Ship of Dreams

The day was dim and dull. The fog of the sea had rolled in and covered everything with a thick wetness. It left a feeling that all good in the world was hiding away. It was fitting scene for the drama Eliza felt in her heart.

Kneeling at the Southampton Inn window, she peered out at the misty, hidden world, dreading the next weeks journey. Ever since she was a little girl, she had had horrible nightmares about sinking into dark cold water. Because of them, all her life, she avoided traveling on open sea. A self-professed land lubber, she was thoroughly content never setting foot on a sea faring vessel. Now, certain circumstances had brought her here, to do what she had sworn never to do.

The long passage across the Atlantic Ocean was the only way to rejoin her family. They had gone over to America months ago, procured work, a home, and the means to send her a ticket to finally join them. She was desperate to see them again. It had been such a long time!

Staying with boarders had been tough. She had desperately requested to be able to finish her last school year. It was a rare opportunity to graduate, and she had worked so hard on her studies. Her family had been resistant, but eventually agreed. Now, Eliza was elated at the thought of being together with her family again, despite the dread of sea seafaring. She had chosen this. If only there was another way...

The letter mother included with the ticket had stated father booked her passage on a floating city called the Titanic. A newly built marvel, from the White Star Line, claiming to be the largest ship in the world. Her mother empathized her fear of water and Eliza knew she was trying to comfort her and assure that she would be safe.

For the whole month after the ticket had arrived, Eliza tried focusing on her joy of reuniting with her loved ones. She ignored the growing dread of sailing. It had not worked. The worry had become so intense it made her physically sick. She could barely eat or sleep. Renewed nightmares tormented her every time she closed her eyes, bringing her awake with a scare and a memory of sinking into the black depths of a frozen sea. She had lost so much weight her boarders had pressed her to see a physician. After cautiously confessing what ailed her, the doctor pronounced it was a nervous condition due to stress of school and separation from family. He was certain the symptoms would disappear once she had completed her journey and rejoined her loved ones. Eliza was not so sure.

A knock on the door brought Eliza out of her brooding thoughts, startling her.

“Yes?” Eliza called.

“Ma’am?” a marbled voice called from behind the wooden door. “I’ve come to escort you and your luggage to the ship.”

“Yes, of course. Just a moment,” Eliza responded.

After another long look in the mirror, straightening her bangs, and wiping newly damp beads of nervousness away, she re-positioned her hat, took a deep breath, and opened the door wide. A young man with broad shoulders and a pleasant smile patiently awaited.

“Boarding pass?” the young man inquired.

Pulling a wallet from her handbag, she handed the document to the gentleman. He copied information from the paper to tags and labeled the baggage, as she tried to steady her breathing.

“Ready?” he politely asked.

“I am,” Eliza answered bravely, even though she was not. Her heart was pounding with fear.

The man handed back the wallet, loaded the baggage onto a rolling cart, and headed down the hallway.

“Right this way, please,” he said. Eliza fell in behind him, holding her head high and trying not to cry.

The entire way to the loading dock seemed to take an eternity even though it was only a short walk. Early morning had passed, but the heavy fog still lingered, hiding everything on the busy streets in eerie obscurity. Eliza was glad for the fog hiding her away. She put one foot in front of the other, trying to keep her panic in check.

When the ship came into view, Eliza missed a step, stumbling down on her knees. Staring up at the unbelievably large vessel, shining like a new coin, something familiar and menacing about the massive striped funnels reaching into the sky made her blood run cold. There was four! From her knowledge, no passage ship ever had that many. It could not have been something she had seen before in person. Her dreams! A visual from her dreams, suddenly and vividly, passed through her mind. Four faint funnels in the fog...

Eliza was still gazing horror struck up at the maiden ship when the porter lightly touched her elbow. She then realized she was still on her knees and shaking.

“Ma’am? Are you all right? You took quite a spill. Sorry about that. Must have been a loose board. Here, let me help you up,” he offered. He presented his hand and helped Eliza to her feet again.

