A Line In The Ocean
The Funeral

The ship of dreams, as it was called, was one day out of Ireland on its maiden voyage to America. The passengers were made up of the well to do and those with nothing to lose; all wishing for a new chance and a new life. George, an eight year old boy from upper class England, stayed in his bedroom in the grand suite not thinking of a new future, but lamenting of his lost home and friends he will never see again. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the picture of the mother he had just lost. He passed his hand over his mother’s face and yearned for the time before the Influenza took her. George was left with his businessman father whom he obeyed, but didn’t really know. He looked up at the knocking at his door and his father’s voice.

“George?”

            The bedroom door opened the door and his father, Edward, walked in.

“We need to get to breakfast.”

            His father saw the picture on his lap and walked over.

“Why did we have to leave home?” George said.

“George, we talked about this. I can make more money in America.”

“But my friends…and mother.”

“Your mother is not coming back, George. You need to accept it.”

            Edward took the picture and put it on the dresser. He grabbed George’s hand and pulled him off the bed.

“Now come on, we’ve got to go.”

            George followed his father out of the Grand Suite. At the entrance of the First Class Dining room,             Edward stopped suddenly. Just inside the doorway was one of the most prominent businessmen in the world.

“The Strauses are here. This could be my opportunity.” Edward said.

“Who?” George said

            “George, why don’t you get your leather ball and play outside for a while.”

“But…”

“George. Now”

George turned around with a sigh and walked in the other direction.  His father continued into the banquet hall.

            After getting his favorite ball, George went out onto the deck and looked over the railing at the great expanse of ocean before him. He let out a mournful sigh. Somewhere out there was his home. His father kept telling him the Titanic would take him to a new home, in America. He knew that could never be true. To him, he had one home and one home only, even if he may never get back to it. George left the view of the ocean behind him dropped the leather ball and imitated the famous Football players his father had taken him to see. He kicked it with his right then ran forward and kicked it with his left and so on. One extra hard kick sent it flying down the length of the deck until it landed at the feet of a blond haired boy, about his age. The boy was dressed a little more shabbily than George, but George paid it no mind. The boy held it and stared at it until George was forced to walk over and demand it back.

“Nice ball” The boy said.

            George grabbed it out the boy’s hands.

“Never seen a ball before?”

“Not one like that.”

“Well it’s mine.”

            George started to walk away.

“Want to play catch? I promise I won’t hog it again.” The boy called out after him. George stopped and faced him. He didn’t see other kids around.

“All right.”

            The blond haired boy reached out his hand.

“I’m Anders.”

“George.”

            George dropped the ball, kicked it a distance, then looked over his shoulder at Anders.

“I bet you can’t catch me.” George said.

            While on an escapade of running and dodging people, Anders and George rushed by Anders mother, Marie, who called him back. They stopped and George followed Anders back to her.

“What did I tell you about running like that?” in her thick Irish accent.

“I’m sorry mother. It won’t happen again.”

“You better believe it won’t.”

Marie looked at George, then turned back to Anders.

“Aren’t you going to introduce your friend?”

“This is George.”

“We’d better get inside to eat.

Ander’s mom kneeled down to George.

“Would you like to join us, George?”

George looked back toward the other end of the ship and then turned to her. He hesitated for a moment, but his growling stomach decided for him.

“All right.”

Marie put one arm around each boy and walks with them back through the door.  He was led down the stairs, then down a hallway until he found himself in a large room with long tables instead of the round ones, which he had seen in First class. There was big kettle at the other side of the room and a stack of bowls beside it. Anders and his family grabbed a bowl and filled with oatmeal from the pot. His face dropped when he saw what they were eating, being used to the big meals the servants would make back home in England.

“Is this it?” He said.

            Anders’ mom whispered to him. “Be thankful God is giving us this.”

            George took it grudgingly wishing for the scones and jam back home. One part of George wanted to stomp out of there saying “he deserved better”, but even at his young age he knew something was different about Ander’s family. Not just in their surroundings and how they looked, but inside them. How they seemed happy with so much less. George slopped down the food and followed them down the hall to their quarters. The room had four bunks in a narrow space.

            “Can we go back up and play, mother?”

            “All right, but be careful.”

            She hugged Anders. George tried to think back, but could not remember an embrace from his father, unless he counted those done in anger.

“It was nice to meet you, George.” Marie said.

They hurried back outside and continued their game. They each took their turn kicking the ball.             George kicked it a bit too hard again and it went. They looked at each other.

“Bet I’ll get it first.” George said.

            They raced neck and neck until George was stopped short by one of the ship’s officers blocking the way. The officer looked at George, then at Anders, before kneeling down before the first class boy.

            “Who are your parents?”

“I’m here with my father, George Conrad. He’s at breakfast.”

“You’d better follow me; your father might be getting a little worried.” The man said.

“He sent me outside to play.”

“You’d better just follow me.”

 “Go on git” he said to Anders, as if he was shooing away a dog. 

            He led George into the banquet hall and to his father’s table.

“Mr. Conrad?”

“Yes?”

“Is this your son?”

“What did you do, George?”

“I found your son engaging with a boy from the third class section.”

