SAVE ALL WHO DARE THE EAGLE’S FLIGHT
Chapter Twelve

We slept in the next day. Bert and Emmy, though religious people who wanted to impress the love of the Holy Trinity upon their daughter, decided to respect the Sabbath Day by resting as the Lord had. There was a Divine Service in the first class dining room for anyone who believed in God, including the lower classes, but we knew that it would be full of first class passengers and that any steerage passengers would be glared at. So we caught up on some much-needed sleep instead. At breakfast, Bert and Emmy discussed the subject of worship with Kathleen and the Dalys and Bertha, all four of whom were deeply religious. They decided to have a small meeting in the public room later where they would concentrate on prayer.

I felt somewhat uncomfortable during this exchange, as I’m sure Jack, Fabrizio, and Tommy did. I have no idea what Tommy’s life in Ireland had been like, but he didn’t exactly seem like the pious type to me. Jack, Fabrizio, and I…well…we had never attended church religiously. I mean, regularly. On some Sundays we would slip into a chapel that would welcome our kind, but mostly to escape heat or the cold. Sometimes we went because Fabrizio, who had far more religious experience than we had, would have a feeling and insist he needed to hear the Word of God. He used to carry a small cross with him, more out of habit than anything, but he lost it somewhere in Spain.

The first time Jack and I were in England, back when we were much younger and were about to set off on our very first tramp steamer towards Italy, we went into the parish of Saint Botolph, the patron saint of travelers, because we wanted his blessing. As we began to travel more and more, we attended church less and less until we decided that our religious experiences could be limited down to prayers every now and then. I used to wonder and still do wonder if I attended church regularly in the life I can’t remember. What if my father had been a reverend? That thought always unnerved me; the daughter of a reverend avoiding church.

In any case, because I felt obligated to please my hosts, I sat with them in their corner, where they were joined by a number of other passengers, most of whom were Irish and fervent worshippers of Christ. Jack, Fabrizio, and Tommy also joined us, though I suspect it was because they had nothing better to do. We mostly sat in prayer for a long time, and it got to the point where I nodded off. Luckily, everyone else had their eyes closed and they didn’t notice my breach in piety, but Fabrizio nudged me and thereby roused me when my head lolled onto his shoulder. When the prayer concluded, we all murmured, "Amen" and slowly dispersed. I followed Tommy and Fabrizio up to the deck, where Tommy promptly lit up a cigarette.

"Where’s Jack?" I asked, feeling myself go red when they exchanged rather annoying, knowing glances.

"Actually, I dunno. He got up before the prayer was over. Just slipped away and slunk up the stairs," Tommy said carelessly.

I frowned. "He did? Why?"

They exchanged glances again, only this time, they didn’t look smug; they looked as if I was a child whose puppy had died and they were unsure of how to best tell me without causing any tears. "Er, well…"

"You see…"

"Tell me."

Tommy sighed and blew out a stream of smoke. "We think…that he probably went ter see, um, Rose."

I gripped the railing and turned to look out at the sea. It was so calm compared to my present inner welfare; roiling and simmering. Funnily enough, however, I wasn’t entirely surprised. He was impossibly infatuated with her; of course he would try to see her. I realized that he was probably trying to get into the Divine Service to see more of her. As if last night hadn’t been enough. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the way Jack was acting about Rose was precisely the way I was acting about him; I wanted to see him more than anything and I was hurt when I couldn’t. I refused to find any fault in myself, however; young girls are convinced that they are never wrong, and I was certainly no exception to the rule.

"So, uh, the party last night was, ah…wild, no?" Fabrizio attempted.

"Huh? Oh, aye. I heard a gent say that they could hear us all the way in second class," Tommy agreed.

"Why didn’t they stop us?" I asked, turning from the glassy sea.

Tommy grinned. "Lass, a few stewards are not about to take on all the steerage passengers aboard. That’s like a Frenchman singing La Marseilles in a pub full o’ Englishmen."

I frowned. "Then why do they keep us in restricted areas and give us a curfew? Aren’t they scared we’ll, you know, revolt or something?"

Tommy laughed out loud at this. "Yer too innocent to’ve lived on the streets! Angie, they do it because they’re bloomin’ scared of us."

