A DEEP OCEAN OF SECRETS
Chapter Two
Rose looked around at the people
before her, so desperately wanting her to tell her story. Lizzy saw her
grandmother as a whole other person now. She had no idea that her grandmother
was a Titanic survivor—she had never said anything.
Rose’s eyes fluttered slowly, and
she began, struggling for the words, yet they flowed from her aged lips soundly
and smoothly. "It’s been eighty-four years…and I can still smell the fresh
paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in.
Titanic was called the ship of dreams. And it was. It really was…"
*****
The port of Southampton was
crowded. People of all ethnicities, colors, and classes crowded onto the dock
to watch the grandest ship ever built, Titanic, set sail on her maiden voyage.
Honking its horn and trying desperately to fight the crowds, a white and black
Renault leading a silver Daimler-Benz stopped by a lower gangplank. The driver
of the Renault jumped from the front seat and opened the white car door. A
gloved hand was held out, and the driver took it, escorting out a beautiful
young woman. She tilted her head, her large purple hat angled on her head, and
stared up at the Titanic emotionlessly. Another gloved hand was held out, and
the driver escorted another young woman out of the car. A large red hat was
tilted on her head like her sister’s, and she stood next to her, smiling like a
child at Christmas.
"Rose, do you see the size
of this ship?" fifteen-year-old Elisabeth DeWitt Bukater cried happily, in
shock at the grandest ship that she would be traveling on. She placed a
delicate gloved hand on the top of her hat to keep it from falling off in the
crowd.
Seventeen-year-old Rose DeWitt
Bukater nodded, still staring at the ship. "Yes, I see it." A tall,
dark-haired man exited the car and smiled up at the ship. His name was Caledon
Hockley, heir to a steel fortune, and young Rose’s fiancé. Rose turned to him,
looking rather snobbish, in Elisabeth’s opinion. "I don’t see what all the
fuss is about. It doesn’t look any bigger than the Mauritania."
Elisabeth rolled her eyes at her
sister, and Cal laughed. "You can be blasé about some things, Rose, but
not about Titanic! It’s over one hundred feet longer than the Mauritania, and
far more luxurious." Cal turned to a woman in her late forties dressed in
a green outfit—Ruth DeWitt Bukater. "Your daughter is far too hard to
impress, Ruth."
Ruth laughed hollowly. She smiled
up at Titanic. "So, this is the ship that they say is unsinkable?"
"But it is unsinkable!"
Cal cried as he was tapped on the shoulder by a baggage officer. "God
himself could not sink this ship…" He turned to the officer and put him in
charge of their valuable luggage with a five pound tip. Elisabeth was still
grinning at the ship. She smiled mischievously at Cal.
"If he decides not to sink
it," she said.
Cal turned back around and took
Rose’s arm. Elisabeth walked in front of the soon-to-be-married couple with her
mother, smiling and gazing at the ship with such wonder and amazement that she
tripped over the gangplank entrance. Ruth steadied her. "Oh, Elisabeth,
please pay attention for one moment," Ruth declared. "You’ll end up
killing yourself before Titanic even leaves the dock."
Elisabeth shrugged off her
mother’s rude comment and cocked her head back to Rose, smiling. Rose didn’t
look the least bit happy, staring up at the ship with no emotion. She almost
looked nervous, like boarding the ship was a bad omen. "Why do you look
like you are going to your execution?" Elisabeth asked, and Rose just looked
at her sister. Elisabeth was still smiling, and one hand was flat on top of her
hat to keep it from falling off. Rose’s eyes were piercing, trying to hit the
core of Elisabeth’s soul, but Elisabeth was too strong for that. Elisabeth
turned back around and stepped onto the marvelous ship.
*****
"It was the ship of
dreams…to everyone else. My younger sister, Elisabeth, looked at it as if was
the grandest thing she had ever seen in her life. Elisabeth was two years
younger than I, so full of life, taking life in with one big breath. Some would
call her immature, always joking and smiling, laughing, and making everyone
feel good—she was truly one of my best friends. The ship of dreams was truly a
ship of dreams for her. I can still see Elisabeth’s beautiful porcelain face
smiling as she boarded the gigantic ship. But to me…it was a slave ship, taking
me back to America in chains. Outwardly, I was everything a well-brought-up
girl should be, but inside, I was screaming."
*****
Led by an officer, the DeWitt
Bukater-Hockley party was led to their elegant millionaire suite, B52, B54, and
B56. The officer swung the door open, and Rose and her family stepped into the
brightly lit room. There were three bedrooms, Elisabeth and Rose sharing one, a
bath, a water closet, a large wardrobe room, a large sitting room, and a
fifty-foot promenade deck.
