THE SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Fifteen

Callista leaned on the rail, gazing out at the horizon before her. The first rays of early morning sunlight broke through the once velvet black sky, casting rays of soft peach over the ship. The young woman shivered slightly as a gentle but chill gust of ocean breeze blew past, and she tightened her shawl about her shoulders.

It was rare that Callista was ever the first one awake, but for some reason she could not sleep. A few stray seagulls cried overhead, causing her to look up, blinking in surprise. She was just about to continue her gaze over the ocean, almost as calm as bathtub water, when she heard someone call her name.

"Callista?"

Sam. Callista looked over her shoulder, watching as he approached her.

"Do you know what time it is?"

She shrugged. "I’m aware, yes." Sam joined her at the rail, smiling softly.

"Couldn’t sleep either, eh?" He leaned against the metal so that his back was to the ocean.

She shook her head. "No."

They were quiet for a moment. "Is it just me…" Sam teased, "or are you actually blushing in my presence?"

One of the Titanic’s officers passed by, greeting them with a soft "Hello" and a friendly tip of the cap. Callista shoved Sam’s shoulder, grinning and laughing.

"I am not blushing!" she cried, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yes, you are." Sam took both of her hands and pulled her close. Callista did not object…she welcomed his affection, in fact. It was rare that he ever showed it in public. She gazed into his dark eyes, a small smile creeping over her lips.

"So what if I am?" she whispered.

He chuckled. "I don’t mind at all." He parted from her to gaze out at the water, taking a breath of the salt air.

"Wonder how cold it is," he pondered out loud.

Callista shuddered. "Personally…I don’t want to find out. Is Michael still asleep?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Naturally, yes." He grinned. "As are most normal human beings!"

Callista rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it." She nodded towards the door. "Would you care to join me for a cup of coffee? We won’t have breakfast until Michael wakes." Her eyes were sparkling, and she felt suddenly more relaxed than she had in days.

Sam nodded, taking her arm. "Sounds like a plan." He opened the door for her, laughing as she curtsied on her way past him. Callista led the way down to the steerage section of the ship, watching as other passengers began to leave their cabins. A couple of children darted past, giggling and squealing, and an array of languages filled their ears.

"Let’s hope the dining room is not crowded," Callista whispered as they pushed the door open. Luckily, the room was mostly empty, with a few early birds sitting at tables by the back walls. A waiter came up to them, smiling and wishing them a good morning. "What can I get for you?" he asked as he brought them to a table and passed out menus.

"Just coffee, please," Sam replied with a nod.

"Two coffees?"

"Yes," Callista answered, smiling at Sam as the waiter walked away. "So." She took a deep breath.

"So." Sam cleared his throat.

"Oh, Sam, this is so awkward!" Callista exclaimed, laughing. "We’ve been working together for years, and the few moments we get to be alone, we can't even hold a proper conversation!"

Sam raised his arms. "Is it my fault that you refused to be alone with me? Don’t forget, you hated me for the first year or so."

"You were much too cocky." Callista snickered.

"No, I wasn’t. You were just annoyed because I was still learning and you were stuck training me."

Callista rolled her eyes, but leaned forward. "Remember the ball where that man nearly assassinated Tatiana? I think that was the first time we actually worked together and enjoyed it."

Sam nodded. "I think it was. And I think if the circumstances were right, you would have kissed me." He winked, making her glare at him.

"Nice try, Sam."

The waiter returned a couple of minutes later with their coffee and set the cups down before walking away again. They listened to the faint rumble of the ship’s engine beneath them while they sipped the bittersweet liquid. No matter how much she tried, Callista hated to admit that she still felt uncomfortable on this assignment. She could not quite put her finger on it, but she had a bad feeling that something was about to happen. "Callista? Are you all right?" Sam asked after a long pause. Callista yelped and upset her cup, catching it just before it fell over.

"What?" she gasped, wetting her lips.

"Fill me in, Callista, before you end up hurting yourself. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting strange since sailing day. Didn’t you tell me yesterday that you were perfectly fine with all of this?"

Callista lowered her eyes, her cheeks turning pink. "Sam, I don’t know why, but something’s going to happen. I don’t know what, but something doesn’t feel right."

Sam raised his eyes in alarm. "You mean…are you having some kind of premonition?"

"I don’t know," Callista whispered. "I don’t know what it is. But I didn’t want to get on this ship, Sam."

"Callista, you have to calm down. I don’t think anything’s going to happen. I think you’re just nervous because this is the first assignment where you are out of your own country."

Callista could not bring herself to look at him. "For the first time in my life, Sam, I’m admitting this to you. I’m scared. I’m really scared," she choked, and Sam stood, walking over to sit down beside her. He pulled her close, leaning his cheek against her head.

"Shh," he soothed, allowing her to bury her face in his shoulder. "Everything’s going to be fine. We’re going to get Ana to America and back in one piece."

