Chapter 9
Tommy
Somewhere in the Atlantic
April 12, 1912
Tommy immediately regretted inviting this Scottish teenager to a card game the moment they began to play. The boy was an experienced player, even more so than Jack who had won his ticket on Titanic in a game of cards just days before. Tommy, Jack, Fabrizio, and young Callen were sitting at a small table in the covered seating area all hunched over, studying their cards carefully. Callen seemed to be the only one who was in a pleasant mood, the others annoyed they were losing to a thirteen year-old.
"Does your stepma know ya play so well?" Tommy asked, throwing down his cards in defeat as Callen revealed the straight flush in his hands.
"It's probably better she doesn't," Jack said, clearly frustrated as well. "Don't make a habit of gambling. You're too young."
Callen smirked. "She'll never know. She hardly pays any attention to me these days."
"That's not what it looked like to me," Tommy said, leaning back in his chair. He couldn't help but come to the defense of that young woman. Besides, there was something in this boy's demeanor that made him seem naturally mischievous.
"Your father looks out for you, no?" Fabrizio said, taking off his hat and throwing it on top of his own cards. "My own mamma died when I was young and my father remarried when I was still a boy. To this day, I never got along well with the woman."
Callen grew silent, his face serious as he slumped back in his chair. "Not anymore. He's dead."
Tommy, Jack, and Fabrizio all looked at each other in silence. "Hey, I'm real sorry Callen," Jack said, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "How long ago was it?"
Callen shrugged. "Five months."
Tommy could feel his heart sink. The poor boy must be an orphan, like himself. But Tommy had at least his older brother to take care and raise him.
"So what brings you on the Titanic?" Tommy asked, doing his best to try and lighten the subject. "Are you going to start a new life in America?"
Callen scoffed. "My stepma would love nothing less, but her father is trying to get his hands into my family's money now that my father's dead. He wants us to move back in with him and teach me how to play the violin like my Uncle Jock."
"Uncle Jock?"
Callen's eyes lit up at the name. "He's the reason we're here. He's in the band and decided to take my stepma, his sister, along. She brought me, my half-sister, and our maid too."
"Now, that doesn't sound like she doesn't care for ya," Tommy said, giving him a small smile. He had seen how Nellie was a warmhearted person from the way she'd come to Tommy's rescue in Queenstown.
Callen shrugged again before collecting his cards on the table and beginning to shuffle them. "Another game?" he asked.
Just as Tommy was about to try and talk Callen out of playing another round, a lanky figure that clearly did not belong in steerage appeared beside their table.
"Uncle Jock!" Callen cried, leaping up from his seat.
The lanky man removed his hamburg from his head, revealing a mop of light brown hair. His gray eyes were playful and he wore a boyish smile as if he didn't have a care in the world.
"And what do we have here?" the man said, eyeing the playing cards in Callen's hands. "I hope my sister doesn't know you've been pawning these men every penny they've got."
"You won't give me away," Callen said with a smile. "You're the one who taught me how! Uncle Jock, these are my new friends."
"I certainly hope they're still your friends after your card game," he said, turning to the three men. "The name's Jock Law Hume."
They all made introductions and Jock seemed genuinely interested in who they were and why they were aboard Titanic.
"So this is your uncle the musician?" Jack said.
"Sure is," Callen said. "He's performed for the richest men all over the world!"
Jock burst out laughing. "You're going to give these men a wrong impression of me. I do what I have to to make a living."
"Must be nice though to get to experience first class," Tommy said, unable to hide a twinge of jealousy in his voice. "Is down in steerage can only imagine the luxuries upstairs."
Jock gave another chuckle. "It certainly puts me out of my comfort zone at times. Speaking of which, Callen, my sister sent me down here to get you fitted into some of my old tails. We've been invited to dine in first class tonight."
Callen let out a groan. "Must I? I don't understand all those rules they follow with their too-small jackets and stiff collars. I'll barely be able to hold my fork while being restrained like that."
Jock waved away his concerns. "It's not every day the band gets invited to dine in first class on The White Star Line. I'd like to enjoy a few free glasses of the finest champagne both sides of the Atlantic have to offer, thank you very much."
"Go on boy-o," Tommy said, grabbing Callen's collar and hoisting him to his feet. "Any of us here would gladly take your place, stiff collar and all."
Callen looked annoyed at Tommy siding with his uncle, but gave a weak smile and began to follow Jock back to the second class decks.
"Oh, and Callen," Tommy called after them, causing the pair to turn around, "Go easy on your stepma tonight, will ya? I'm sure she's doing her very best."
Callen didn't respond, even seemingly choosing to ignore Tommy had said anything at all, continuing on without even waving goodbye.
"I didn't expect you to be so soft," Jack said to Tommy when they had ascended back upstairs.