I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the railing. The coolness of it pressed through my clothing, making me shiver the slightest bit. "How d’you figure that? It sounds like a load of horseshit if you ask me."

Tommy raised his eyebrows like he always did whenever I swore; obviously, people assumed that my size and naïveté meant I didn’t have a mouth on me. "Well…it’s like this, see. Ever since the beginnin’ o’ time, there’ve been poor men and there’ve been rich men. Yeh follow me?"

"Yes," I said, a little annoyed; now he was just being condescending. I wasn’t that stupid.

"Well, poor men have always been led ter believe that rich men were better than them. It’s been that way fer so long that people can’t imagine a different way o’ livin’. O’ course, there’ve always been rebels; history’s full o’ slaves and peasants who fought their oppressors. They’re scared that’ll happen today, so they keep us penned in like farm animals and treat us like prisoners, jest like the pharaoh did ter the Hebrews. ‘Course, they had Moses."

I was stunned by Tommy’s speech, as I’m sure Fabrizio was as well. Tommy, well…he just didn’t seem like the type who cared much for history. And although I understood his little monologue, there were still some missing pieces. "Okay…but how does that explain why they won’t stop us from having parties? We’re being loud and getting drunk…aren’t those reasons enough for them to come…do something?"

Tommy gave me a smirk that I dearly wished to smack right off of his face. "Angie, let me put it this way: Who in their right mind would tell hundreds o’ drunk, strong men who were already bein’ treated like prisoners to pipe down?"

He had me there.

*****

We didn’t see Jack again until lunchtime. My morning had been rather uneventful; Fabrizio tried to teach Helga English in the public room while Tommy, Bjorn, Olaus, and I played cards. Tommy and I taught the two Swedes Gin Rummy, a game they took to eagerly. The McFarland children were both suffering stomachaches; apparently, they had overindulged in dinner the night before. After Bjorn won Gin Rummy three times in a row, Tommy declared that it was beginner’s luck and that it wasn’t even a real card game. Luckily, lunch was announced at that time; otherwise, Tommy would probably have been in a sour mood for a long time after that. Jack came in ten minutes after we did, looking frustrated as he grabbed a roll.

"Where’ve you been?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Getting kicked outta first class," Jack said unhappily. "They wouldn’t let me in the service."

"But it’s open to everyone," I said, confused. "Was it because you were late or something? Or maybe they didn’t have enough room?"

Tommy shook his head before Jack could answer. "They kept him out fer a reason, lass."

I knew the reason: Rose. I knew it; she had had fun the night before, but she didn’t want to see Jack anymore, so she asked the stewards to keep him out. It wasn’t entirely impossible. I lowered my eyes, cutting up my pork.

"I am a-sorry, Jack," Fabrizio said truthfully, looking sadly at Jack.

Jack tapped his thumb against the edge of his plate for a minute. He glanced around and then leaned in. Fabrizio, Tommy, and I imitated him, knowing he didn’t want too many listeners. "You guys saw her last night, right?"

"Um, yes, Jack, we did," I said sarcastically. Jack and Tommy both threw me warning glares, causing me to feel somewhat sheepish.

"Anyway…I need to talk to her. Just for a few minutes, just to…to make sure of something," Jack explained, running a hand through his hair. "I…I need some help."

"What, romantic advice?" I asked, genuinely thinking that’s what he meant. "In case you haven’t noticed, Jack, we’re not exactly the best people to ask about that kind of thing."

"I don’t mean that, Angie!" Jack snapped. I shrunk back in my seat; Jack never snapped at me. Never. On the rare occasion he spoke harshly, he always apologized for it and made up in some way. This time, however, he just turned back to Tommy and Fabrizio, looking not the slightest bit apprehensive. "I need you to help me get into first class."

"Jack, yer mad," Tommy said immediately.

"Aw, come on!" Jack said hotly. "I’d do the same for you!"

"Yeah, but none of us are stupid enough ter get into somethin’ like this," Tommy said dryly. I felt a surge of admiration for him at that moment.

"Just, just help me out, okay?" Jack asked, frustrated. "I just…I just need to ask her something. Just one thing."

