SAVE ALL WHO DARE THE EAGLE’S FLIGHT
Chapter Five

True to his word, Fabrizio did not get seasick, although he didn’t have much chance to in any case. The journey to Plymouth only took a few hours; we got there at eight o’clock in the evening. It was the first time Jack and I had been to England since we had left America some time ago. It was almost December now and snow blanketed the ground and buildings. It is quite something to see an English city covered in snow. I cannot describe the feeling one gets from looking at it; it is something that one must experience themselves.

After spending the night in an old chapel that some other tramps were sleeping in, the three of us bought some bread and cheese and decided to head towards London. It was really the only English city we wanted to see. You see, I only knew of a few English cities--London, Plymouth, Southampton, and Liverpool. Three of these cities were port cities that I had visited, and I wanted to see a city I had not yet been to already. So, after taking some more bread and cheese, we sneaked aboard a train. This was becoming the most common form of travel for us.

We had to get off the trains at each stopping point; uniformed men checked the cars and were known to go so far as to arrest people like us who did not buy a ticket. Our first stop was in a city called Exeter, which Fabrizio was never able to pronounce. From there we went to Bath, which was supposed to be a haven for the wealthy, and then to a place called Bristol, which I thought exceedingly fun to say. The next train went alongside the Thames, stopping in a place called Oxford. The next train out of Oxford carried us to London, where we stayed for quite some time.

Normally we would have slept under bridges, but London is most unpleasant outdoors in the winter, so we begged kind vicars to let us sleep in chapels and in rundown buildings where we were unlikely to be noticed. Jack’s fingers nearly froze off, but he continued to sketch, trying to keep out of the snow. Many people stopped to admire his drawings, but they had seen plenty of talented artists before and Jack was no exception. The three of us pulled the trick we had in Italy, but modified; Fabrizio would ask for directions, pretending to speak no English, while I would slip some food and Jack would keep a lookout. It worked quite well, and we were so experienced that we only had trouble with a bobby once.

Fabrizio’s twentieth birthday and my sixteenth birthday passed in London. To celebrate the occasion, we spent those nights in a small inn and went to celebrate in the local pub. We bought pork dinners for both of the birthday dinners and even some small cakes from the nearby confectionary. When we went to the pub, we met some lovely locals who happily played cards and danced with us. Londoners of our station, I think I should add, are extremely friendly people. At least, the ones we encountered were. They suggested I try some "’ot fish an’ chips" and even helped me imitate their Cockney accents. I spent another birthday dancing wildly and drinking beer until I was seeing double.

Although a hangover inevitably came the next morning, it wasn’t as bad as it had been before. Jack said this meant I was starting to be able to hold my liquor. I was starting to grow proud of the fact when he pointed out that I was also almost an adult and that was probably why. Almost an adult. I admit to feeling disappointed—so Jack didn’t think I was old enough for him yet. Yes, I had had feelings for Yves and most definitely for Pablo, but…Jack was closer within my reach. I had decided not to dwell on those that I couldn’t have and focus on that which I could have. Unfortunately, it did not work out in my favor.

We stayed in London until March, when the weather had warmed up and we were ready to move on. We sneaked aboard a train bound for the sea-city of Brighton. We encountered some trouble there with some people who did not like Fabrizio—Italians are not very well-received in places other than Italy. In fact, many men have been known to call cowardly men Italians. So, wanting to avoid trouble, we hopped aboard a train that carried us to Portsmouth. We stayed there for a couple of weeks before Jack and I decided that since we had already been there, it would be nice to go on somewhere else.

"Can we a-leave England?" Fabrizio asked one evening as we debated our options. "It is a-so boring here!"

"He’s got a point, you know." I yawned, brushing away a mouse that was skittering around near my feet. Although this was only a mouse, I wasn’t about to let it move freely—hungry rats had gnawed at the hems of my skirts before.

"Well…we could go to Southampton. There’s always a ship goin’ somewhere," Jack suggested wisely.

And so we decided to go to Southampton. We sneaked aboard one last train the next day and jumped off in Southampton before the uniformed conductors could find us. Southampton is where most White Star Line and Cunard Line ships make berth from, so we knew we would find something soon. Now that the weather had warmed up--it was April--we were able to sleep under bridges again. There were a myriad of people we shared these bridges with, not all of whom spoke English.

While in Southampton, Jack, Fabrizio, and I kept our ears open for word of passage for us out of England. Even fewer people in Southampton than in London were interested in Jack’s drawings, so we had literally no money. The three of us continued our "Italian Trick," as we called it. Fabrizio was very good at pretending not to know any English, and I could make myself blend in with a crowd quite easily.

