JOHN AND MIRIAM
Chapter Twenty
John tumbled into the huge chasm as the ship
split in two. Unable to grab onto anything to break his fall, he fell one deck
before slamming into the broken floorboards. A sharp pain went through his
ribs, but the blow had saved his life. Instead of falling deeper into the
broken ship, he tumbled out into the water, falling in just a few yards from
the ship. Struggling to the surface, he broke through the icy water just in
time to see Miriam lose her grip on the railing and fall into the water. As she
disappeared beneath the surface, John lunged toward where he'd seen her fall. Taking
a deep breath, he dove under the water. At first, he felt nothing but the icy
water and the pain of his cracked ribs. As the cold water numbed him, however,
he was able to concentrate upon finding Miriam. Groping desperately, he found a
handful of long, blonde hair. Pulling, he brought them both up to the surface.
Miriam choked, gasping for breath, as she
broke the surface. John let go of her hair and grabbed her arm, holding her up
out of the water. As soon as Miriam could speak, she gasped, "We have to
get out of here! The ship is going to suck us down!"
Already, the ship was rising out of the water
again, the stern vertical with the water below. It bobbed up and down, but the
sounds of water exploding up inside it warned of its imminent demise.
John nodded, realizing that she was right.
Although he had never been on a ship before, he had spent enough time by the
water as a child to understand how such things worked. "Grab onto my
lifebelt," he told her, gesturing to one of the ties in the back, farthest
away from his injured ribs. "I m going to try to swim away from here. I
want you to hold on and kick your feet to help propel us through the
water."
Miriam grasped John's lifebelt as he began to
swim in the direction of some floating debris. Kicking her feet, she felt the
pull as the ship began to disappear under the water. The suction was powerful,
but John and Miriam managed to stay afloat. Reaching a floating deck chair,
they watched as the flagpole--and the last of the people on the ship--disappeared
beneath the surface.
In moments, the water was full of people
thrashing and screaming, begging for help from the lifeboats assembled some
distance away. Some people tried to swim toward the boats, while others fought
over bits of floating debris, trying desperately to survive until help came.
John looked toward the boats, wondering if
they could possibly swim far enough to get into one. He wanted to try, but
common sense told him that they would never make it. His ribs, though numbed by
the cold, still ached, and he feared that any extra movement would injure them
further. He also doubted that Miriam had the stamina to hold on all the way to
the boats, and there was no guarantee that he could get them into one, even if
they did get there. He briefly considered attempting to swim to the boats and
get help, but realized that help might not come in time to save Miriam,
especially if something should happen to the deck chair they were clinging to.
Miriam would be unable to even stay afloat in the water.
Miriam was having similar thoughts. "I
don't think we can swim over to the boats," she told him, her teeth
chattering against the cold, "but maybe we can get into one once they come
back for survivors."
John looked doubtful. He recalled Miriam's
story of Caledon Hockley beating away people who tried to climb into the
lifeboat. Several minutes had passed since the ship went down, but the boats
showed no sign of coming back. The screams and cries for help in the water were
beginning to quiet.
Miriam was still hopeful. "All the
screaming people might well have pulled a boat down, but now that things are
getting quieter, maybe the boats will come back. There might be enough space
for all the survivors."
John didn't reply. The screams had quieted
around them, and he could hear a few voices from the area of the boats. He
pulled himself up on the chair, trying to see what was going on, but dropped
into the water again as the chair tipped and nearly went under.
"Maybe," he told her.
The cold water was chilling them both. John
put an arm around Miriam. "Miriam, if I don't make it, I want you to take
Mary and the baby to your parent's home. I know you didn't part on the best of
terms, but they're still your parents and they'll take care of you until you
can get back up on your feet."
He stopped. Miriam's face had crumpled at the
mention of the baby. "Miriam, what’s wrong? Is something wrong with the
baby?"
Miriam could hardly answer. "When we
fell, John, I...landed on a section of railing, stomach first. There was pain,
and bleeding...I think I'm losing the baby, John."
John's stomach clenched. Of all the misery
that this night was bringing, this was the worst. "Miriam, are you still
having pains?"
Miriam shook her head. "I haven’t felt
anything since after I fell into the water."
John knew that it was probably the cold that
had stopped the pains, but he still tried to reassure her. "Maybe you
won't lose it after all."
Miriam didn't respond. Snuggling closer to
John, she tried to reply, but just didn't have the energy. Gratefully, she
noted that at least it didn't seem to be so cold anymore. She was still
shivering a little, but most of the chill was gone. She just felt very sleepy
now. A deep instinct warned her that it was dangerous to sleep, but her
cold-addled mind didn't listen. Resting her head on John's shoulder, she closed
her eyes.