Ship Of Dreams

She became something magnificent. Something larger than the cold winter nights of April sprawling across the Atlantic and something smaller than the tiniest pebble of coal tucked in for a long sleep on the ocean floor.

She became real.

At first, she dotted the page in harsh black scratches. Rectangles intersected by swooping arcs and arrows. Little more than shapes and curves dreaming of being the biggest luxury liner. A ship of dreams. She sat on the page, all eager ears and watchful eyes as her creator smiled down at her and whispered, You’ll be the ship of dreams.

Day in and out, he muttered about the world she would see, the things she would hear, and the adventures her hull would hold. When he closed the door and shut the lights off every night, she slept on the desk under a sea of possibilities.

Then, she was strapped together by strong hands and laughing men. Pieced together one sheet of metal at a time. The fuzzy outlines of reality joined hands and suddenly the sun shined upon her deck for the first time.

She soared through the waters with ease.

Leaving the scaffolding and memories of machinery behind her, she took her first breath of fresh air and cut through the blue waves of her world.

It was fresh and wonderful. Mystical and fantastical in a way she never expected. Every button on her surface glinted. Every porthole shone with the reflected ocean sun. The world was as wondrous as a mirage.

She was the ship of dreams.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“This old girl-”

“Why are ya callin’ her old girl? She’s brand new, this one.”

Cold grey eyes slipped to the steel and wrought iron rivets buttoning the sheets of metal together. The paint was fresh. In the air, there was the barest hint of it still hanging around like the perfume of a familiar lover clinging to an old pillowcase. He dropped a hand to the ship. It warmed beneath his touch. In hours, he was sure the room would be sweltering but for now, the cool of the water pressed through the belly of the ship.

“No,” he said more to the ship than to the man. “She’s got an old spirit this one.”

“Absolutely crazy. You know that? Yer absolutely mad.”

A distant humming vibrated beneath his palm. “As mad as the world’ll let me get, Davis. Can’t be crazy in a crazy world.”

“Ya sure can be. Ah, shoot.” A stream of curses fell from his lips. “I’m late already. Promised Dan I’d switch shifts with ‘im.” John rolled his eyes. If Davis was one thing, it was perpetually late and constantly trying to help others. A nasty little cocktail. “Button up ‘ere for me?”

“You’ll owe me.”

“I’ll snag a slice o’ cake from the first-class dinin’ area.”

“Not even you are that stupid,” John said as he turned his back to hide his growing smirk.

“I think I’ll surprise you yet.”

The clatter of his heavy boots bounding up the metal ladder to the upper floor echoed in John’s ears.

The Titanic’s crew is a well-oiled machine, each individual carrying out their task in full. He huffed to himself as he mimicked the voice of their superior. The only advantage this crew had over any other, was the pressure the beautiful ship exuded.

It was easy to work for a marvel like this one.

Titanic. His palm pressed now against the steel guardrail preventing him from toppling off his high perch. Exceptional. Strong. The loveliest lady of the sea. It was cool and polished in his hand. Even the engine room was refined to the point of perfection. I’ve been on many ships, miss, but not a one as kind as you. He gave the railing a pat with a soft smile.

Walking away, he left to tend to Davis’s duties.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She was the ship of dreams.

Her floors were strong. The back of Atlas, they sprawled deck upon deck and took the plodding steps of sharp-shoed passengers with glee. This was life. This was living. The heartbeat of every passenger thumped through the metal walls, rattled through the decor imperceptibly as adrenaline and dreams fed the stars in their eyes. The stars in her eyes.

Raucous laughter in the lower cabins crept through her bones while the airy giggles of first-class slunk out the open windows and hovered around the ocean. She surged forward. Steam churned from her stacks as her bow reached toward the horizon, toward the promise of the future. She would take them to wherever they wanted to go.

She was their vessel and they, her passengers, a mother and her children.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

John lay awake.