*****

I will never, ever forget the morning of April 10, 1912. Nor will many, for that matter. We were in an obscure pub at the docks where the brand new luxury steamer, the RMS Titanic, was to sail from and make its maiden voyage. It was all over the papers that the newsboys brandished in our faces, and on the rare occasion we got "’ot fish and chips" wrapped in the papers, we would read about it through greasy smears. It was the largest and supposedly fastest ship yet, and the White Star Line was rather proud of it.

The morning had started off normally enough; we wandered into the pub and watched the people boarding the ship. We were sitting near two Swedish cousins, Olaf and Sven. Before long, Jack and Fabrizio had begun to play poker with the two of them. Seeing as how I had never done very well in poker, I pulled up a chair behind Jack and Fabrizio and watched with interest. I grew especially interested when the Swedes threw two third class tickets on the Titanic into the betting pool.

As the game grew more intense, Fabrizio and I grew more and more nervous. We had thrown in possessions that we could have bartered for food or passage later on—now, they may go to two Swedes. Jack, however, was as cool as a cucumber. He just sat there, dragging on his cigarette and looking supremely unconcerned. Finally, Fabrizio leaned over to him.

"Jack, you are pazzo; you bet everything we have."

Jack didn’t seem to mind being called crazy. He took out his cigarette, blowing out a puff of smoke and leaning forward as well. "When ya got nothin’, ya got nothin’ to lose."

Damn Jack and his little aphorisms. Both of the men leaned back, Fabrizio slumping and looking resigned while Jack continued to look self-assured. The two Swedes began to bicker.

"Jack, I swear, if we starve tonight, I will stick my foot so far up your—"

"I get it, Angie," Jack cut across, not even glancing up at me. He turned to the Swede in the hat. "Sven?"

Sven said something in Swedish that I, naturally, did not understand. He was dealt a new card. Jack put one of his cards down and reached for one out of the pile. Olaf drew a shaky breath; he wasn’t doing so well. The pocket watch he had thrown down earlier ticked agonizingly, as if to remind the four players that they could win or lose at any second.

"All right, moment of truth," Jack said, breaking the tension. "Somebody’s life’s about to change. Fabrizio?"

Fabrizio gave him a look and slapped his cards on the table.

"Niente," Jack noted calmly.

"Niente," Fabrizio repeated somewhat angrily, looking as if he could cheerfully strangle Jack. My grip on Jack’s and Fabrizio’s chairs tightened; it all depended on Jack now.

"Olaf?" Jack asked, seeming not to notice Fabrizio’s malcontent. Olaf threw his cards on the table. "Nothin’," Jack said unnecessarily. "Sven?"

Sven was perhaps the least childish; he neatly laid his cards on the table and looked expectantly at Jack.

"Uh-oh. Two pair," Jack noted, looking at his own cards. Fabrizio and I exchanged a look; we silently promised to kill Jack if he lost. He sighed and turned to us, shaking his head. "I’m sorry, Fabrizio."

I let out a groan as Fabrizio bellowed, "Que sorry? Ma vaffanculo! You bet all the money—"

"I’m sorry, you’re not gonna see your mom again for a long time," Jack interrupted, the corners of his lips rising. "’Cause we’re goin’ to America! Full house, boys!"

The three of us acted like complete idiots, whooping and laughing and hollering.

"We’re goin’ to the land of the free and home of the real hot dogs! On the Titanic!" I all but screamed, so delirious I felt I would burst.

"Dio mio, grazie!" Fabrizio shouted to God above, kissing the bills we had won. He threw his arms around my waist and spun me around, both of us laughing and whooping. We had real money now!

As Jack scooped up our belongings, Olaf grabbed him by the collar and said something in Swedish. It looked like he was about to hit him, but he changed directions and threw the punch at Sven instead. We laughed at that, feeling tipsy off of our victory. Well, their victory—I had just watched.

"Come on!" Jack said excitedly, turning to us.

"Figlio di puttana!" Fabrizio shouted, the words affectionate instead of insulting.

Jack took the bills and kissed them. "I’m goin’ home!" He seized Fabrizio and hugged him, dancing around a little bit.

"I go to America!" Fabrizio declared, happier than I had seen him in a long, long time.

"No, mate," the bartender said, causing a hush to fall over the pub. "Titanic go to America…in five minutes!"

"Shit," Jack said. We all three scrambled to pour everything into his bag, our hands trembling excitedly as we did so.

"Gentlemen, it’s been grand!" I declared as I swung my bag onto my back and sprinted madly after Jack and Fabrizio.

"We’re ridin’ in high style now! We’re a couple of regular swells!" Jack called over his shoulder as we dashed to the ship. "We’re practically goddamn royalty, ragazzo mio!"

"And what about me?!" I shouted, nearly breathless. "There were two tickets, Jack Dawson, and I’m not staying here!"

"It’s called stowing away, Angie!" Jack shouted back. "Don’t worry about it! We’re goin’ to America!"

