JOHN AND MIRIAM
Chapter Twenty-Three

John slowly made his way toward the second class dining salon. A number of people stared as the bedraggled third class man wove his way through the second class area of the ship walking a dog from first class. One woman stopped him. "Sir, how did you manage to survive?" she asked, half-accusing, half-hopeful, as if his survival both increased the chances of other men surviving and decreased the chances of women and children surviving.

"I was rescued from the water some time after the ship went down," John replied, wearily, wanting only to find Mary and then rest.

"What of your family?"

John was growing impatient with the nosy questions, but sensed that the woman needed to talk to someone, and that his survival gave her hope that her own husband might have survived. "My wife went down with the ship. My daughter...I don't know. I've been looking for her. Someone told me that some of the orphaned children were in the second class dining salon...would you happen to know where it is?"

She nodded. "Go down that hall, turn left at the end, and it will be the first door on your right."

John nodded, and turned to walk away.

"Sir?"

John turned back around. "Yes?"

"I hope you find your daughter."

His eyes softened. "Thank you." He headed down the hall, contemplating. A few days ago, the woman wouldn’t have given him a second glance, considering him to be poor scum, below her lofty middle class status. Tragedy brought people together. John reached the dining salon and stepped inside, apprehensively. A quick glance told him that the room was full of children, along with more than a few parents, some being joyously reunited with their young ones, other walking around in dejection as yet another hope was dashed.

Allegro whimpered in fear at the confusion, and John picked him up, his eyes scanning the room. Groups of children of every class were scattered about the room, some crying, some taking comfort from friends and siblings, others walking about, searching for their parents.

John looked carefully at each of the groups, his heart sinking as Mary did not appear. Then, looking at the last group of children, sitting at a table in the farthest corner, he saw her--a little girl with reddish-brown hair sitting next to another child dressed in Arab clothing. John walked toward them quickly, praying that it was Mary. As he neared the table, he heard the child's voice, speaking in a garbled British accent around a mouthful of something. It was Mary! She was talking to the little girl sitting next to her--Nadia, he realized--trying to cheer her up. As he reached the table, he saw Mary try to offer Nadia a sip of the concoction she was drinking--probably hot cocoa.

"Mary," he called.

She whirled around, dropping the cup of hot cocoa into her bowl of soup. "Daddy!" she screeched, climbing off the chair and launching herself at him.

As Mary wrapped her arms around his legs, he set Allegro down and picked her up. Mary clung to him, afraid that he would disappear. Then the puppy yipped, distracting her. "Puppy!" she shrieked, trying to get down to pet it.

John set her down. She grabbed the animal, almost tripping over her long, damp skirt. Allegro yelped as she fell against him, then jumped up on her, licking her face and wagging his tail furiously. "My puppy, Daddy?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, Mary, he's your puppy now. His name is Allegro."

"Egro," she repeated, hugging the animal. She looked around. "Where Mommy?"

John hesitated. "She...isn't here, Mary."

"Where?"

"She's...gone to live with Jesus."

"Oh." Mary contemplated this, not really understanding. "Mommy come back?"

"No, Mary. Mommy won’t be coming back."

"Why?"

"Because...when people go to live with Jesus, it’s forever."

"Nada's mommy go with Jes’ too?"

John remembered that Kiran had been caught under the falling smokestack. "Yes, Nadia’s mommy is with Him, too."

Mary thought about this for a moment. Her lower lip began to wobble. "Nada's mommy ina sea. Jes’ ina sea, too?"

John took her in his arms, trying to ignore the pain of his cracked ribs as she threw her arms around him. "When people go to live with Jesus, they go up to heaven."

Mary looked at him, finally comprehending, in her childish way, that Miriam would not be coming back. There would be no visits, and Mary would not see her again. She burst into tears. "Wan’ Mommy!" she wailed.

John held her tightly, blinking back tears. "I know, Mary. I wish she was here, too."

After Mary had cried herself out, John picked her up, intending to take her to the infirmary for a check-up before he found a place for them to stay for the rest of the trip.

"Daddy, Nada!"

John stopped and looked back. Nadia was trailing after them, her big, sad eyes watching as John walked away with her only friend. John stopped, hesitating. Nadia wasn’t his responsibility, and he would be hard-pressed to care for another child in America, with no money or resources at his disposal. Still...he turned and took Nadia by the hand. He couldn’t leave the orphaned child behind. She was all alone now, and, despite his own worry and grief, John realized that the little girl would be better off with the one person she knew, than with strangers who would know nothing of what she had suffered.

Chapter Twenty-Four
Stories