Chapter 15 - Women and Children
The first lifeboat I watched descend looked half empty.
That image never left me.
There were empty seats.
I could see them.
Yet the boat was lowered toward the dark sea anyway.
People around me whispered.
“Why aren’t they filling it?”
“Will it come back?”
“Are there more boats?”
No one seemed to know.
Orders varied from one side of the deck to the other.
Women and children were called forward.
Some hesitated.
Some refused.
Others were helped in quickly.
Fear spread unevenly.
At one end of the deck people still spoke quietly.
At another, voices had become sharp.
Titanic’s angle was more noticeable now.
Not dramatic.
But real.
We were going down by the bow.
Eleanor touched my hand.
“You should find a boat too.”
“Later.”
“Ethan.”
“There are still plenty.”
She looked along the deck.
There were not plenty.
Not for everyone.
Perhaps she knew that before I did.
Anna held Eva tightly.
A boat was being loaded nearby.
An officer called for more women.
I turned to Anna.
“That one.”
She shook her head.
“You come.”
“I’ll take another.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I do not leave—”
“You have Eva.”
That ended the argument.
Parents understand certain truths instantly.
Anna looked at the lifeboat.
Then at me.
“Promise.”
I hated promises that night.
Everyone made them.
I’ll see you later.
I’ll follow.
Another boat.
We’ll meet in New York.
Promises were the only currency fear accepted.
“I promise.”
Anna hugged me.
It surprised both of us.
Then she moved forward.
Eva clung to my hand.
“Mr. Ethan.”
“You need to go with your mother.”
“Are you coming?”
“Soon.”
She looked at the deck.
Then at the ocean.
Then back at me.
I crouched.
“Remember your yellow house?”
She nodded.
“You still need that bedroom.”
“Rosie too.”
“Especially Rosie.”
She threw her arms around my neck.
When she released me, she pressed something into my palm.
Another peppermint.
I almost laughed.
Instead my throat tightened.
“For later,” she said.
“For later.”
I helped lift her toward the crewman.
Anna climbed into the boat.
Eva sat against her.
The boat began lowering.
Anna looked up.
I raised my hand.
She raised hers.
Eva waved Rosie.
Then they descended below the edge of the deck.
Gone.
I stood staring at the empty space.
Eleanor touched my shoulder.
“Now me, I suppose.”
“Yes.”
Her voice remained calm.
“I dislike small boats.”
“I know.”
“I dislike cold more.”
“I know.”
She studied me.
“You are frightened.”
“Very.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Only fools are not frightened when they should be.”
An officer called women forward.
I led her toward the line.
Before she boarded, she turned.
“My sister lives in Philadelphia.”
“I remember.”
“If I do not—”
“No.”
“Ethan.”
“You can tell her yourself.”
She sighed.
“Still a journalist. Never lets anyone finish.”
Then she kissed my cheek.
“Find Henry.”
“I will.”
“And Samuel.”
“I will.”
More promises.
She entered the boat.
I watched it leave.
Then I was alone.
Not truly alone.
Hundreds of people surrounded me.
But the small group that had made Titanic familiar was dispersing into the night.
I went searching for Henry.
The deck angle increased.
Water was rising somewhere below.
The bow continued sinking.
The ship that had felt immovable now gave subtle evidence of death everywhere.
Doors did not hang quite straight.
Objects shifted.
People leaned slightly without realizing it.
Far forward, the deck looked lower against the horizon.
The stars remained cruelly beautiful.
I found Henry near a stair entrance helping an elderly man with a life belt.
“You’re alive,” I said.
“So far.”
“Anna and Eva are away.”
“Good.”
“Eleanor too.”
“Better.”
“Samuel?”
Henry shook his head.
We stood together.
A group of musicians were still playing somewhere nearby.
I could hear music beneath the voices.
That sound seemed impossible.
Yet there it was.
Henry looked at the boats.
“Not enough.”
I did not answer.
We both knew.
May you like
The question was no longer whether Titanic would sink.
The question was how many people she would take with her.