Callista nodded, wiping her cheeks with the heels of her hands. "I trust you, Sam. I just can’t help it." She sighed, feeling like a complete idiot. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that. I feel so stupid." She gave a small laugh, shaking her head. "Let’s just finish our coffee and see if we can’t wake Michael. If not, we’ll have to throw him overboard and let the cold water wake him."

Sam grinned, pleased. "That’s my Callista." He raised his mug, hoping for another smooth day at sea.

*****

Meanwhile, Jack awoke with a series of forceful sneezes. When the fit ended, he rubbed his aching chest, coughing hard into one fist. After he composed himself, he slid out of bed and walked over to where his daughter slept on. She made a small noise and turned over, bundling deeper into her blankets. With a small smile, Jack smoothed her strawberry blonde hair, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling dizzy.

Anastasia suddenly started giggling and squirming in her cot above Mac’s, causing him to glance upwards. Carefully, Jack climbed the ladder and placed a gentle hand on the grand duchess’s shoulder before tucking the blankets a bit more tightly around her body. Anastasia’s eyes fluttered open at the sudden touch, and she smiled. "What time is it?" she asked, yawning and stretching her arms over her head. The cabin was not dark anymore, but it was not very bright, either. A faint ray of sunlight flooded through the tiny porthole window. "You can go back to sleep," Jack insisted, checking the clock on the wall. "It’s only 8:30. Mac’s still sleeping."

"Okay." Anastasia nodded. "I dreamt that Alexei’s elephant escaped from the zoo," she whispered, just before he made his way back to the floor. "It was quite funny seeing all of Papa’s soldiers chasing after it on horseback. Alexei suggested leaving a trail of peanuts for the elephant to follow…" She giggled, and Jack put his finger to his lips in a silent shh as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Fabrizio hadn’t heard them. Anastasia blushed, remembering.

"Sorry," she apologized.

"Just be a bit more…" Jack swallowed. "A bit…" He turned his head and sneezed loudly again. "Excuse me."

"A bit more quiet? I’ll try to." Anastasia giggled, laying her head back onto her pillow.

Jack climbed back down the ladder, checking to make sure Mac hadn’t awakened, and then made his way back to his own bed.

It was not until a quarter to ten that Mac, Anastasia, and Fabrizio woke and began preparing for the day. Mac noticed that her father was still sleeping, and frowned deeply. "I don’t think he’s feeling well," she told Anastasia, who stood before the small mirror brushing her thick hair. A small pile of ribbons sat at her elbow.

"He did not seem like he was earlier when he came up to check on me," she replied.

"What?" Mac asked, once she finished dressing and fastened her mother’s locket around her neck. "I didn’t hear him climb the ladder."

Anastasia shrugged as she began to braid her hair, fastening ribbons to every third braid. "Ow!" she yelped as she caught a knot, and mumbled under her breath. Mac tiptoed over to her father’s bed, and gave his shoulder a gentle shake. "Papa," she whispered, causing him to groan in irritation. "Papa, wake up…it’s almost ten o’clock."

Jack turned over to face Mac, still looking extremely exhausted. "Hi, sweetie," he croaked, rubbing his aching eyes. Mac frowned, reaching over to feel his forehead, relieved that he did not have a temperature yet.

"Maybe you should stay in bed," she suggested, just as Fabrizio descended the ladder from his bunk.

"Jack, you look terrible." His eyes narrowed with worry as he bustled about, fetching his things. Anastasia tied the last ribbon into her hair and hurried over to her suitcase, pulling out a white dress with a yellow sash around the middle.

"Thanks," Jack croaked sarcastically, pressing the back of his wrist against his nose. "Honey, I’ll tell you what." He took his daughter’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. "Let me sleep for another two hours, and then come wake me. I’m really not feeling well."

Mac nodded, helping him slide back under the covers. "I’ll take them to the dining room for breakfast," Fabrizio insisted as Jack began coughing again. Mac gave her father a hug, and then watched as Anastasia fetched her camera, putting it over her neck, and took a stack of notepaper and a pen from her bag.

"We’ll be back," Anastasia called, just as Jack closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain as he attempted to fall asleep. Once they left the cabin, Anastasia asked that Mac and Fabrizio stop to pose for a picture.

"This early in the morning?" Mac teased as Fabrizio put a hand on her shoulder.

"No, no, you should kneel down," Anastasia suggested to the Italian, grinning. "Kneel down, and Mac, you sit down on his knee."

Mac stared at her friend, but agreed to comply. Fabrizio knelt down on one knee and let Mac perch on the other. "Are you going to take pictures all day?" Mac asked as Fabrizio put one hand on each of her shoulders and the two of them smiled for the camera.