We were silent for a moment. Then, Fabrizio mumbled that he would help. Tommy growled and agreed he would, too. They all looked at me then, and I knew I had no choice. I was going to help Jack break my heart. It was horrible and poetic and painful all at the same time. When we were finished with lunch, we followed Jack out on deck and to the second class deck. Even though Tommy had agreed to help, he kept trying to convince Jack that it was fruitless. I wanted to vocally agree with him, but I didn’t want to make Jack more mad at me than he already was.

"She’s a goddess among mortal men, there’s no denying, but she’s in another world, Jackie! Forget her! She’s closed the door! Just forget her!" The whole time Tommy was saying this, we climbed up on a sort of platform on the second class deck so that we were right below first class. "He’s not bein’ logical, I tell yeh!" Tommy said hopelessly to Fabrizio and I as Jack jumped up and peered through the railing above.

"Amore is in-illogical," Fabrizio said in a would-be wise voice as Tommy knelt down and laced his hands together to give Jack a boost.

"Help me, yeh good-fer-nothings!" Tommy snapped. I pushed up Jack’s other foot until he was high up enough; then, he swung his legs over the railing and disappeared.

We jumped off of the platform and headed towards the gate just as the steward we had encountered (and annoyed) the other day appeared around the same corner we had last seen him. "Here, you!" he said angrily. "Get back where you belong!" Judging by the glower in his voice, he recognized us.

We were already hurrying down the steps.

"We go, we go!" Fabrizio said quickly as the steward closed the gate firmly behind us.

"He’s a bloody idiot," Tommy muttered, pulling out a cigarette.

"Well, he’s just doing his job," I said, shrugging.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "I was talkin’ about Jack, lass, not the bleedin’ steward. Although he is a git, too."

"Oh," I said, coloring up. "Well, he’ll forget about her before long. She’s not going to take him seriously. And that’s not just wishful thinking, either." I added the last part quickly.

"Aye, I agree with yeh there," Tommy said seriously. "He’s got his head up in the clouds."

I glanced over at Fabrizio, who had been silent during this exchange. He looked uncomfortable, prompting me to ask him what was wrong.

"It’s just…" he began, obviously unsure of how to word it, "it’s just that maybe…Angie, maybe you are a-letting your jealousy…what is the word? Get the better of a-you."

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Fabrizio di Rossi obviously didn’t know this, because otherwise, he would have kept his mouth shut.

"I am not!" I declared in a loud and rather childish voice. A few people nearby looked up and, seeing that a little girl--for I didn’t look like an adult until well into my twenties--was growing upset with a foreigner, they merely shrugged and turned back to their lives.

"Please don’t a-be upset with a-me, Angie," Fabrizio asked in a wheedling sort of tone.

"I’m not upset!" I lied. "I just…I’m not letting my jealousy get the better of me! I mean…I’m not…argh! I just don’t like Rose and I know that she can’t possibly truly love Jack. Tommy, help me!" I practically begged, whipping around to plead with Tommy.

Tommy had been silent during our little altercation, dragging away on his cigarette and blowing out the smoke like the arrogant prick he could be at times. He took his time in backing me up; Fabrizio and I had known each other for a long time, far longer than Tommy had known us, and he was hesitant to get involved in something between the two of us. "Well…I do agree with yeh that Jack needs ter forget the lass. But…"

"Uh-oh," I muttered, knowing full-well that the but was going to be a blow to me.

"But…well…maybe…I think that maybe you should forget about it as well," Tommy said the last part in a low rush, and if I hadn’t been so caught up with my friends’ betrayal, I would have seen that he was actually making an effort to be kind, something no one should ever take for granted from Tommy Ryan.

I chewed at the inner corner of my mouth at the juncture where the lower lip arched and met the upper lip. They were both watching me now, both waiting to see what I would do next. I felt rather like an animal at a zoo. "All right then," I finally said. Still, their stares were burning into me. "What?" I snapped after a few moments, turning and resting my forearms on the railing so that I didn’t have to look at them.

"Nothin’," Tommy said calmly, leaning his back against the railing and lighting up a new cigarette.

"Jack!"

I turned to look at Fabrizio, who had straightened up and was looking, surprised, at where Jack Dawson was slowly descending the steps into third class, looking so, so lost and forlorn. Like a puppy dog who had been beaten by his master and wanted to be scratched behind the ears. Or…something like that.