“Third Class?”

            George slammed down his napkin, then turned to his son.

“I don’t want you hanging out with those people. You understand me?”

“But Dad you’ve never met them.” George responds.

“It doesn’t matter. They are lazy and uneducated. I don’t want you becoming like them. You understand me?”

            George didn’t understand the reason for his father’s anger, but he was his father.

“Yes, Sir.” George says.

“Now go back up to the room and stay there for the rest of the day.”

“But…”

“George.”

Edward pointed toward the door. Edward turned to the officer standing there.

“Could you do me a favor and follow him up, to make sure he goes there.”

“Of Course, sir.”  The ship’s officer said.

That day passed into the next, and finally George was able to go outside instead of being stuck in what became like a prison. A prison in a prison is how he felt.

George wandered around the deck in the first class section. He didn’t see Anders and he didn’t know whether to be thankful or not. He tried to obey his father, but something about the family stuck with him, even after spending so short a time. He walked past a group of kids playing, but thought twice and joined in with their game. There were slightly mixed reactions inside him when he heard the sound of his name ring out.

“George?” Anders called out

            George tried all he could to ignore him, so he wouldn’t have to face the inevitable. The other kids looked up and saw the third class kid standing there. George turned around and walked toward Anders all the while hearing the taunting of the kids behind him.

“George is friends with the poor boy.” One of the rich kids said.

George kept walking toward him.

“Do you want to kick the ball today?”

“I can’t. My father won’t let me. He told me I can’t play with you.”

“Why?” Anders asked

“I just can’t.”

            Anders didn’t understand anymore than George did and walked away with his head down. George thought about playing with him anyway, but obeyed his father and walked away. He played with the other kids until it was time to go in. His father was already seated at a table talking to someone who looked important. George pulled up a seat and sat down next to his father.

            “I ordered you some soup.” Edward said

            George stayed silent.

“Did you have fun today? I heard you found some nice friends?” Edward said

“It was okay. Why can’t I play with Anders?”

“Anders? Are you still thinking about that third class boy? You’re not to play with him and that’s final.”

“Why?”

“End of discussion, George. Do want to go back into your room?” Edward said with a hint of disbelief that George would be questioning him on it.

            A waiter sets a bowl in front of George and a steak in front of Edward. He looked at it then raised his hand.

“Hold on.”

            The waiter stops. George digs into the meat to examine it,

“I asked for medium, this is medium well.”

“I apologize, sir. Shall I take it back?”

 “I’ll eat it, but you’d better tell whoever in charge back there to be more on the ball from now on.”

            George looked at his soup bowl and saw oatmeal instead of soup in it for a moment.

“Be grateful God is giving us this.” George said.

“What did you say?” George Sr. said.

“Nothing.” George Jr. said then scoops up the soup with the spoon.

“Edward?”

            Edward turned in his chair.

            “Mr. Straus.”

            “I need to talk to you about what we were discussing the other day.”

            “Of Course.”

            “George, go up to the room. I need to talk to this man.”

            George left the Dining room after grabbing a couple dinner rolls. Instead of going through door to the Suite hallway, he opened the door to the outside and headed to the third class section. He made his way to the back of the ship, down the stairs and stopped in front of a doorway. He knocked on the door of his compartment and was met by Marie.

“Hello again.”

            Anders jumped up from his bunk.

“George.”

            George opened up a folded napkin and put the dinner rolls in her hand.

 “That was very sweet. Thank you George.” Marie said.

            “I’d better get back. I’d just wanted to give those to you.”

“You just got here.” Anders said

“Anders, don’t be impolite. He brought us some food.”

“I’d really better go. I’m not supposed to be down here.”

“Say’s who?”

“My Father.”

            Marie gave a nod of understanding.

“Can I go with him to the deck, mother?”

“Take your coat.”

            Anders and George looked out over the water and saw what to them looked like a big island of ice in the near distance. They waited by the rail as they got closer.

“This is just like the great South Pole explorers. They must have seen the same things.” Anders said.

“Did those explorers get this close to one of these?”

            The ship gave a huge jolt as the starboard hull collided with the iceberg. A chunk of ice flew toward George and struck him on the face enough to cause a bruise. George was knocked off his feet onto his back. Edward, who had already been to George’s room and was now searching for him around the ship, saw them. Anders had steadied himself after the jolt and now stood over George. Edward ran up behind him and pushed Anders aside. He grabbed George by the arm and pulled him up seeing the bruise on his face. 

“I told you to stay away from this riff raff.”

            He grabbed Anders arm

“How dare you attack my son. Trying to go for anything you can steal I bet.”

            Marie stood on the deck after feeling the jolt and racing up.

“Take your hands off him.”

            A shove on the chest pushed Edward back a step, then Marie stormed through main door with Anders in tow. Edward, who was still a little taken back at being shoved by a woman, turned his attention toward George.

“I’ll deal with you after we get back to the room.”

            The burden on George’s shoulders and what was to come for him made the walk back seem extremely long. He walked into the doorway of the place that could be where he had to stay for the remainder of the trip.

            George sat on the bed as his father paced in front of him.

“I ought to whip you right now.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“First you lie to, and then you go hang out with those people.”

