A CHANCE TO LIVE
Chapter Three

Four Years Later

"Mama!"

"What is it, darling?"

Anna runs into my embrace, her tearstained face burrowing into my shoulder.

"A few kids at school made fun of her." Erik picks up her bag, which she had flung aside when running to me.

"Mama—they called me ugly and a freak! And Billy hit me. See?" She had a greenish bruise on her upper arm.

"Well, come on inside, honey. I’ll fix that right up and make you some chocolate milk. You, too, Erik. All right?"

"Yay!" Anna skips into our one-story house, Erik on her heels.

It’s funny how quickly children forget their troubles when promised something sweet.

*****

"Where’s Papa?" Erik licks the milk mustache off his little face.

"Darling, you know perfectly well Papa is starting his new job today."

Erik hands me the empty glass. "But when is he coming home?"

*****

"Don’t forget your lunch, dear."

Jack kisses me on the cheek. "How could I?" He laughs. "I’ll be back at ten."

*****

"You’ll be in bed, Erik. Papa will come in and kiss you good night."

"Okay, Mama." He gives me a tight hug. "Hey, Peter wanted to know if I can play over at his house tonight."

"Until what time, honey? Are his parents going to feed you? I hope his parents are going to be there."

He laughs, a beautiful sound. Imagine if it had been silenced forever that night.

"Mama, you ask too many questions. Of course his parents are there. They invited the new kids’ parents to dinner, and Peter doesn’t want to be alone with him."

"There’s a new kid in school?"

He nods. "Well, I don’t remember his last name, but his first name is Cal."

*****

I was never partial to loud noise, but a job is a job. And fortunately, my post is the farthest away from the Beast--what we call the large vat which churns the molten metal. I’ve just been promoted to junior steel-checker. All I have to do is make sure the parts have all the right holes and it’s hard enough not to break. Simple enough; and it pays well. Much better than my last job.

"Attention, employees!"

Mr. Lambeer’s voice, high-pitched and nasal, echoes through the huge room. "The co-owner of this company, Mr. Caledon Hockley, will be taking over the duties of Mr. Schumann for the remainder of the year. Mr. Hockley is expected to arrive any minute now; I expect everyone to be on their best behavior. And we all wish Mr. Schumann the speediest of recoveries."

My body feels like it’s been hit by a train. It can’t be. Not the same Caledon Hockley. Not here.

*****

"Mr. Dawson!" My supervisor calls me over to his desk.

"Yes, Mr. Lambeer?"

He shuffles his papers and clears his throat. "You heard the announcement about Mr. Hockley?"

I nod, and an uneasy feeling starts to grow in my stomach.

"Well…ah…your records say you are a…ah…survivor of the Titanic disaster. Am I correct?"

I nod again.

"And Mr. Hockley…ah…is also a survivor, if my information is correct. So, I thought perhaps you knew him from that? I, as you know, work directly with Mr. Schumann’s office, so it would be possible for me to set up a meeting between you two."

The uneasy feeling triples and I almost double over in pain. Shit!

"Uh…that’s a…uh…interesting idea. But no, thank you. Me and Mr. Hockley were not acquainted on the ship. Thank you for the offer."

"Well, then, perhaps you would like to be introduced to Mr. Hockley anyway? I’m sure you’ll have plenty to talk about. And it would perhaps be…of use…to have a friend with the stature in life that Mr. Hockley has."

My laughter, I notice, sounds more nervous than I would like it to sound. "No. Thank you."

As I walk away, I feel my eyes tear up. Just as we were getting comfortable…

I feign illness and leave when an announcement is made. "Mr. Hockley as arrived and will be touring the premises."

*****

"So, your name’s Cal, hmm?"

He’s the spitting image of his father, except his father has these cold, dead eyes that stare right through you.

"That’s my father’s name, too."

"I bet it is. You’re a regular chip off the old block, ain’tcha?" Peter claps Cal on the back.

"Yes. You’re not so bad, you know?" I clap him on the same spot Peter did. Cal winces.

"Thank you. It’s nice knowing I have friends here. I do miss New York, though. I miss it terribly…"

I snap to attention. "New York? I go there every year. My parents go to see the Statue of Liberty. Don’t know why…but they sure do seem to love it."

"Not my dad. He gets all depressed whenever we drive by it. I don’t know why, either."

"Hey! We should play at my house sometime. Our parents could talk about New York."

Cal brightens up and nods vigorously.

I smile. "I think we could be good friends."

Stories