"I take it that things didn’t go so well?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Jack didn’t glare at me this time, which relieved me; his rare scowls in my direction always hurt me. He did, however, give me the most pathetic look I’ve ever seen. There was only one real way to describe how he looked: Heartbroken. I had never exactly been heartbroken; I had just had my heart bruised a few times by Jack and then that time I had to leave Pablo. But looking at Jack’s face at that moment, I thought that I understood perfectly how someone looks when they have their heart broken.

"Oi, Jack, what’s with yeh?" Tommy asked brusquely. "Lass didn’t reciprocate?"

"Shut up," Jack mumbled with absolutely no conviction whatsoever.

"I am a-sorry, Jack," Fabrizio said truthfully, putting a tentative hand on Jack’s shoulder as he drew closer.

I felt less sorry, but I said I was anyway.

"Well, don’t say we didn’t warn yeh," Tommy said bracingly.

I winced as Jack rounded on Tommy; Tommy was just asking for it now. I knew that it wouldn’t bother Tommy if Jack slugged him; he would probably just shrug it off. But I still hated seeing Jack this upset. It wasn’t the Jack I fell in love with. Jack clenched his fists, his jaw set. "I know you did," he snarled. "But you just…you don’t understand!"

"What don’t we understand?" I asked quickly, stepping forward. "Jack, she’s not, she’s not one of us. She belongs to a different world. I mean, yeah, we had a grand ol’ time last night, but let’s face it; neither one of you are meant for the other. Just let her go."

Jack’s hard, blazing eyes stared at me in a way that made me nervous. Jack didn’t believe in hitting girls; he didn’t even hit guys who were really asking for it unless they hit him first. But this irrational fear that he was going to physically hurt me came over, to the point where I actually stepped back so that I was beside Tommy. Tommy pushed himself off the railing, casually stepping forward. "Jack, I said it before and I’ll say it again; she closed the door. Yeh’d save yerself a lotta pain if yeh just accepted that now and forgot about her."

"She didn’t close the door; they did," Jack said desperately.

I sighed and stood beside Tommy, feeling considerably safer knowing that if Jack was actually going to go after me, he would have to get through Tommy; not an easy task for anyone. "Jack, I know how you feel, okay? But you—" I began, only to be violently cut off.

"No! That’s just it; you don’t know!" Jack shouted. People were now staring openly, finding this far more interesting than their previous activities. I backed up, only to have Jack advance after me, pointing a finger so that it was almost poking me in the chest. "You don’t know a damn thing about Rose and I and what we have! Just shut up, Angie, just shut up!"

Jack had by now backed me all the way into the railing. I remember gripping the cold metal behind me, my back pressed into it. I was so scared that he was going to push me right over the side; he looked angry enough to do it. I was shaking a little and I even gulped, wanting more than anything for Jack to back up. I had never once wished for him to go away from me, but I fervently wished for it now. I’ve jumped out of moving trains and I’ve almost starved and I’ve been in some sticky situations with some unpleasant gentlemen, but up to this point, nothing had scared me so bad as when Jack had me cornered against the Titanic’s railing, ready to kill me.

"Jack, stop," I said weakly, writhing in my discomfort.

"Jack." Tommy’s voice was harsh and cutting. I even flinched, despite the fact that his stern voice was not directed at me.

Jack gave me a hard look as he stepped back. I wanted so badly to see some regret in his face, just to know that he hadn’t meant to scare me, that I even convinced myself that there was some grief in his expression. Maybe there was; maybe there wasn’t. All I know is that I took little comfort in his stony expression as he turned on his heel and left. And for a minute, I almost followed him. But Tommy quickly put a calloused hand on my shoulder. He shook his head as I swiveled my head to look at him. "Let him go, lass. This mood of his will pass and he’ll be fine again soon."

"I just…" I swallowed. "Men are such babies."

Tommy grinned. "Aye, and proud we are of it. Now come on; I want ter get rid of Bjorn’s beginner’s luck." And with that, he let his hand hang on my shoulder as he and Fabrizio led the way to the public room. I saw the gesture of sympathy for what it was, and I didn’t like it; if the hard-hearted Tommy Ryan felt the need to be sympathetic, then I must have just been…disgusting.