“Those people have names, Dad.”

“George, why do have to you make this so hard? I’m just trying to make a better life for us.”

“So are they.”

            George’s father shook his head at his son’s insolence. The awkward silence between them was only broken when a loud knocking resonated through the room. George sat on his bed and stared out the window.

            George’s father opened the main door and is greeted by one of the ships officers, holding a life jacket in his hands

“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but you need to put this on.”

 “Life Jacket? What’s this about?”

“The word going around that the ship is going to sink.”

“But that’s impossible. Not with this ship.”

“This is not a time for debate, sir. You need to put this on. Captain’s orders.”

George grabbed the two life jackets the officer was holding. The officer sped off to the next suite to tell the next passenger the bad news about the ship.

“George. Get out here.”

It did not take much shouting for George to come, since he had been standing outside the doorway and heard the news.

             “You’ve got to put this on.” Edward said.

            “Are we going to die?

            “I don’t have time for this, George. Put this on.”

George put on the life jacket and followed his father down the hallway, then out into the frigid North Atlantic air.  Some passengers screamed for their dear lives, while others looked as if they were out taking a stroll, refusing to accept the reality of the situation.

            “What’s going on?” A man next to Anders said to an officer.

“The boiler room has been flooded along with other compartments”

“Did everyone make it out?”

“Almost. I got to know one of the men that didn’t.”

“His boy, Anders I think is his name, I doubt even knows he is gone. ”

“I’ve got to tell Anders.”

            George shakes free of his father’s hand and runs in the other direction. Edward turns around and runs after him.

            George made it down to Anders room and knocks.

“Anders?”

Inside the room, Anders perked up.

“George?” He jumps up and opened the door.

“We’re waiting until my father gets back. He should be back anytime”

“I heard people talking on deck. The men in the boiler room…”

            “No. No.” Marie cried

“Mom?” Anders said as he turned around.  “Dad will be back. Won’t he?”

“You’ve got to come with me. Let’s get out of here.” George said

“Yes George. Let’s get out of here.” Edward said, as he stood in the doorway.

            George turned around and smiled until he saw water began to cover the floor around his father’s feet.

“Come on, Anders we’ve got to leave now. I’m sure your father would want you to be safe. Save yourself for him.” George said.

“Come on mother.” Anders said turn as he turned around.

            She looked at him with a look of such resignation that it was almost contagious. Anders sat down on the bunk and held her hand.

“I can’t leave mother.” Anders said

            “Please, Dad you’ve got to do something.” George said

            Edward looked at the floor and saw the water getting deeper. Edward walked over to Marie and pulled her off the bed.

“Bloody hell. Get up and save yourself.” Edward said.

            Edward held her as she stumbled along. Anders held back aiding his mother.

            “I’m not leaving mother.” Anders said.

            “Are you okay to walk now?” Edward said, turning to Marie.

            She nodded her head. George and Anders climbed the stairs to the outside.

            George had never seen anything so chaotic in all his young life. He could see how loved ones lost each other in the mob of people.

            “We’ll wait for them, here.” Anders said.

            Marie exited the doorway, but George’s father wasn’t with her.

            “Where’s my Dad?” George said.

            “He’s coming.” Marie said.

            Before George could see his father, the mob pushed them toward the boats.  George feared beyond any fear he ever felt that he was separated from his father forever. The officer guided them toward the boat.

“Women and children first.”

“Daddy.” George said.

            He spotted his father through the crowd, but the officer set him in the boat along with Anders and Marie.

“That’s my son.” Edward yelled at the officer.

“Women and children first, Sir. Captains orders.”

            Edward was held back while the women and children were let on. He rushed the officer, but stopped abruptly when the officer pulls out a gun.

            “Stand back.” The officer said as he waved the gun back and forth.

            George sat in the boat calling out for his father. An elderly lady next to George screamed out, then stood up in the boat.

“Mrs. Kennedy?” Marie said.

“I can’t. I can’t live anymore without my husband. I want off.”

“Be quiet lady.” The first officer said. “Sit down.”

            Mrs. Kennedy made her way across the lifeboat and jumped back onto the Titanic. She ran toward the group standing there, then stopped and touched Edward on the arm.

“You go get your son; I’m going to my husband.” She looked toward the sky, then pushed through the crowd. The first officer lowered his gun and waved Edward onto the lifeboat. Edward climbed onto the railing and then onto the lifeboat.  Edward sat next to George. He turned his head away to hide a tear trailing down his cheek.

“Daddy.” George said.

            Edward turned. George saw the streak left by the tear.

“You’re crying.”

“I almost lost you, boy.”

            George wrapped his arms around his father and laid his head against his arm. Edward was taken aback by the sudden display of affection. He wrapped his arms around George in a gentle embrace. George looked up at his father.

“Can I still be Ander’s friend?”

            Edward looked past George at Marie and her son.

“You can be friends with whomever you want to.”

            Edward smiled and ruffled George’s hair.

“Are we going home?”

“George we’re not going back to…”

“To America?”

“Yes George, we’re going home to America.”

            George looked past his father and the vast expanse of ocean.

“Goodbye England.”