Unsinkable (16 page)

There were twenty boats floating out beyond them, most of them not filled to capacity. Beckett said, “Our best chance is try and reach one of the lifeboats.”

“How cold do you think the water is?” Warren gripped the rail tighter.

“Freezing. Maybe below freezing.” Beckett looked down at his warm overcoat. “I’m afraid these big coats will just weight us down, so we’re going to need to lose them.”

“Before you do that, can’t you take a minute and write us out of this safely in that book of yours?”

“I can’t. I gave the book to Carrington.”

“Okay, then, I guess this is it.” Warren tossed his overcoat on the deck and Beckett did the same. “I’ll see you soon for a hand of cards and that job at the bank.”

Beckett said, “See you soon.”

And before he had time to think about what he was doing, he climbed over the railing and jumped off the sinking
Titanic
, plunging down into the freezing darkness of the black ocean.

                                   ******

Inside the ship, Mr. Guggenheim and Mr. Astor sat down and lit a cigar, agreeing to go down “as gentlemen.” In the ship’s library, Thomas Andrews stopped the clock at just after 2:00 a.m.

The orchestra continued to play. Those left on the boat either laid down in their bunks to wait it out or scrambled to the top of the boat as a minister recited scripture.

The stern of the ship began to raise higher in the air. The forward funnel broke off and crashed into the water, those beneath it went to their death. The remaining lights on the ship went dark.

                                    ******

As the
Titanic
went underwater, great waves rushed through the beautiful ship, destroying everything in their path. The china fell from the shelves, furniture shifted and skidded across rooms. Death came quickly to those trapped inside. As the ship broke in two, the objects in the cargo hold began to spill out.

The latches on the crate holding the mummy that Beckett had written on board came open and the painted coffin inside slid out and fell to rest on the ocean floor.

                                    ******

Carrington sat shivering in the lifeboat, watching the boat rise into the air and knowing that this was it. There was no way to stop the boat from going under. Where was Beckett? Was he still on board? Had he found a boat?

“Oh Beckett,” she said aloud. She took the little statue that Molly had given her and put it in her pocket. Her fingers closed around the book and she pulled it out and hugged it to her chest. Molly saw her clutching it to her heart.

“Is that Beckett’s book?”

“Yes. He gave it to me for safekeeping.”

“Write in it, darlin’. Write that he makes it safely.”

Carrington turned tear filled eyes to Molly. “What if it only works when Beckett writes in it?”

“What if it doesn’t matter? It’s worth a try, Carrington. Write him out.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Molly said, “It doesn’t have to be pretty, darlin’, it just needs to be what you want to happen. Write something. Write it now.”

Carrington pulled the pen from inside the book and wrote quickly on the page where Beckett’s scrawling hand ended.

Beckett MacKenzie did not die when the Titanic sank into the ocean….

She closed the book as someone in the lifeboat gasped. As they watched, the ship rose into the air and the lights faded. And then, the ship began to sink below the water. Carrington watched in horror as tears streamed down her face.
Please don’t die Beckett, I love you.
She held the book close to her heart as the unsinkable ship of dreams disappeared under the water and was gone.

The women in the lifeboats sat in silence, crying softly as the boat slipped away. There was an officer of the ship in each lifeboat. Molly spoke to the officer in their boat.

“There’s probably people we can save out there. The boat’s not full. Let’s go back and see if we can help some of them.”

“We can’t. They’ll swamp the boat and we’ll capsize.”

“We can’t just leave ‘em out there to die!” Molly exclaimed. “Come on ladies, let’s row back. Tell him that’s what you want.”

“Please let’s go back,” Carrington said. “Please.”

“Somebody would have heard the call.
They
can pick them up.”

“We’re here now,” Molly insisted. “You don’t have to get more than would fit in the boat.”

“We aren’t going back.”

The man would not budge and no one else joined

Molly and Carrington
in asking to go back for survivors. Carrington leaned close to Molly and they held each other and wondered what was wrong with the other occupants of their boat that they wouldn’t go search for survivors.

“You just hold on to that book and believe,” Molly whispered into her ear. “Just believe.”

