SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Fifteen
It was Tuesday. Anne seemed to
feel nothing. Nothing, save the crushing emptiness in her heart. Neither Megan
nor Rose had been successful in trying to cheer her up, but Megan had given
Anne a rather stern lecture on moping about and being shiftless. And so, Anne
continued to help the survivors, but with a rather mechanical, unfeeling
attitude. Until she met a certain child.
Anne quickly walked down the
corridor to the hospital with a pile of blankets. As she entered, she glanced
around, as she was wont to do. Her gaze finally rested on a small boy. He
appeared no more than one or two, and he was sitting beside a young woman. Something
seemed wrong, however, and Anne took a closer look. The young woman’s eyes were
open, but she never blinked. Her face was pale and her pupils were dilated. The
young woman was dead, and Anne’s supposition was confirmed when two men came to
remove her body. She watched as the young boy watched the woman carried off,
first in confusion, then in fear. He immediately began to cry, and Anne rushed
over to comfort him. She scooped him up in her arms and tried to stop his
tears.
"She was his last relative,"
a nurse said as she passed Anne. She stopped to look at the boy.
"Was she his mother?"
Anne asked, as the boy’s sobs slowly became hiccups.
"His older sister," the
nurse replied. She walked off, and Anne was left alone with the child.
Anne looked around her. A man lay
near the woman’s place, and so she asked him if he knew the child’s name. The
man replied that he had heard the boy called Will, and his sister had been Miss
Roster. Anne thanked him, and then proceeded to ask every young woman she met if
she would be willing to care for the child. All declined, and by noon, Anne
found herself without a guardian for the child, who simply looked at her with
big, blue eyes.
"Who is this?" Rose
asked upon seeing Anne with the child.
"His name is Will Roster. His
older sister and only surviving relative has just died, and no one will take
him," Anne replied.
"I’m sure we’ll find someone
in New York. Everyone always seems to have a relative in America." Megan
nodded. "In the meanwhile, he’s quite a handsome child!"
*****
That night, a storm arose. Anne
did her best to calm little Will, who seemed to think that each thunderclap was
the ship hitting an iceberg. For once, Megan, Rose, and Anne retreated inside
the ship for the evening.
Anne sat up most of the night with
Will. She walked up and down corridors for most of the night with him, singing
or talking to him. He seemed to feel safe with her, and Anne did not mind. She
was simply grateful that he had stopped crying.
Wednesday morning dawned dreary
and rainy. The storm had not passed, and Anne was tired of the water. She
thought back to the Titanic, and the dreary sky that had been the backdrop for
her boarding that day not too long ago. The Titanic would have docked in New
York today. She thought of Murdoch, and squeezed little Will even more tightly
to her. What a coincidence that their names were both Will.
Anne, Megan, and Rose spent most
of the day doting on Will and walking about the ship. The young child was a
welcome relief from the sadness that lingered about them, and they began to
almost hope that he had no relatives, so they could care for him.
"Excuse me, Miss." A
rather smart looking man approached Anne. "I’ve seen you about before, and
I was wondering if I might have a word with you. The name is Carlos Hurd, and I
am a reporter for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch and the New York World."
"I’m sorry, but I’m rather
busy," Anne quietly said. She offered a sad but polite smile, then quickly
excused herself. She hated reporters.