Even this was refined. Like an elegant lady, John thought as he ran a finger across the textured lines of the wall. He removed his hand with a heavy sigh. The night was all wrong. Something dangerous and malicious stained the air with a bitter taste. The agitation rubbed under his skin. Ants itched at his feet until it was all he could do to restrain himself from running to the open air of the top deck and vaulting himself off into the ocean.

“You still up?” Davis whispered.

The crinkling of sheets followed John as he rolled over. Eyes as brown as summer earth looked down on him from underneath a heavily furrowed brow. Davis, still oblivious of personal space, was standing hunched over by the top of the bed, swaying slightly from side to side.

“It’s…it’s fine right?”

“What is,” John whispered back.

“The ship.”

John looked back to the porthole.

Black air, black sky, black water swallowed the light. The moon had vanished, leaving a trail of nervously shimmering stars the duty of lighting the sky. They weren’t doing their job well and the small puffs of clouds, invisible this far away from the reflection of civilization, covered up portions of what little light they were producing.

John looked down, staring at where he believed the line of the horizon sat.

“Nervous?” he asked.

Davis looked around at the other sleeping crew members on their bunks before shrugging and choosing to stare at his feet.

“Meet me in front of the smoke room in five, alright?”

Davis nodded emphatically and ducked off without making a sound.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was too dark.

There were nights in her history when the dark had plagued her.

Nights where she had sat buttoned up in a tube and discarded as a failed idea. A dream that would never come to fruition. Black inkblots had tumbled across her carefully penned lines and erased the idea that she could someday have a soul. Crumpled up in the dark trash bin, she wept silently in the dark of those nights.

There was the black abyss of those days shut inside the construction hanger. Voices raised to a crescendo around her as she trembled from the fear of being dismantled so close to tasting life as a ship. Men threatened men while workers packed their bags. They left her to the quiet darkness. Sitting alone with her deep, inconsolable fear.

The sunlight never held such terror to her.

As she crept across the icy North Atlantic, the old girl felt her old fear of the dark surface. There was no moon. The stars were dim and flickering. Not even Jupiter sat glowing in the sky. The Titanic was alone, traipsing through a dangerous leg and terrified.

She didn’t like the dark just as stars fear sunrise.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Why’re ya draggin’ me around at nearly midnight?”

“We still got almost thirty minutes,” John drawled as he silently descended the third staircase. “Besides, aren’t you the young one full of energy? If you had energy to run around stealing cake from first-class, you can stay up a few more minutes.”

“Was good though, wasn’t it?”

John bit back a smirk. It had been the best slice of cake he had ever eaten.

“Not half bad.”

“Not half bad? That was the dessert that had half o’ the first-class cryin’ it tasted so good. John, you are crazy if ya think it was not half bad.”

“Alright. It was the best piece of cake I’ve ever eaten including my wedding cake. Happy?”

Davis stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Extremely. Nearly lost my job for that one.”

“And you might yet.”

They walked along quietly. Something for which John was thankful. He wasn’t entirely sure how much longer he could maintain the “disappointed father” attitude toward Davis. The cake had been entirely too delicious for him to act angry long at all.

It was only when they neared the engine room that the younger engineer spoke.

“Why’d ya bring me here?”

“Always calms me down. Looking at a ship’s engines at night it’s…well it’s like looking at your kid when they’re asleep. Peaceful.”

Davis wrenched open the door and held it for John.

“I don’t have no kids. Yet. One’s on the way. Baby girl, I hear. Due in another month back in the States.”

“Congratulations. You’ll see what I mean then. Something special about it.”

Walking into the engine room, the two men stood near the top of the highest railing and peered down at the beating heart of the ship. John smiled at the old girl. He had worked on many ships in his long career but none as captivating as her. The Titanic.

“She’s a special one,” Davis said.

John nodded. Lowering himself to his forearms, he relaxed against the metal. It was always warm in the engine room. It took away some of the bite of the cold quarters. Out on the Atlantic at this time it was almost favorable to be an engineer since it meant heating up was easy. John carried the heat in his bones back to bed every night and slept soundly for it.