Straightening her dress, Eliza thanked the man for his help but still stood staring at the ship unable to tear her eyes away from the outline of the four tunnels soaring high above. She struggled to dismiss the scare. Maybe she was just feeding her fear as the doctor had suggested. Unconvinced, Eliza had goosebumps from head to toe.

“She is a beauty, Ma’am,” the porter hesitantly stated in his thick accent.

Undoubtedly, the ship was beautiful in its own way, but at that moment it seemed sinister. It was indeed the largest ship she had ever seen. So very many people, like ants in a line, laughing and excitedly talking, were slowly climbing the boarding bridges and gawking at the grandeur. They were filling up the spaces along the decksand watching others do the same. There was such a commotion! However, Eliza was not giddy and excited. She was frightened. So frightened she could barely breathe.

After waiting a moment, the porter spoke again, “Are you sure you are OK, Ma’am? I can fetch the doctor if needed.”

Eliza, realizing people were starting to watch her and having no time to contemplate the ill-timed flash back, glanced at the man, attempted to smile, and answered, “No, thank you. I am fine. Just a little tired. Please, continue.”

Pausing a moment to assure his patron was able to follow, he declared, “Your second-class ticket has you entering on the C-deck, Ma’am. This way.”

Eliza followed weakly as the man navigated her and her luggage towards the back of a growing line. It was orientated at the bottom of a gangway labeled C-deck. It was astonishing how many people were loading! Even though the departure was not until 12pm, she had scheduled to arrive hours early to hopefully skip the waiting. Obviously, most everyone else had as well.

When it was Eliza’s turn to board, she showed her ticket, had her name recorded, and started making her way up the gangway onto the deck. Her legs were like lead, resisting each step. She fought the urge to turn and run back down the planks to the safety of land.

Finally, making it aboard, Eliza stopped short as she heard a girl crying out.

“Mo-ther!”

The cry was shrill and mournful. Looking towards the sound, Eliza seen a girl standing aside from the ramp. The girl was searching in all directions, pleading for her mother. She had already begun womanhood but looked small and scared.

“Moooth-eeerrrr?” the girl hysterically wailed.

It pulled at Eliza. Everyone else were walking past without so much as a nod towards the distraught youth. Feeling deep sympathy for the girl, she made her way over, bent down, and spoke.

“Are you lost? Let me help you find your mother,” Eliza soothingly announced. She reached out to pat the girls arm in sympathy but pulled back in shock when the touch was cold as ice.

The girl did not hear or look at her but turned in the same direction without seeing. Eliza froze. The girl’s face was pallor. The eyes were frantically searching from dark hollows and water dripped from her chin and nose. The girl was dripping wet and continued crying uncontrollably. This girl was not alive.

As Eliza started to move back, the girl called out again, in a more childlike exasperation, “Mommmmy?!”

Whimpering and stepping forward, the specter passed right though Eliza as if she wasn’t there. Alarmed, she turned to see where the girl could have gone, but the anguished wraith was gone.

On the deck, in the sun, a small pool of water reflected an outline of funnels in the sky. Eliza stood terrified staring at it. She had no idea what to do.

With forced politeness, the porter again announced loudly, “This way, please, Ma’am.”

Eliza looked up into his puzzled face. He was studying her with a look of open perplexity. He had not seen a thing.

“Yes, of course,” Eliza answered. She glanced over the deck, toward the docks. She felt an overwhelming urge to be back on them. The footman stood another moment looking baffled, then turned and led a path along the deck. He went down a flight of main stairs to the level below, through a maze of halls, to a narrow door and stopped.

After a few uneasy minutes, a steward appeared, smiling, arranging a ring of keys, and opened the door. Then, what should have been the most amazing thing, switched on an electric light. The fright from the encounter with the disappearing girl momentarily numbed any surprise Eliza could have felt. She only acknowledged it with a nod.

