looks mighty intrigued by the small plaything and once the top runs its course, he winds it up again. His father watching his son the entire time, a smile of approval on his face.
Suddenly, a strange noise comes from behind. Emma looks up to see a man snapping a photograph of the playful scene as well.
"Beautiful day." the clean-shaven man says with a grin. "Figure it's best not to waste it."
The man looks down to examine what Emma is sketching, but she only has the outline of the bodies done.
"Another great way to capture memories," he smiles, showing a toothy grin. "Little old fashioned, but whatever floats yer boat."
"That's right," Emma says. "Some people just have an eye for taking the time and seizing the moment."
"And others walk right past huh?" the man adds in agreement.
"Sad isn't it?" Emma says.
"Quite." the man nods. "In today's day and age, everything needs to be bigger and faster. It's the thrill of the run it is"
"Yes." Emma sighs.
"Especially with those new-fangled cars. Darn that Henry Ford; soon everyone will own one of those things and all our legs will fall off from lack of use." the man grumbles.
"I hope not," Emma says. "My sister hasn't even used them yet."
"Keep her away from the cars then..." the man smiles.
He looks up with his camera and pauses. "Look up there." he raises his camera up towards the sky.
Emma squints in the afternoon sun to where the man is pointing. Sure enough, another, more elderly man in a dark hat and sailor's outfit with a white beard pokes his head out from the upper decks and peers around at the scenery.
"Is that the captain?" Emma asks in amazement.
"Sure is, it's his last voyage before he retires." the man says, his camera making a clicking noise. "Read it in the newspapers I did. Watch fast little lady, this may be your only chance to spot him."
"Are you here for the entire voyage?"
"Gracious me no," the man says, lowering his camera. "I'm just going to Queenstown. From there I'm off to the Jesuit monastery. I was offered a chance to sail to New York, but my associates told me to stay in Queenstown. GET OFF THAT SHIP-PROVINCIAL was the message. Oh, the folks in the monastery, how they love to praise God and keep to the rules."
"You're a priest?" Emma asks.
"Why yes I am." the man holds out his hand. "Father Francis Browne, it is a pleasure to meet you."
"Emma Carson," she says, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Pleasure is all mine my dear and now if you'll excuse me I must be off. God bless you my child on your voyage."
"Thank you and God bless you too."
"May your voyage be a safe and prosperous one."
Emma waves as the father disappears as he walks away. She then turns back to draw the father and son, only find them gone. Sighing, Emma turns the deck chair around and stares out at the sea. Crisp and dark blue against the sky, it seems that the horizon line goes on forever. It was a vast and beautiful sight that gave Emma some inspiration.
"No wonder they once thought the world was flat," Emma mutters
She starts to sketch the lifeboats as the sun begins to sink lower, towards the horizon. She decides to go inside and call it a day.
She does feel a little better, having met someone quite nice and actually seeing the captain of the ship, but sadness came back again as it often did.
Emma and Peter take Sybil to the second-class dining hall with all the fancy cutlery and china. The meal is quite delicious and simply done. Emma did her best to mingle with the other passengers, who coo, smile, and fawn over her baby sister, but she still feels down. Sometimes it was so frustrating to be put through such hardships and everyone expects you to still try and be happy. The loss of her parents was like a poison or an evil animal, something that tainted her life, consumed her completely and crept up on her when she tried to be happy. She envied her sister quite a lot, her being too young to have everything dumped on top of you and not to remember parents that loved you.
Peter and Emma decide to call it a night since Sybil is getting sleepy. The couple feeds her, tucks her into bed, and Emma decides to stay up and read while Peter goes off to explore the ship on his own.
Emma tries to read her book, but the sadness hung over her like a dark cloud. She decides she just tired and despite the nightmares, the dreadful feelings of loss often faded in the night, making her feel a little more comfortable, at least, enough to sleep.
Emma rolls over to douse the lamplight and the ship's horn goes off in the night. A chill goes down her spine as she turns out the light.