"You see, it’s my destino! And like I told you, I go to America to be millionario!" Fabrizio added, his famous giggling about to surface in his voice. We nearly ran into a couple of horses. "Bastardo!" Fabrizio cursed.

Jack let out a whoop as Fabrizio and I fought to keep up with him, our bags bouncing roughly against our backs.

"You’re pazzo!" Fabrizio shouted giddily.

"Maybe, but I’ve got the tickets!" Jack retorted. "Come on! I thought you were fast!"

"Aspetta!" Fabrizio shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.

We just barely made it; the gangplank was being pulled away from the door--I’m sure there’s a nautical term for it, but for now, I shall call it a door.

"Wait, wait, we’re passengers!" we shouted, running up and catching ourselves at the end before we toppled into the water below.

An extremely crisp officer was leaning out of the door, motioning for our tickets. Jack maintained hold of them; he made it look like there were three. I couldn’t help grinning; maybe we would get away with this.

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" Officer Crisp asked us.

"Of course. Anyway, we don’t have any lice. We’re Americans. All of us," Jack said indignantly.

Officer Crisp looked skeptically at Fabrizio but decided not to push it—the ship was about to cast off. "Right. Come aboard."

We leapt into the ship, grinning and trying not to whoop.

"We’re the luckiest sons of bitches in the world, you know that?!" Jack said excitedly.

Unfortunately, a man sitting at a table sternly motioned us over. "Let me see your tickets."

Fabrizio and I exchanged glances, but Jack, of course, marched right up to the man and held them out unconcernedly. He wasn’t letting go, either, much to the man’s suspicion. He cocked an eyebrow as he read the names. "Gunderson and…Gunderson." He eyed Fabrizio incredulously.

"C’mon, Sven," Jack said loudly, making to leave.

"Where’s her ticket, hmm?" the man asked, obviously not believing us. Well, who can blame him? We weren’t exactly subtle.

"Uh…I think I…left it in my bag. Hold on a moment," I invented lamely. I pulled my bag away by a few feet and hunched over it, my heart pounding so hard that I was surprised no one else heard it. The boys crowded around me, panic evident on Fabrizio’s face and even hesitation on Jack’s. "What now?" I hissed.

Jack glanced around; the man was still eyeing us. Officer Crisp went over to ask him something and Jack seized one of my arms and one of Fabrizio’s. "Hurry!" he hissed, yanking us out of there.

"Hey, you!" someone shouted after us, but we darted away, exploding with laughter.

"How could you have ever doubted me?" Jack asked, putting on a long-suffering expression.

I hit his arm. "That was close, Jack!"

"But the point is that we made it," Jack pointed out, grinning. He led us up to the crowded deck where everyone was waving down at the masses below. We stood up on the railing to get a better look. Jack began waving and shouting, "Good-bye!"

"You know somebody?" Fabrizio asked with genuine interest.

"Of course not! That’s not the point!" Jack explained, pumping his arm frantically. "Good-bye! I’ll miss you!"

I joined in, blowing kisses to imaginary friends and family.

"Good-bye! I will a-never forget you!" Fabrizio caught on. I admit to giggling like an idiot, as did Fabrizio. We were flushed from laughing so hard that we very nearly missed the boat that nearly careened into us. I didn’t see everything, considering I had been waving like an idiot, but from what I could figure, we had almost had a collision. An ill omen for a maiden voyage, no doubt.

"What was that?" I asked, echoing several others.

"I think…we just barely avoided a collision. But nothing happened," Jack observed, leaning far over.

"Well, naturally we were almost hit by something named New York!" an obviously British man joked. Even though I was an American, I found this extremely funny, as did Fabrizio, so our laughter was renewed afresh. Jack just rolled his eyes, grinning. Once we made it out of the harbor without any further mishaps, Jack led the way to his and Fabrizio’s cabin, Fabrizio and I still occasionally breaking into fits of giggles. There was no real reason for us to, which made it all the funnier.

"And just where am I supposed to sleep?" I asked Jack after I had calmed down. "I don’t have a cabin, y’know."

"We’ll find somethin’," Jack promised. "360, 360…"

We passed a pretty blonde girl who caught Fabrizio’s eye. They looked at each for a long moment before she had to turn the corner. I nudged Fabrizio, smirking. "What was that all about, Fabri?"

"Zitto," he muttered, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Ah…right here," Jack called to us, opening the cabin door. "Hey, how you doin’? Jack. Nice to meet you," Jack introduced himself to his cabin mates, one of whom was shaving. It was a bit strange for him to be shaving at that particular moment, right as we were leaving port, but I’m sure he had a good reason for it.

Fabrizio put his bag on the top bunk and climbed up while Jack was still introducing himself. Jack turned around and grinned. "Who says you get top bunk, huh?" he asked, tickling Fabrizio.