“If you need anything dearie, please, do not hesitate to ask,” the steward said and hurried off to open another door where a family was waiting patiently.

The porter quickly carried in the luggage, sat it near the bedside, and implored, “Enjoy the maiden journey of the Titanic, Ma’am!” Taking one last suspicious glance at Eliza, he tipped his hat and briskly left.

After all the noise and movement, the sudden dead silence was heavy and unexpected. Shaking, Eliza promptly closed the door, removed her hat, and sat down upon the bed. Attempting to distract herself from the discomfort, she tried admiring the spacious and lovely cabin. It had oak paneling painted a glossy white, linoleum floors, and mahogany furniture consisting of a set of bunk beds, a large sofa, wardrobe, and even a dressing table with washbasin, mirror, and storage shelves. It all seemed so fine and lavish, it thoroughly unnerved her even more. It was in such contrast as to how she was feeling! Was she going mad? She tried to calm her worries by reminding herself of the conversations with the doctor. She also recalled overhearing people referring to the Titanic as an unsinkable ship. She reminded herself that such a marvel had never been built! Then, how did people seem so sure it could not sink?

With almost two hours to spare before departure, and needing something to keep her busy, Eliza unpacked her traveling bags. She slowly arranged her things onto the shelves and organized her clothing in the wardrobe. She studied the diagrams of the different decks and associated herself with the designated second-class areas as best she could. She noted exits and where life jackets and boats were located. Then, choosing the bottom bunk, lied down to rest. With the face of the little girl hauntingly persistent in her head, she slipped into an uneasy slumber.

She woke to the soft sound of what seemed like singing but it was chaotic and out of tune. Sitting up and looking around, she was horrified to see the room was rapidly filling with water. She went to stand. When her feet touched the water, the frigid penetrating cold instantly numbed her to the bone. Almost paralyzed from the freezing temperature, she moved towards the door. Trivial things were floating in the water. A silver brush. A shoe. A lady’s fancy handbag. A child’s teddy bear. A photograph touched her leg. She grabbed at it and turned it over. There was the ghostly girl posing in a family portrait. Except they all wore the hollowed eyes and pallor skin. They were all wet and dead.

Eliza tossed the photograph down in horror and went for the door. She slung it open and was met with a cacophony of sound. The singing was not singing, it was people crying and screaming. It was coming from all directions at once. From men, women, and children at the same time. Deep and mournful, small and weak, high and pained. Murmurs of calming voices attempting to comfort loved ones could be heard, low and sorrowful. Panicked yelling of people trying to assert order pierced through the chaos in intervals. Subtly, through it all, was the faint sound of a violin playing the hymn “Nearer, My God, to Thee”.

Eliza jerked awake again and found herself in the tidy and still stateroom. Another nightmare? She had never had this one before! She breathed deeply, trying to compose herself. What did it all mean? Was she on a cursed ship? Her most horrible fear was coming to pass. She increasingly believed something had been warning her for her whole life about this specific occasion happening. It was real. Her mother and the doctor were wrong. She felt chilled even though the stateroom was quite warm.

Deciding to heed her feelings, Eliza hastily threw everything she had unpacked earlier back into the travel bags. She dashed back up a level to the promenade deck to disembark the ship, dragging her belongings along behind. She did not care who thought her crazy. She would return to the boarders and write mother to figure out what to do. Immediately, upon arrival in the open air, the ship jerked a little and started to move forward. Eliza whimpered. She was too late. No getting off now. Feeling faint and scared, she watched the shoreline shrink into the distance. Eerily, the wind seemed to sound like the girl calling for her mother.

Alone, overwhelmed, and frightened, Eliza settled stiffly down into one of the lounge chairs provided on the deck. People were looking at her and her accompanying baggage peculiarly wondering why it was piled messily beside her. She tried to calm her fears. She told herself she was just anxious. So many people would consider themselves lucky to be here! This is a ship of dreams!! Maybe she was overreacting? No matter what she told herself to think, the feeling of foreboding weighed down on her.