And they sat in the life boat, waiting for someone to come and save them.

M
olly’s heart felt like it was breaking every time she looked at Carrington’s sad expression. The
Carpathia
was steaming toward New York, having collected the survivors of
Titanic
and showing them as much support and care as was humanly possible. Passengers aboard the ship had given the sunken ship’s refugees clothing and food and tried their best to ease their suffering.

“What am I going to do Molly?” Rose asked worriedly. “She just sits there, holding that book, crying. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t eat, and hardly sleeps.”

Molly had become her closest ally since the sinking of the ship. She had forgotten that once she had considered Molly ‘new money’ and not worthy of her time. Molly had impressed them all with her actions since the lifeboats had been rescued. She had organized the survivors and helped to reunite family members. She was a tower of strength for them all, trying to help them all in any way she could.

“You’re going to have to be patient with her Rose. She loved Beckett more than you realized.”

“Molly, do you think another boat could have picked up more survivors? That when we get to New York we’ll find out that they survived?”

“I think we should keep hoping for that, Rose, until we know we shouldn’t hope any longer.”

Molly said what needed to be said even when deep in her heart she knew that Beckett and Jackson and Wilson and all the rest were probably lost forever. Bruce Ismay walked past them and Molly once again had to keep herself from saying anything. That the man had taken a seat in a life boat and saved himself without even giving the order to let anyone who could get in a lifeboat do so made her angry. Ismay would have to live with what he had done for the rest of his life, and Molly was sure that he would not be treated kindly, so maybe that was punishment enough.

She went and sat by Carrington. “You eat anything today, darlin’?”

“I’m not hungry Molly.” Carrington’s voice was so very sad, so emotionally drained.

“Maybe not, but you still have to eat.”

Carrington caressed the leather bound book that rested in her lap.

“You wrote it in there, right?”

Carrington nodded. “But it seems that the magic came from Beckett and not the book. I’ve searched the ship and read and re-read the list of people we picked up. He’s not here.”

“Maybe he’s not going to New York the same way we are. Maybe it’ll just take him a little longer to get there.”

“Thank you, Molly.”

“For what?”

“Trying to make me keep hoping. Why didn’t they let us go back and look for survivors?”

“Why did they send the boats out half full?” Molly asked. “And for that matter why weren’t there enough boats in the first place? It was a beautiful ship, Carrington, but they weren’t looking out for their passengers.”

Carrington nodded. “We were so comfortable we didn’t think about what it was like for the other levels. I talked to a girl from third class yesterday. They only had one bathroom for everyone and when the ship started to sink, they wouldn’t let them come up. The only ones who got in the lifeboats were the ones who forced their way through. Think how many children must have died, Molly.”

“I do keep thinking about that. But losing them isn’t any harder than the thought of losing Beckett.”

“I feel sad about Father,” Carrington said, as tears started to fall again. “But it doesn’t hurt like losing Beckett. I think I was always in love with him. When we were little I used to pretend that we were grown up and married, even though I had no idea what that meant.”

“You keep believing he’s okay. Don’t stop. Take that book and write how you find him again. Make it just the way you would want it to happen. And then…maybe it will.”

Molly pulled Carrington into an embrace and left her alone again. Carrington opened the book and read what she had written in the lifeboat.

Maybe it isn’t specific enough. Beckett’s words were full of vivid descriptions. You could see what happened in your mind’s eye when he wrote it. Help me, Beckett. Help me find the words to bring you back to me….

She took the pen and started to write where she had left off the night the
Titanic
sank.

                              ******

Molly and Carrington stood side by side on the deck as the
Carpathia
approached the dock. Crowds of people waited, many of them hoping to find the family who wouldn’t be returning.

“It looks like Bruce will get his big media story,” Molly remarked. “Although this isn’t going to be what he wanted them to write.”

“All those people,” Carrington whispered. “They don’t know if their loved ones are even on the boat.”

“Just standing there,” Molly agreed. “Praying and hoping.”

The
Titanic
survivors disembarked first. Carrington held back and watched the scene from up on deck. Mrs. Astor was swept away by her parents, the newspaper reporters and photographers were everywhere. Slowly and somberly, they all found their way off the ship. She followed her mother and they found a carriage to take them home.