“Don’t think I’ve ever loved a ship as much as her,” John said. “She’s just…”

“Titanic?”

John laughed and the sound bounced down to some of the more idle men working. He gave a polite wave. “Well, yes. I was hoping to say something more eloquent.”

“Yer not in first class.”

“No. But you best treat your lady right. Every ship listens exactly to what is said about her and you don’t want to be hurting a lady’s feelings, do you?”

“Er…no.”

“I thought not.” He blinked down at the familiar comfort of the engine room. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Most gorgeous ship I’ve ever seen.” Minutes ticked by as the churning sounds of the Titanic’s heartbeat lulled John into a place of peace. After nearly two handfuls of ticking passed, Davis said, “It really is calmin’.”

John nodded thoughtfully. “Nothing quite like the tranquility of-”

He was cut off abruptly as bells began sounding and frantic voices started screaming. Shooting a look over to Davis who had gone incredibly pale, John listened helplessly as the engines screeched to a halt before churning backward.

“Come on,” he said, already storming down the stairs with Davis hot on his heels.

Two platforms down, the ship lurched as it released a painful wail. John fell to his knees. Davis tumbled to his back beside him.

“Oh God,” he whispered. “She hit something.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

When the iceberg had dug its knife into her side, she let out a keening wail. Water flooded her quickly, running like acid across her slashed side. It wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t cease no matter her begging. Ice rained across her deck and lodged itself in her belly.

The pain would sink a lesser ship.

But she was the Titanic. The powerful ship of dreams.

She would not fall. She refused to fall. The souls on board were her responsibility. As she looked across the vast Atlantic, she vowed to keep them safe.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They had been working for ten minutes when water started to flood the room. Panic never had time to ensue. Instead, John had grabbed Davis by the collar and hauled him up to the top of the space all but shoving him out the door.

“C’mon John. This ain’t the time to-”

“Go! You need to leave. I’m not…I’m not going. They need me down there.”

Davis looked at him, mouth hanging open in shock. For a fleeting moment, John felt nothing but pity swallow his heart. Davis was young, strong, loyal, and scared of anything that moved. A worry-wort. He had a wife, a baby on the way that he hadn’t yet held, and a house he was paying for with this job. Dreams larger than life filled his blood. He’d wanted to be an artist someday. John wanted him to have that someday. The someday he was no longer going to get.

John looked down at the crystal water pouring through the far end of the room. From this height, all the other engineers looked like ants scurrying around carrying seeds.

“They need me. You go,” he reassured. “It’ll be fine.”

The blond mop of hair retreated.

Before he could look back to the water sloshing around the other engineers' ankles, the fear-stricken face returned. “Listen, yer not…crazy.”

“No?”

“No,” he screamed over the sound of inner ship rapids and yelling. “Just brave. Brave as they come.”

Rushing water echoed through the massive room making it difficult to hear but a compliment that size would have been impossible to miss. John held it carefully in his mind like he had once held the image of his child being born.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seein’ ya.”

Lifting a trembling hand, John waved with a grim smile. “Be seein’ ya,” he whispered to the open space above as Davis vanished.

“I’m sorry,” John whispered to the metal railing once again in his palm. “I’m so sorry, old girl.” He ran a hand through his damp blond hair. “You never deserved this. Never, never, never.” Tears pricked his eyes like acid as he walked over to the metal wall and placed his hands on her. “Not for being a ship of dreams, old girl. Not for that.”

“I can’t.”

The voice was sharp but not as sharp as the familiar sound of someone descending the service steps.

“Davis!”

“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I’ve got to help them too.” John opened his mouth but Davis fervently shook his head, brown eyes crinkling in apparent pain. “I’ve got to.”

“Alright. Then let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She was cold.

Groaning and creaking with every drop that slipped inside her.