She spent the next several hours soaking up the afternoon sun. Occasionally, she would glance up to watch the faint blur of the land rise and sink, disappear and reappear, as the route followed parallel along the shore on the way to France. After the fresh air, Eliza felt a bit better. Since there wasn’t anything she could do at the moment, she tried focusing on seeing her family again. What would her mother and father think if she disembarked? How long would it be before they could afford to send her another ticket and would she even take that one? Was she abandoning her only chance to see her family again? There was only one way to get to America, and that was to sail across the Atlantic. She was determined to be brave! She had never been to France before. She was going to try her best to enjoy the travel experience and forget this madness. She knew that upon arrival in France, she would meet her roommate and hopefully would not be so lonely. She felt a bit embarrassed to have caused attention and chided herself silently for it. Mother would have been mortified.

Watching the ship arrive and port into French city of Cherbourg was beautiful. Eliza decided she would return her belongings back to the room and have it situated and tidy for the arrival of her bunk mate. As she began to collect her things anew, a crew member approached and asked if she could use help. She graciously accepted, presented her room number, and followed the attendant back down into bowels of the ship towards the reserved chamber. As she turned the last corner and headed down the appropriate hall, a flash of light caught her peripheral vision. When she turned to see, the ghostly girl stood looking her way. This time the expression seemed sad. She was sure it was looking directly at her. Blinking to clear her perception, Eliza looked again but only the wall was visible, and the apparition had gone.

The steward cheerfully greeted them at the door of the room.

“Oh, you came back! Let me get that for you,” she said, intentionally avoiding looking at Eliza. "I seen you rush out earlier, and I thought perhaps something was wrong. I locked the door behind you.”

Eliza answered timidly, “No. Thank you. I made a mistake.”

The lady smiled and opened the door, and flipped the light on, again.

The attendant returned the baggage to the room and, after a small nod, quickly left without another word. Eliza entered the room, again, and stood staring at the floor.

The steward gently cleared her throat. When Eliza looked up, the lady reminded her, “If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Then, she also left shutting the door behind her.

Eliza worked rapidly, returning her things to the wardrobe, and arranging things neatly on the shelves. When she was satisfied the room was orderly, she sat down at the desk to read quietly and await her roommate. Suddenly, the gnawing in her stomach reminded her she had not eaten since early morning. Recalling a dining room conveniently situated on the same level, she decided to go for a quick plate of food.

Before she made it to the dining area, the sound of a piano came drifting down the passageway. It was meant to be cheerful and welcoming, but it sounded forlorn and artificial. Entering through elegant doors, the large, fancy room, with mahogany furniture upholstered in crimson and design in tiles upon the floor, impressed Eliza. The aroma of delicious food made her stomach growl. As it was only another half hour till closing, she found an empty seat closest to the doors and situated herself in the comfortable chair. A waiter approached her and handed her a menu. It was all so extravagant, she momentarily forgot about her worries. Feasting on creamed rice, boiled potatoes, fried eggplant, and roast gosling in applesauce, she tried not to notice the small jerk as the ship started moving again heading back out to sea. Glancing at the grand clock along the far wall, she decided to head back to the room, meet her mate, and try to sleep. She chose a pear and apple to take along to offer to the new traveler that would sure be there.

Walking among the grand halls towards her room left her in awe. Every detail was refined and ornate. She hadn’t taken the time to really appreciate how stylish and luxurious the ocean liner was.

Arriving back at the room, full and in a much better mood, she returned the smile to the steward who came bustling over to open the door for her.

Noticing the smile, the steward cordially asked, “Enjoying the ship? I hope you are finding everything suitable.”

Eliza answered in kind, “Oh yes. I just had the most delightful meal.”

“That’s wonderful, dear,” the steward replied, turning the knob for Eliza to enter.

Thanking the lady for her kindness, Eliza proceeded in and shut the door behind her.