"Am I really so pitiful?" I asked nervously.

"Not, not really," Tommy lied. "Just…uh, Fabri?"

"You are, ah, what is it you would say? Addled? Yes, that is it," Fabrizio assured me.

"Addled is not how I want to come across as, Fabrizio," I said with more than just a flicker of annoyance.

"All right, no need ter be so snappy," Tommy said, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

*****

Unfortunately for Tommy, Bjorn was not undergoing beginner’s luck. He was simply talented at Gin Rummy. This, naturally, frustrated Tommy to no end; Irishmen are stubborn and never admit defeat to Swedes lightly. It took my mind off of my less-than-pleasant Sunday for a time, but no one can avoid the inevitable. I would have to see Jack sooner or later, and frankly, I wanted it to be sooner so that I could get it over with. How does one react, exactly, to an old friend, someone who practically saved them, pushing them into a railing and nearly toppling them overboard without remorse? That sort of thing can’t be taken lightly. What was I supposed to say?

"Well, Jack, shoved anymore young girls against railings, or has Rose gone back to you and now you’re happy as a clam again?" Somehow, I didn’t see that particular conversation working out.

"Lass," Tommy snapped, irritated, after some time. "If yer so damn upset, go talk to the bloody bastard."

"How did you…" I trailed off, surprised he had picked it up so easily.

"Ye’ve been tapping yer foot and it’s gettin’ on me last nerve. Now go," Tommy said shortly, glowering as Olaus congratulated Bjorn. Or so I assume.

I obliged and ducked out of the public room and up the stairs to the deck as Jim plunked out on the piano what sounded like the Maple Leaf Rag. It was getting later in the afternoon and the sun was closer to its descent, creating a chilly breeze. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me and wandered about, looking for Jack. I finally found him at the bow of the ship, staring out at the sea. He looked considerably calmer now, and after taking a deep breath, I hesitantly walked forward. Luckily, he remained motionless as I rested my forearms against the railing. We were silent for a moment.

"I’m sorry," Jack said quietly.

"I hoped so," I admitted. "You’ve never…you know…acted like that before. Not to me, at any rate."

"No," Jack agreed. "I haven’t. And I am sorry, Angie. I just…" He lightly beat his fist against the railing. "When it comes to Rose…I dunno…I guess I’m blind."

I’ve heard of people having strange conversations before, but this one takes the cake: Here I was, talking to the man whom I had been hopelessly in love with for years, talking about being hopelessly in love, but his feelings were directed at another woman. There aren’t many conversations to top that one, I’ll bet.

"Jack…she’s…I know how you feel about her, okay? I really do," I assured him. "And I hate to say it, but there’s honestly not that much you can do right now. You don’t wanna scare her off. It’s best to just…let it be."

"I know." Jack sighed. Yes, sighed. Rather forlornly too, I might add. I was starting to put a face to the character of Romeo I had always heard about and never actually seen before. I was starting to picture Jack in hose and a doublet…not an altogether pleasant image, but one can’t help one’s thoughts.

I chewed the corner of my mouth. "Well, I’m…gonna go make sure Tommy hasn’t killed Bjorn yet."

"What are they up to now?" Jack asked, a faint hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know, the usual." I sighed. "We taught Bjorn how to play Gin Rummy, and he’s beating the hell out of us, which of course is making Tommy very upset. It’s only a matter of time before they knock each other’s brains out."

"Then you’d better go stop ‘em." Jack was smiling as he said it. He was still heartbroken, that much was clear, but I could see him recovering, if only a little bit. I flashed him a smile of my own before turning and heading back to the public room, the breeze lifting up my hair and whipping me in the face. I kept my head ducked down to avoid the wind stinging my eyes. I nearly collided with a first class woman, and when I looked up to apologize, I gasped.

"Rose?"

She smiled a little shyly. "Yes…Angie, isn’t it?"

I nodded.

She fiddled with her dress for a moment. "Could you please tell me…where Jack is?"

I glanced over my shoulder, bit my lip, and then turned back to her. "He’s at the bow."

Rose smiled again. "Thank you."

I nodded tightly and continued on my way.

Chapter Thirteen
Stories