At their home near Park Avenue, Rose and Carrington were greeted by the servants they had employed for years.

“Welcome home, Mrs. St. Clair,” the butler, Charles said. “And Miss Carrington.” He didn’t ask about their luggage. He cleared his throat. “And Mr. St. Clair, ma’am?”

“I’m afraid not, Charles,” Rose said quietly. The question which might have made her snap at him just weeks before was answered with no fight, no sarcasm, nothing that showed her servants that she was the one in charge and above them. None of that mattered now.

“I’m sorry ma’am.”

“Thank you, Charles. If you would be so good as to let people know that we aren’t receiving visitors yet.”

“Very well, ma’am.”

Carrington went up the stairs to her own suite of rooms. The rooms that had once been so familiar seemed empty and cold. She opened the drapes and looked out over the park. After a moment, she went to the closet and found one of her own dresses and changed out of the dress she had been given on the
Capathia
. She bundled the dress into the trash bin. She never wanted to see it again. It held too many memories she didn’t want.

The book she placed gently on her nightstand.

What do I do now?
Her thoughts came quickly.
How do I start over and plan a life without Beckett now that I can’t have the life I was going to start with him?

She sank down on the bed and leaned against the pillows. She was suddenly exhausted. She felt as if she could sleep for a thousand years.

At least if I’m sleeping I won’t be missing Beckett.
She closed her eyes to try and stop the tears that couldn’t be stopped, and cried until she fell asleep.

                              ******  

Molly stepped across the threshold of her house in Denver. It had been a long time since she had been here. She realized that she had missed it. There was something oddly comforting about being here, although when she had last left it, all she could think of was that she wanted to escape it.

She set down the single suitcase she had brought from New York, thinking it was quite a contrast to the four trunks and three crates she had taken on board the
Titanic.

As she made her way down the polished hallway to her husband’s study, she found herself nervous. He stood as she came in the room. They looked at each other without speaking for along moment, neither quite knowing who was going to speak first or what to say.

They started laughing at the same time.

“Look at us, being all awkward,” Molly said.

“I’m glad you’re all right, Molly.” JJ came around the desk and folded her into his arms.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t be?” she asked.

“I hoped you’d be stubborn enough to survive even the sinking of the unsinkable ship. My unsinkable Molly Brown.”

“Lord, I wish they’d quit writing that in all the newspapers.”

“I’m proud of you, Molly. How you jumped in and helped everybody else.”

She had nearly forgotten the reason that had put her on
Titanic.
“Our grandson?”

“Recovered. Maybe you should have just waited.”

“No. It was time to come home.”

JJ stepped away from her. “Until you decide you need to go somewhere else.”

“I think I’m staying right here for the time being.” Molly said.

“Why don’t I believe that?”

“Maybe I learned a little while I was in peril on the sea, JJ. Maybe I know what’s important to me.”

“I missed you this time Molly. Then, when I thought you weren’t coming home, well…”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, JJ.”

He looked back at here with a tenderness she hadn’t seen in his eyes for a long time.

“Let’s see what we can find for dinner,” he said. “And you can tell me all about Egypt and the
Titanic.
I’m looking forward to hearing the Molly version.”

She took his arm and led him down the hall toward the kitchen.

                                ******

Carrington walked in Central Park. She followed the path beside the lake to her favorite spot and sat on a bench, looking over the idyllic scene on the water. Ducks floated on the surface, a few people had taken out rowboats.

It had been six weeks since she had been back home. For the last four she had come here every day, to this same spot. The first two weeks she had done little but sleep and grieve and every night she had re-read the passage she had written on  the
Carpathia
. The first day of the third week, she had put on a pretty dress and taken herself to the park, just as she had done in the book and waited for Beckett to find her.

It hadn’t happened yet. She knew that her mother thought she had lost her mind, but she said nothing. Every morning when Carrington said, “I’m going to the park, Mother,” Rose had smiled and said that the fresh air would do her good.

It was early June and the days were warmer. She had not been able to forget how cold she had been in the hours following the sinking of the ship, so the morning sun was welcome.