Upon entering, she seen a young lady dozing on the upper bunk. Her face hidden.

Not wanting to disturb her, Eliza moved deeper into the room and went to set the fruits on the desk. As she approached the desk, the girl stirred, opened her eyes, and sat up in acknowledgement.

When Eliza seen her face, she dropped the fruits, gasping out in surprise, “Oh!”

She was gazing into the face of the ghostly girl. Except this face was alive with shining eyes and pink cheeks. Eliza had no idea what to do except openly stare.

The girl was as surprised as she was and shyly spoke up in French, “Eh, Bonsoir Madame.”

The young lady retrieved the fruits from the floor and returned them to the desktop still obviously uncomfortable at the nontraditional meeting. Her eyes returned to Eliza questioningly.

Eliza, trying to hide her distress, forced a smile and attempted to communicate as to rectify the reaction. She recognized the girls French accent. “Bonjour. Mes excuses. Largage de fruits. Mon nom est Eliza.” Then added, “Je parle peu Français."

She silently thanked her mother for making her learn French basics.

The girl looked relieved and laughed shakily. She had thought Eliza mad.

She replied in broken English, “Fine. Fine. I can speak English if you like. My name is Aimee.” The girl laughed again. The sound was soft and pleasant, like tiny bells. Despite scaring the daylights out of her, Eliza immediately liked her.

The girl looked again at the fruits. Eliza encouraged her by saying, “Those were for you. I brought them from the dining hall in case you may be hungry. They were closing for the night as I was leaving. I hope the fruits aren’t ruined from dropping them.”

The girl responded, “Thank you. That is kind. My family and I have been traveling all day to make it to port in time to catch ship. I am famished.”

Then, she sat down at the desk and began peeling both the pear and bright red apple. When she finished, she retrieved a photograph from her bag and presented it to Eliza.

Eliza grudgingly looked at the photo. Sure enough, it was the girl posing in a portrait with her family. The same photo as in the dream from earlier, except all these faces were warm, alive, and happy. It didn’t scare Eliza but oddly made her feel incredibly sad. She subtly caught a tear roll down her cheek.

The girl explained that her family was elsewhere on the ship. They had reserved a cabin, but it was not big enough for all of them. They were staying in third class steerage and acquired her accommodations here since she was the oldest and could manage alone at night. The girl did not look a day over 13 but was dainty and proper.

While the girl was eating, Eliza made herself seem busy arranging her bags and changing into bed clothes. She desperately tried making sense of why the girl had appeared to her, dead and woeful. It could be only because this ship was doomed. She had dreamed of sinking into cold, dark water since she was a child. There had always been the faint shadow of another lost soul sinking down into the icy depths with her. A girl. Eliza was the oldest of four siblings, all brothers, so she always wondered who the mystery figure could be. Now, she knew.

There weren’t any more excuses to be made. Ever since the ticket had arrived, over a month ago, her nightmares had returned tenfold. The apparition appearing wasn’t meant to scare her. It was a premonition. A warning from a higher power she had not the understanding to reason. Did it matter if she understood why or what? Only that she did? The omens were strong and repeatedly implied that something tragic was going to happen to this ship. Intuition had been ringing warning bells in her head all along. Until the moment she caught sight of the funnels eerie, recognizable silhouette, it had all been unreal. Upon seeing them, she wanted nothing more than to turn around and run. The prospect of being with her family again had temporarily made her forget that she had sworn to heed the caution her heart had known all along.

Since seeing Aimee and realizing this was the figure who had filtered into her dreams all those times, Eliza could not neglect caution any longer. Reflecting on her all the collective experiences relative to this crucial juncture in time, Eliza finally and wholly believed. This was definitely real.

After the girl had finished her small meal, Eliza announced that it had been a long day and that she was going to turn in for the night. The girl agreed that she, too, was very tired. They exchanged pleasantries and went to bed.