"Not all day, but I’m hoping to get a lot of pictures to show…" She stopped as Mac gave her a warning look. "To keep in a scrapbook to remember everything. I mean, this trip will only happen once, and I don’t want to forget." She beamed as they entered the dining room, now crowded with people and smoky as usual. Mac was the first to spot an empty table, and dashed for it, sliding into a chair. It was strange being here without her father. Anastasia sat next to her, placing the camera on the bench and the paper and pen on the table.

"What are you going to write?" Mac asked, just as her friend scribbled April 13, 1912.

Anastasia leaned towards her, and whispered the reply in her ear. "I want to write a letter to everyone at home."

A waiter came to their table and took their breakfast orders, walking away quickly. "Oh!" Mac exclaimed, causing Anastasia and Fabrizio to jump a little. "I know what we can do to help my father feel a lot better!"

"What’s that?" Fabrizio asked, leaning back and folding his arms.

"We should try to find Rose, secretly bring them together so that it looks like an accident. I know my father doesn’t want us meddling, but I think he needs her right now. He was so sad last night when the two of us went for a walk." Mac frowned, rolling her fork in her fingers. Anastasia and Fabrizio raised their eyebrows at one another, as though pondering the idea. For a moment, the three of them were quiet.

"How are we going to get up to first class?" Fabrizio asked. "When you went the other night before the party in here, you were invited. It’s not legal to go up there unless you have an invitation."

Mac looked at Anastasia with a wink. "We’ve done worse than this, Fabri. Ana can go up to first class and try to find Rose…"

"Me? But…" Anastasia yelped when Mac stepped on her foot and gave her a warning look.

"You know why I’m asking you to go, and if you don’t, I’ll tell you after breakfast," she hissed, and Anastasia got the point at once. Eventually, their breakfasts were brought to them, along with a certain someone who followed close behind the waiter.

"Mac?"

Mac stiffened, and she lifted her head, noticing Michael, the boy she had danced with at the Irish party. "Oh…it’s you…" She blushed, wanting to sink through the floor. Anastasia grinned, fighting the urge to make kissing noises.

"What are you doing today?" he asked.

"Doing?" Mac turned to Anastasia, shaking a little. "Um…well, we kind of had plans, but…not until noon."

Michael beamed. "Great! Would you like to take a walk with me on deck?"

Fabrizio was nibbling on his toast, hiding a burst of laughter with a cough. Mac glared at him. "I…um…" she stuttered, feeling absolutely stupid.

"If you don’t want to, that’s all right," Michael added. "I’m not pressuring you. I just…I would like some company."

"Go on," Anastasia encouraged, nudging Mac with her elbow.

Mac leaned towards her friend, murmuring, "I hate you."

"You’re welcome." Anastasia giggled as Mac finally nodded to Michael, still extremely embarrassed.

"Where do you want me to meet you?" Michael asked, noticing that they had just started on breakfast.

"Um…how about outside the door?"

"All right. I’ll wait for you." He smiled at the others before turning and heading away. Mac sunk very low in her seat, so that only her forehead and eyes were visible. Fabrizio could hide his amusement no longer, and burst into laughter.

"Oh, come on." Anastasia giggled as she continued eating and working on her first letter at the same time. "How awful can it be to go for a walk with him?"

"Remind me to lock you in the washroom when we get back," Mac growled.

"You’ll thank me later," Anastasia promised. "And we’ll still meddle."

"So…is he…" Fabrizio gestured towards where Michael had been standing.

"No, he isn’t," Mac replied sharply. "I’m not in love. He’s just a friend I met at the party and danced with. And we can’t let my father know about this, or he’ll kill me." She suddenly realized she’d lost her appetite when she turned back to her food. At last, she pushed her plate back, and stood. "That’s it. I might as well go through with it now and get it over with. Ana, meet me in the reception area at 11:45. That should give you plenty of time to go up to first class and find Rose, and enough time for me to wake my father and get him ready. All right?"

Anastasia nodded obediently. "Okay." She smiled, giving a small, pathetic wave before turning back to her breakfast. Mac left the dining room, finding Michael wandering aimlessly by the door. She took a deep breath and smiled, catching up to him.

"Hi," she greeted, and Michael turned, his face lighting up.

"Hi," he replied bashfully, looking down at his feet. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you," he apologized as they began to stroll along the deck. Mac shrugged, holding her hands behind her back.

"That’s all right. I wasn’t that embarrassed. It just sort of took me by surprise." She grinned.

"Good." He turned to her. "How is your father this morning? I didn’t see him." Mac heard a bit of relief in his voice, and fought a smile.

Mac frowned. "I don’t know," she admitted, shaking her head sadly. "He’s sleeping still. I think he’s caught cold." She chewed on her lower lip worriedly.