A massive shiver raced through her hull as another compartment filled to the brim with ice water. It was too much, too overwhelming. The heat emanating out of the coal rooms and boilers and the reciprocating engines, the very heart of her body, was flushing cold with panic and stuttering to a stop.

She moaned in horror at the small pitter-patter of brave feet deep in her belly keeping the light twinkling in her eyes and the distress call fresh on her tongue.

Steam escaped and cracked her gentle facade. Rivets tumbled through the dark waters. Furniture floated. Lights flickered and screams filled her cabins.

Another tremble wobbled her from bow to stern but this time, it didn’t fade. She was tipping. Off-balanced and suffocating on her own unseen dream of what she could have been, she stared down into the dark abyss of the Atlantic. It reflected back starry-eyed aspirations.

She had wanted to carry those souls to America. Dreamt of depositing them in the harbor where they could escape their troubles and start molding their new life as though it was fresh clay in their hands. She yearned in the shipyard to sparkle with new strength and glory all the way across the Atlantic with those precious bodies safe within her. More than anything, she wanted to give them all a story they could cherish for the rest of their lives. Give them a trip worth remembering and smiling back on in their old age.

It wasn’t going to happen.

The black water rippled as she began to sink. Shivering and crying starlight, she blinked and the lights went out.

On the moonless night, of April 15th, the old girl felt scared.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The lights extinguished.

Not a single one of the twenty-five engineers made a sound. John could smell the tang of sweat in the air, the proof that they had tried to be useful. At least the passengers still on board could calm themselves with the presence of lights. They could look into the face of their lover for a little while longer before they lost it forever.

Fear fluttered in John’s chest. His wife would be alone now. Without him. A warm tear slid down his face at this thought as he sucked in a shaking breath. Around him, the men began to wail as the water lapped higher on their bodies. In another breath, sound had been ripped from the space as chaos took hold. Creaking, breaking metal growled and thundered around the engineering as the strain became too great for the old girl to bear.

A hand clapped on John’s shoulder. It shook slightly before squeezing. Davis. Blindly reaching out, he dropped a hand to Davis’s shoulder in return as they shuffled closer to one another until they were locked arm-in-arm against one of the metal walls, shoved between equipment. They would not die alone and they would not drift off. John swallowed against the knot in his throat. He could almost imagine Davis and his eternal optimism saying We did good, didn’t we? At the end?

John nodded to himself. They had. Every single one of them had pounded on the old girl’s chest for the past two hours to keep her going.

They had kept the old girl alive. Long enough that hopefully someone would hear the distress signal still being hammered out and rescue the poor souls above them on the decks and in their chambers, beyond them in the lifeboats. Yes, they had done good after all.

Leaning heavily against a metal wall, John craned his head skyward and stared through the inky blackness. He could just imagine the shining gold and silver of the engines, the proud roar of the old girl’s heart. He could even imagine the sweltering, all-encompassing heat that once lodged itself in his bones.

“The ship of dreams,” he whispered, clunking his head back against the wall.

I dream…that you stay afloat, old girl.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The erratic heartbeats travelling through the ship quieted as she slid through the dark water. Beneath the surface of the ocean, it was silent and still once more. Her heart did not knock in her chest. Her lights did not shimmer and her days of sailing above had ended.

Yet, she could still see the faintest glimmer of the stars above, blurred by only the bubbles streaming from her body.

Dreams faded until the only one left was hers.

Gently cradling the bodies in her hands, she dropped into the sand with an unheard thud and silent tears. This was the collective end. The final destination of her voyage and the journey of all the souls within her. One final tremor rattled her as she looked up to the lifeboats high above. It wasn’t her time to die. It wasn’t her time to succumb to the pressure of the ocean or the rust already beginning to form.

As the souls in her care tucked in for their final rest, the old girl found her resolve. Her new aspiration. She was the ship of dreams. The ship would always hold thousands of sleeping dreamers in the palm of her hand, the cage of her chest. She was the Titanic and she would keep them safe during their long sleep.