Situating herself into her bunk, Eliza prayed to be safe till the morning and lay trembling till she fell off into a fitful sleep filled with renewed nightmares of frozen waters, crying children, screaming adults, and sinking into black water. However, this time, the figure with her wasn’t a shadow. It was clear, and it bore the face of her roommate. Newly haunting was that, at one point, she was trapped under a huge iceberg watching as person after person sank into the depths. They all gaped at her with hollow eyes and silent screams until they disappeared into darkness.

She rose extra early next morning, weary and disheartened, but thankful to still be on a floating ship. She was also determined to disembark whatever the consequences. Mother and Father would have to understand. Hopefully, she could find work and shelter. After that, she could figure out what to do next. She had a coin purse with enough in it to live off for at least a week. It would have to do. She wasn’t staying another day on this ill-fated vessel, and she didn’t care what she had to do or what anyone thought.

The ship had one more port of call before it set off towards its destination across the icy sea. It was scheduled to dock in Queensland, Ireland, shortly before noon. Eliza would be ready.

She collected her things from the shelving and wardrobe, repacking them neatly into her travel bags. As she was finishing up, Aimee roused from her bunk rubbing her eyes and smiling.

“Bonjour, madame!” the girl greeted.

The girl was well rested and very pleasant. If it weren’t for the dire circumstances, Eliza would have greatly enjoyed her company.

Eliza wanted to hug her and insist she come with her into Queensland and stay, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. Her family was on board and excited for their new lives. Besides, no one believe her.

So, instead, Eliza smiled back in greeting, and replied, “Good morning to you, too.”

The girl hurriedly dressed and prepared to meet her family in the third-class dining hall for breakfast. She was cheerful and chattering away about the splendor of the ship and how excited she was to see it. Eliza could only listen and nod in encouragement. She knew if she tried to talk, her voice would crack in sorrow. When ready, the girl told Eliza that she would be back after dinner and departed with a cordial French goodbye, leaving a small kiss on each cheek.

Eliza knew that she would never see her again. She now passionately believed everyone on the ship was destined for the bottom of the Atlantic. It was a dreadful thought but somehow one that couldn’t be avoided. How she wished it would turn out to be not true! She hoped she was mad! She would be happy for the rest of her days to be proven wrong.

After Aimee left, Eliza made her way to the dining hall just down the main corridor. She felt considerably better since making the decision to stay in Queensland. She once more admired the polished mahogany doors opening into the expansive, elegant hall. She appraised the fancy menu.

She dined decadently on fruit, boiled hominy, grilled ox kidneys and bacon, American dry hash au gratin, buckwheat cakes with maple syrup and marmalade, washing it all down with a most delicious tea. It was the best meal she had had in an exceptionally long time.

Surfacing on the promenade deck, Eliza made herself comfortable and watched the safety of shoreline come closer and closer till she could make out the city of which she would very soon be a part of. As the ship docked, she acquired a porter to fetch her waiting luggage and exited the ship with not so much as one look back. She entered the first welcoming inn that she came across and luckily found they needed help with the kitchen and rooms. Was it luck or destiny?

Eliza immediately sent a telegram to her family in New York assuring them she was OK but would not be coming at this time. She then penned and mailed a more detailed letter to explain.

It could be said that explaining was unnecessary…

Three days after leaving the Titanic, Eliza seen news that the unsinkable ship had struck an iceberg and sunk. She was heartbroken but not surprised. She had known all along somehow. There was over 2200 people aboard and only a little over seven hundred survived. She knew how horrible and tragic their deaths were. She had seen it over and over in her dreams.

Remarkably, the nightmares ceased the day she left the ship and never returned. Eventually, she earned enough money to book passage on another ship and crossed the Atlantic safely to happily rejoin her family.

Occasionally, she thought of the little French girl, flushed and cheerful. She thought of the warmth the girl left on both her cheeks the last time she saw her, and that is exactly the way Eliza wanted to remember her.