"I’m sorry to hear that," Michael replied. "Hopefully a bit of extra rest will help him feel better." They glanced upwards as they listened to the seagulls crying overhead, and then back at each other, smiling softly. As they continued walking, Mac felt at a loss as to what to say. Michael certainly was handsome, and it was almost unbelievable that someone else from the palace was on board. Finally, she whirled around, startling him out of his daydream.

"You promised you’d show it to me." She spoke randomly, causing him to step back a pace.

"Show you what?" He cocked an eyebrow, confused.

Mac hesitated, blushing a little. "Your shoulder, remember? You told me you’d show me the wound sometime." She wanted to kick herself after she finished saying what she had said, and she chewed on her lower lip anxiously, waiting for his response. Michael stared at her for a moment, his upper lip twitching.

"You’re serious!" This was certainly not a question he had expected from a girl Mac’s age. Then again, she was very much a tomboy like Anastasia, and probably was not afraid of anything, or very little, in any case. She nodded, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes at him.

"So, are you going to?" Mac Dawson, what are you doing? she thought as Michael’s cheeks slowly turned crimson. At last, he nodded, taking her arm.

"If you’d really like to see it," he replied. "But I surely can’t take off my shirt here, can I? Let’s go over to this corner so you can get a better look." Mac quickly followed him, glancing over her shoulder for any unexpected intruders, and they sneaked around a corner, leaning as close to the wall as possible. Mac watched as Michael took a deep breath, slowly unbuttoning his cotton shirt and pulling down part of the right side. He revealed a small hole just below his shoulder blade. It was dark red, and looked as though it had once been stitched. She gasped, reaching towards it, but not actually touching it.

"Does it hurt much?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in alarm. Michael shook his head, shrugging.

"Not really. I mean, sometimes when it rains this shoulder aches all over, but as for the wound itself, I hardly notice it anymore. The doctor did fix it pretty well." He smiled. "You can touch it if you want to. It’s already healed…just the circular imprint is left," he encouraged, and Mac felt her heart flutter at the offer.

"Are you sure it won’t hurt?" she asked.

"Of course it won’t. And I wouldn’t say if it did, anyway…I’m supposed to be a soldier."

Mac laughed, shaking her head. "Not really…you’re a guard."

"That’s still a soldier." He winked at her, taking her hand and pressing it gently against the wound. "There, see?"

Mac fingered the hard flesh, cringing at the thought of being shot. "It’s…strange," she admitted, and was just about to pull her hand away when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"There you are!"

Yelping, she jumped, grabbing onto Michael in terror. When she glanced over her shoulder, she nearly sank to the floor with relief. Rose stood a few inches away, smiling softly at them. Michael quickly re-buttoned his shirt, giving a formal bow. "Rose, you scared me," Mac panted, covering her heart with her hand. "Wait a minute…" Her eyes widened when she remembered what she’d told Anastasia to do earlier in the dining room. "What are you doing here?"

Rose cocked her head to one side. "Well, I was coming down to find your father, actually. I wanted to talk to him about something."

Mac started to tell her that he was sleeping late when she heard, "Rose DeWitt Bukater! What a surprise!" Jack approached them, looking weary but certainly much better than he had when Mac ad left him earlier. She stood watching her father with her mouth hanging open. Michael noticed this, and shut her jaw, just as Jack came to kiss her on top of the head.

"Hi, pumpkin," he whispered.

"Papa, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?" Mac asked, once she managed to find her voice.

"I couldn’t fall back to sleep, so I decided to come out and get some fresh air." He glanced at Rose and smiled. "And I’m glad I did." He extended a hand and she took it, blushing when he kissed it gently. "Sweetie, where is Ana?" he asked, turning back to his daughter, noticing Michael for the first time. Mac chewed on her lower lip, feeling the tension in the air.

"Papa, this is Michael. We met at the steerage party. And Ana’s with Fabrizio in the dining room."

Jack looked at Rose, who squeezed his arm. "It’s all right, Jack. He looks perfectly harmless."

"Well." He cleared his throat. "Rose, would you like to go for a walk on deck?" He tried his best to hide his sniffles, not letting them get the better of him. She nodded, smiling widely.

"I would love to."

Jack turned to Mac and stroked her hair, planting another kiss on her head. "Be careful, honey. I shouldn’t be back too late. Just keep an eye on…" He looked at Michael, who had his eyes slightly downcast.

"I will, Papa," Mac promised, and Jack took Rose’s hand and led her away, leaving the children behind. Once he was out of earshot, Mac stomped her foot on the ground and clenched her fists. "Oh!" she groaned, leaning her head against the plaster. Michael raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Are you all right?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"Well, yes, but Ana and I were supposed to set them up together. Ugh. Well, come on, I have to go down and let Ana know she doesn’t have to go up to first class after all." She smiled at Michael with a wink. "And I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you, either. Maybe we could play marbles or something." She took his arm and pulled him back towards the dining room.

Chapter Sixteen
Stories