Elisabeth gasped at all the
beautiful engravings on the wall, at the colorful fabric on the chairs, and the
elegant clock sitting on the mantle of the fireplace. The luggage was brought
in, and immediately Rose searched through her paintings. A room service waiter
poured Cal a glass of champagne, and he walked around the suite, inspecting it.
"Do these accommodations
suit you?" Elisabeth asked sarcastically to Cal. She was helping Rose with
her paintings. She held one up of a ballerina, studying it and smiling
thoughtfully. The paints and color seemed to swarm her into a mix of emotions.
Cal took the remark seriously.
"They will do. They will do. It doesn’t look any different from our hotel in
Paris." His voice deflated. "Thank you for asking." But he
didn’t mean it.
Elisabeth’s face cracked into a
grin. "I was only joking, Cal."
Cal leaned up against a doorframe
and took a sip of his drink. "Those finger paintings sure were a waste of
money," he said cockily. Elisabeth set down the picture and looked up at
Cal, not really liking him at that moment. Elisabeth had never really liked
Caledon Hockley, the rich, snobby thirty-year-old that thought he was the
master of the universe.
"But they were no waste of
money of yours, Cal. Didn’t your father buy them all?" Elisabeth asked,
smiling on the inside from her comeback. She innocently picked up a painting
and stared at it. Elisabeth was known to not hold her tongue, and this was a
moment that made Cal want to slap her for it. She knew that Cal hadn’t
inherited his money yet, so technically, none of the things he bought were
really his.
Rose held up a rather large,
strange picture with different shapes and colors. "The difference between
Cal’s taste in art and mine is that I have some. They’re fascinating," she
said, setting the painting against the couch. "Like being in a dream.
There’s truth, but no logic."
Elisabeth asked, "What’s the
artist’s name again?"
"Something Picasso…"
Rose trailed off, going to another painting. Elisabeth chuckled and waltzed
into the bedroom she and Rose shared.
"He’ll never amount to a
thing, believe me," Cal said, pointing with his champagne glass. "At
least they were cheap." He turned to a valet and pointed to the wardrobe
where the large green safe was to be put. The safe held all of Cal’s money and
a couple other of his treasures, which he never really took out.
Rose entered the room a couple of
minutes later with Trudy, her maid, and all of her paintings. She set them against
the wall. Elisabeth was laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Trudy was
already unpacking Rose’s things. "It’s like they built this ship just for
us," Trudy exclaimed. "Just think, when I crawl between the sheets
tonight, I’ll be the first—"
Cal appeared in the doorway.
"And when I crawl through the sheets tonight, I’ll still be the
first." Elisabeth’s head popped up at Cal’s remark.
Trudy blushed at the innuendo.
"Excuse me, miss," she said, and made a quick exit. Elisabeth sat up
and looked like she was about to throw up.
"Cal, you are utterly
sickening!" she exclaimed, and hurried out of the room.
"I thought that would make
her leave," Cal said, joking. He looked at Rose, and became suddenly
serious. He put his hands on her shoulders. "The first and only.
Forever."
Rose just stared into her vanity
mirror, her expression showing how bleak a prospect this was for her.
*****
At only fifteen, Elisabeth Marie
DeWitt Bukater was a true beauty. She took down her bun, and her dark,
blood-colored hair fell down to her elbows in soft, round, loose ringlets. Her
skin was a creamy white, her lips full and red, her nose slim and pointy, her
eyebrows perfectly arched. Elisabeth’s eyes were the deepest shade of emerald,
looking at the world with wonder behind dark, thick, long eyelashes. Elisabeth
was of average height, coming up to her sister’s nose, with beautiful, delicate
hands and small, petite feet.
Elisabeth looked at life as one
big adventure, taking it in with one big breath and never exhaling. Elisabeth
was nearly a grown woman, mature and poised, elegant and proper, polite and
presentable, but still had a fire in her gleaming eyes and a mischievous grin.
Elisabeth stared at her
reflection, her dress looking absolutely stunning. It was a pale yellow, the
sleeves stopping at her forearms. The neck was v-shaped, the hem edged with
lace. The dress tied with an oval belt at the hips, the soft fabric white. Two
skirts were added, and the skirts turned to a ruffled print, flowing down to
her ankles. On her feet were white heels. Satisfied with how she looked,
Elisabeth called Kathy back into the room to do her hair.