Fabrizio, predictably, giggled like a little boy while I dropped my bag onto the ground. The two men looked at me strangely. I smiled. "Oh, don’t worry; I’m not staying here."

They continued to stare at me blankly.

"It was a pleasure, I’m sure," I said, starting to feel somewhat out of place. "I’m going up on deck."

"Hey, wait up and we’ll join ya," Jack said, crawling out from the bottom bunk. "Fabri, c’mon."

So the three of us left the two silent roommates and went up on deck again. It was indeed the largest ship in the world; I grew exhausted just walking the deck. The salty air tasted delicious and the wind, while bracing, was pleasant. A captain on one of the tramp steamers we had sailed on, Captain Argyle, once informed us that the reason sailors are so hungry is because something, probably the salt, in the sea air makes one exhausted and famished if exposed to it for too long. This was true now; I was starving by dinnertime and nearly worn out. I heard that we were stopping in Cherbourg later that night, but I didn’t bother finding out; as day turned into night, the once pleasant breeze turned into a rough and chilly wind.

Dinner was exemplary. Then again, we had been eating moldy bread and cheese and puny fish for a long while, so anything tasted exemplary compared to that. The table we sat at seated six people—the three people who sat across from us introduced themselves as the Cartmells. Bert Cartmell, a jolly-looking man, was very fun to talk to. His wife, Emmaline, was a quiet, smiling woman, and their young daughter, Cora, was the sweetest little girl imaginable. She was quite taken by Jack, especially his drawings.

Over the course of dinner, we revealed to the Cartmells that I was a stowaway. They were genial enough people and we very highly doubted that they were going to tell any of the wrong people. Sure enough, Bert and "Emmy" exchanged glances and turned to me immediately.

"Do stay with us, darlin’!" Emmy began insistently, as if she knew I would refuse.

I should have refused at least once to appear modest, but I wasn’t about to lose an opportunity to have my own bed. "Thank you so much," I said gratefully.

Emmy beamed, satisfied that she had "convinced" me. "It’s a four-berth room, so of course we’ve got an extra bunk. You just bring your things over after dinner and we’ll be ready for you. Right, Bert?"

Bert nodded, swallowing his potatoes. "How’d you like that, Cora?"

Cora, who was still having trouble coming out of her little shell, nodded shyly. I smiled at her and dug into the dessert. After dinner, Jack let me into his cabin--Fabrizio still couldn’t navigate his way around the ship and probably would have gotten me lost--so that I could get my bag. Emmy let me into the Cartmells’ cabin and apologetically told me that they had already chosen their bunks, leaving me with the top bunk over Cora’s. The Cartmells were the kind of people who are so nice it’s incredible and you feel like a horribly rude person around them, just because they’re so kind.

When we returned to the dining room, a party was in full swing. The loud music that I loved so well was pounding throughout the room. My body responded instantly; my hips began to move to the rhythm just as my feet began to move with a lightness only felt in dancing. The music swirled around in my ears, setting every nerve on fire. I beamed and all but skipped off to find Jack and Fabrizio. They were sitting at one of the tables, leaning back in their seats while drinking beer.

"What are you doing?! Get up!" I ordered, tossing my jacket onto the empty chair beside Fabrizio.

"Why?" Jack asked, his body language showing that he had no intention whatsoever of getting up.

"I want to dance!" I whined, almost stamping my foot.

"I’ll a-dance with you," Fabrizio offered over the noise, draining his beer, setting it down, and taking my hand as we headed to the dance floor. My slight disappointment that Jack had not danced with me did not last for long; finally, I was able to dance again! The few times I had danced in England weren’t as exotic as the dances in Spain or even in France; I don’t really know why. Maybe because the music wasn’t as wild and foreign as it was now. In any case, I took to the dancing with enthusiasm, laughing and whooping as we hopped around the room. We twirled each other a few times, nearly collapsing in laughter whenever we did so.

Jack and Fabrizio’s two roommates, Olaus and Bjorn Gunderson, spoke no English but were very good dancers. Jack got up a few times to dance with little Cora; she would stand carefully on his toes as they danced off to the side, away from the more exuberant dancers, such as Fabrizio and I. I tried not to drink too much beer; I had a feeling the Cartmells might not like it if I did that. Since the third class passengers had to be below deck before ten o’clock, the party began to dwindle not long afterwards.

At eleven o’clock, Cora fell asleep on her father’s lap and the Cartmells decided to go to bed. I came with them, feeling it would be rude to come later. Bert waited outside while Emmy, Cora, and I changed into our nightgowns. We crawled under the covers and turned away while he changed. I fell asleep before he had finished changing—I had never been more comfortable than in my illegal bunk on the Ship of Dreams.

Chapter Six
Stories