EVERYTHING’S NOT LOST
Chapter Seven

I’m surprised I managed to get myself dressed this morning. As strange as that sounds, I had the strangest dream last night—one that actually woke me up in the middle of the night. It was so vivid, it was almost as if I was living through it. It felt that real. I must’ve had Harold Lowe on the brain, because the dream in question was about him. Strange, I know. It doesn’t make any sense! I barely know him—and yet, I’m dreaming about him?

It was about last night, I remember that much, at dinner. Ismay was drinking, which is not all that unusual, Harry and Will were dancing to some fast-paced music played by the ship’s band, and I was trying to not vomit from the food, which was filled with bugs and other disgusting things I can barely remember. Strange.

My father had the need to guilt-trip me this morning, during breakfast, that we had been on this ship for a few days, too long according to him, and that I had yet to receive my well-deserved tour.

"You know, we’ll be off the ship and you still haven’t gotten your proper tour," he had said as one of the stewards left from serving us breakfast this morning. He smiled at me. "I’d still like to show you around, Antoinette. You’re my daughter, I want to show you what will someday be yours." I remember just staring at him. Never in a million years, did I expect such a reason as to why I must be shown around the ship.

"We’ll go after we eat," I said simply. "You can show me Titanic and everything else in between afterwards. Is that okay?" He nodded.

"Better late than never, I suppose," he had murmured.

"You’re right, better late than never." I shook my head of the memory. I can’t believe I’m just standing here now, in front of two of Titanic’s two steering wheels as my father was explaining something. The Captain was standing beside him, along with Ismay, and to me, they merely seemed to be discussing Titanic’s mechanics amongst themselves and not to me. I know that’s not the case, but that’s how it feels. Well, at least Ismay’s not staring at me. No, he is.

I can’t stay focused. I need to, because it is my father’s ship and he’s so proud of it, but how can I stay focused? I could really care less about steering wheels. As I glanced around the window-filled room, looking out into the open sea, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this. I am bored out of my mind.

"Why are there two?" I asked him suddenly, gesturing to the steering wheels.

"We only use one near shore," my father responded, with a smile.

"Another ice warning, sir," said a familiar voice. I looked up from the hardwood floor and standing there, with a sheet of paper in his hand, was Harold Lowe, the man literally of my dreams. "This one’s from the Northern." The Captain took the sheet of paper from him and Harold stood there, managing a nod at me. I nodded back at him.

"Thank you, Harry," the Captain said, stuffing the piece of paper in his pocket. "Oh, not to worry," he told me. "Quite normal for this time of year."

"It’s just a precaution," Ismay had the need to say. My father grimaced at that comment, looking as if he was getting ready to roll his eyes.

"Harry, thank you," the Captain repeated when he realized Harry wasn’t gone yet. "You can leave now."

"Oh, yes, of course." He smiled at me before hesitantly walking away.

"Mr. Ismay, these officers you chose need to be properly trained." Ismay looked away from me to the Captain, raising an eyebrow.

"Captain, they were trained." The Captain sighed, rubbing his forehead before gesturing to me.

"Well, Miss Andrews, what do you think so far?" Change the subject. Good call, my friend.

"Incredible." That’s all I can really say—considering I haven’t been listening. "But, what are those for?" I gestured to the phone-like device hanging on the wall behind one of the ship’s steering wheels, along with a map overview of Titanic, with buttons that look as if they could be lit.

"Well, we use that to talk to the people up in the look-out," the Captain explained, walking towards the phone device.

"The buttons…?"

"They close water-tight doors," my father began. "They’re in the boiler room and once they’re activated, obviously, they keep water from invading the rest of Titanic." Ismay began laughing.

"Thomas, another sure sign of waste aboard this ship!" His glare turned to me as my father sighed heavily. "Miss Andrews, this ship—as I’ve said before, is unsinkable. Watertight doors is just something that your father—" I don’t even want to hear any of it.

"I’m sure my father knows what he was doing when he built her." I shot a look at my father and the Captain, who both look somewhat relived.

"Either way," Ismay concluded, clearing his throat, "just like those lifeboats, it’s a waste. We could’ve added another swimming pool for the price of those doors."

"We only needed one swimming pool," my father said between clenched teeth. "Besides, Titanic can only stay afloat with four compartments filled with water. Another swimming pool would’ve made five." Ismay gave my father the dirtiest look I had ever seen anyone give another human being.

"Daddy, why don’t we go on the boat deck, hmm?" I asked, taking his arm, unsure of what else to do before someone got killed. He hesitated before nodding at me.

"Of course, honey. We’ll go to the—the—"

"The engine room…?" I suggested.

"Sure." He nodded to the Captain. "Well, we’ll leave you in peace, Captain. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us."