Tommy shrugged. "I feel sorry for him, but he should be grateful to have someone to look after him. His stepma seemed nice enough."
"Ah, I see," Fabrizio said, picking up his cap and twirling it with one finger. "You've met her. È una bella donna, no?"
Tommy felt his ears burn. Even though he didn't speak Italian, he understood the question. "She's the reason I made it on board. A bloody health inspector was trying to prevent me comin' aboard before she stepped in."
"So you're using her stepson to get close to her?" Jack said, playfully punching him on the shoulder.
"Stop worryin' about me," Tommy grunted, shoving his hands in his pockets. "He seemed a nice enough lad and I could tell there was tension between them, so I invited him for a game of cards. That's all."
"So there's someone back home?" Fabrizio couldn't help but giggle as he spoke. "Or someone waiting in America?"
The thought of Cara made Tommy's face fall slightly. They'd spend a fun winter together and Tommy had even asked her to come to New York with him, but she had refused. Her family lived in Belfast and she didn't want to leave them behind.
"Besides," she had said on their last night together in Tommy's flat, tangled underneath the sheets. "I want to stay here to see if your boys in Dublin will pull off the revolution after all."
"What about your first class girl?" Tommy asked Jack, desperate to change the topic. "Have ya given up on yer fairy tale?"
"Oh, not yet," Jack said, lighting a cigarette and letting out a long stream of smoke. "I'll find a way to meet her, don't you worry."
Tommy began to shuffle the deck of cards for a new game when he felt a thud on the deck floor. He looked down to see that his pocket watch had become disconnected from its chain. He scooped it up, trying to put it back in his vest when Fabrizio grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
"Say, that's nice," Fabrizio said, turning Tommy's wrist so he could see the watch better. "Where did you come across this?"
"I didn't come across it," Tommy said, pulling his hand away. "It was me grandfather's. Probably the only thing of value I own."
Jack whistled. "You lucky bastard. I wish my parents had left me something pretty like that when they'd died. I wouldn't of had to pay my way quite so much."
"I'm not going to use this to pay my way," Tommy scoffed. "This was given to my da who gave it to my brother who gave it to me."
"Did your fratello give it to you before leaving for America?" Fabrizio asked, still admiring the watch.
"No," Tommy said, unable to stop the ice in his voice. "He gave it to me when he was bleeding out on the streets of Dublin."
There was a tense silence that followed. There was something ironic in the grim nature of the topic at hand yet being surrounded by happy chatter from other steerage passengers. Jack took another drag of cigarette before finally saying, "What happened?"
Tommy looked at the two strangers before him. Little did they know just how difficult this conversation was. This was something he had kept to himself for twelve years, letting his sorrow eat him from the inside out. Even Cara, who had been so supportive of Irish independence, had been in the dark when it came to Tommy's hatred of the English monarchy.
"Me brother took care of me after me mum and da died," he said at last. Jack offered him a cigarette which he accepted gratefully. He took a moment to let the smoke settle his nerves, clearing his head and calming his shaking hands. "He'd always been a revolutionary, something he'd gotten from me grandda. I don't remember much about my parents, but I do remember the late night arguments between me da and brother over it."
Jack and Fabrizio were unmoving, enthralled by his story.
"One day when me brother and I were coming home from an IRA meeting, we were stopped on the streets by an English soldier. I was only seventeen and had been lookin' fer a fight with the English for a long time. I was convinced I could gain Irish independence all by meself, and what a damn fool I was. I threw a couple o' punches before me brother stopped me. He was thirteen years older than meself and had seen what these soldiers had done to the IRA's boys over the years. The soldier was going to arrest me when me brother reached into his coat pocket for this very watch, to try and bribe the soldier to let me go. But the soldier had thought he was reaching for a weapon and shot him dead."
Tommy's voice caught in his throat and he looked away, feeling his eyes begin to sting. He took another long drag of his cigarette, taking much longer to collect himself this time.
"The soldier just left him there." His voice shook ever so slightly. "The last thing my brother gave me was this watch."
Jack had been watching him intently this whole time, his eyes filled with concern. "Tommy, I'm really sorry. It's beautiful, and I'm sure it'll be passed down to many more little Ryans for years to come."
"Yes, to your little American babies," Fabrizio said with a smirk.
The tension broke at this statement and sent all three into a fit of laughter. They settled into another game of cards and Tommy felt his heart was much lighter. He had been so alone since the death of his brother, giving up his membership in the IRA, barely scraping by with any work he could find, and unable to make friends trying to keep himself afloat. He absentmindedly brought his hand to his chest, where the watch was now concealed once more, and smiled at the thought of what his brother would say seeing him sailing across the Atlantic on the greatest ship in the world.
Just a disclaimer, I'm a big Downton Abbey fan so some of his backstory is based LOOSELY around Tom Branson. :)
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