"Come now, Thomas, you know, anything you need…" His voice trailed off as my father smiled. We began our way towards the exit, Ismay at our heels, and as we turned right, an officer carrying a tea cup practically fell into me. A lot of collisions these days it seems, doesn’t it? Tea went flying and a few drops managed to hit me, but I quickly brushed them off as the officer turned blush red under his hat. I can’t make out his face, though.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss—" He looked up from the porcelain cup to me. "Antoinette." Will. I should’ve expected it. Woman-less Will, yet another man, literally, of my dreams.

"Dear boy, keep your eyes on where you’re going!" Ismay had the need to say, sounding aggravated as he brushed past us and out of sight. "I’m off!" Thank God. Will blushed a beet red again and I shook my head.

"Don’t worry about it," I said, trying not to make a big deal out of the situation no one meant to cause. Ismay, I think, just likes to cause scenes, especially on a ship he can say he practically envisioned. Men. Egos. Such a mix is never a good combination. He managed a slight laugh, Will, as he placed down his tea cup on a nearby ledge and took off his hat, bowing slightly to me before placing it back on his head.

"And hello to you, Mr. Andrews," Will said graciously.

"Hello, Will."

"And where are you off to this fine morning?" he asked my father.

"Just a tour around the boat deck. Would you like to join us?" The Captain appeared in the doorway at that moment and Will glanced at him.

"If I get the permission to do so, I’d love to." The Captain nodded.

"Go on ahead. I won’t be needing you for a couple of hours. Enjoy the ship while you can."

"Yes, sir." He glanced at me. "I suppose I’m free for the day. I don’t want to intrude, though—"

"No, you’re not." He gave me a skeptical look. "Really." Managing a smile, he offered me his arm, which I graciously took. What else was I supposed to do? Say, "Oh, no thanks"? I can’t just do that—I already broke this man’s spirits once during the voyage.

"Now, where were we off to?" my father asked me.

"The engine room."

"Oh, yes. Right, right this way." He brushed past us and we began to follow him down the deck, trying not to hit into other first-class passengers. Goodness, my father can walk briskly when he wants to!

"Do we actually plan on keeping up with him?" Will asked me when my father seemed almost too far ahead of us to catch up to.

"I think we’re supposed to," I responded. I went to take another step to catch up, when I was stopped towards the ground. Looking down, I realized my dress was caught in one of the large white hooks, well, just holders, are they—that held the lifeboats on deck in place. Will stopped when he had walked a few steps and noticed I was nowhere to be found. "Will, I think I’m stuck." I kneeled down, attempting to untangle my skirt from the large white circle impeding my journey.

"You’re stuck?" he asked me, confused, kneeling down beside me.

"The skirt got stuck!" I laughed.

"Oh, Ann! I wanted to—" My father stopped suddenly, turning towards us. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he ran towards us, now knowing we were nowhere behind him. "Are you alright?" he asked me, concerned. I looked up momentarily, nodding.

"My skirt got stuck in this." I gestured to whatever was holding the lifeboat down.

"Antoinette, let me try," Will said as I refused to let my hands stop my pathetic attempt to untangle myself. I sighed, shrugging my shoulders as Will took over.

"Well, you at least get to see them up close," my father laughed. I smiled at the joke as he knocked his hand against the lifeboat. "They’re sturdy, anyway."

"If you don’t get caught up in them first." I sighed as Will continued to unhook me.

"Must you wear such elaborate garments?" he asked me.

"It was my mother’s idea," I said, putting the blame back on her. "She packed." He unhooked one last bead and I was free.

"There!" He smiled triumphantly. "I just saved the Master Shipbuilder’s daughter! Do I get a medal?" I laughed as we both stood up to our full height again.

"What would you like?" I asked, still laughing. My father had this enormous smile on his face.

"How about dinner?" Will asked me in a suddenly serious tone.

"Dinner?" Harry. I had such a nice time with Harold Lowe, I—

"Consider it a rain check," he offered. A rain check from last night, I suppose…Oh, what am I to do? He did unhook me from the evil lifeboats—they are evil in the mind of Bruce Ismay, so I suppose I owe him this favor. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. Wait, what am I even saying? I have no idea what I’m talking about!

"Antoinette Andrews, are you going to contemplate it all night or take the nice gentleman up on his offer?" my mother’s voice rang through my ears, but none of it made sense. I don’t know why, but I robotically nodded.

"I’d love to," I choked out. Will’s demeanor changed completely, as if I had made his year.

"Great!"

"Let’s continue on to the engine room, then," my father decided, beginning to make his way down to the deck. I took Will’s offered arm and here I am, with one of the men of my dreams. I have no idea what I’m doing. I should’ve just stayed in my suite where I belonged. I go out into the world and for some reason, I break someone’s heart. I should’ve stayed in England where I belonged.

Chapter Eight
Stories