THE SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Eighteen

Coddie Anna ran as fast as she could away from the steerage saloon, tears streaming down her red cheeks. Tripping over a crack in the deck boards, she cried out and fell on all fours, gulping and sputtering for air. She couldn’t believe she’d said those things to Jack. Sure she disliked him, but her mother did like him, and she’d promised to behave herself. Something inside of her just snapped, and she hadn’t felt as angry since her father had died in the accident.

One of the ship’s officers saw her on the ground and came over, his forehead crinkled with concern. "Are you all right, miss?" he asked, causing her to lift her head, nodding and allowing him to help her to her feet.

"I’m f-fine," she insisted, brushing off her dress, gasping at the large hole that formed in her stocking. She was thankful that she hadn’t cut herself on the wood, but a bruise was forming where her knee had whacked the hard surface. "I’m just…tired." She quickly dashed off again, leaving the officer watching her go in confusion. He shrugged, turning and continuing his daily rounds. When Coddie Anna reached her cabin, she struggled to twist the knob, finally pulling the door open and slamming it shut once she stepped in. A moment later she turned around again, locking it just in case, and threw herself onto her bed, continuing to sob into her arms. She knew her mother would be furious with her, and did not want to deal with it right now.

Daddy, I miss you so much, she thought, sniffling and rubbing her nose with the back of her wrist. Why did you have to die? She closed her aching eyes, her head pounding. Before she knew it, she cried herself to sleep.

*****

Rose made her way to her daughter’s cabin, fuming. She knew Coddie Anna had a temper, but she never imagined her daughter to be so…mean! She noticed that the door was locked when she got there, and knocked hard on it. "Coddie Anna, open this door!" she shouted, taking a deep breath, rubbing her hand over her face. After a moment of silence, she tried knocking again. "Coddie Anna, I am going to count to three!"

Coddie Anna had woken up at the sound of her mother’s loud voice, and sat staring ahead, her face white. Finally, she replied, "I’m not coming out! I don’t want to talk to you!" and covered her mouth with her hands. Now you’ve gone and done it! she thought, reaching over to grab her pillow, hugging it against her stomach tightly.

"Coddie Anna, I am not kidding with you. I demand you come out of there this instant. You are already in enough trouble as it is!"

Coddie Anna felt her heart racing, and prepared to slide down from the bed. Before her feet reached the ground, something made her stop. "No, Mama!" she replied, stuffing the corner of the pillow into her mouth.

Rose sighed heavily, half-tempted to use her hairpin to pick the lock and force the door open. "Fine." She spoke through gritted teeth. "Stay there. Stay in your room for the rest of the voyage if you must. Until you apologize to Jack and myself, I wash my hands of you."

Coddie Anna sat listening to her mother’s footsteps stomp away, and more tears began to pour down her cheeks, quicker this time. When silence filled the air once again, she sunk back onto her bed, trembling. She wished Cal hadn’t gone to the gym, or she would have gladly hidden with him for a while. Snuffling softly, she lay back down, turning her back to the door.

Rose continued walking down the promenade, meeting up with Cal halfway. He was in his exercise outfit, a towel around his shoulders, sweat covering his face and neck. For a moment or two they stood staring at each other, not speaking. Folding her arms, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a rather sharp tone.

Cal blinked. "Last time I checked, Rose, this was our private promenade. I have every right to walk on it as you do." He wiped the sweat away, making her cringe, and revealed a smile when he lowered the towel. "As a matter of fact, I was looking for you earlier, but you were…gallivanting."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?" She felt her heart ache as she remembered what she’d told Coddie Anna, though the child needed to be taught a lesson. Cal was the last person she wanted to see.

"Rose, why be so hostile? I would think you would show a little more gratitude to me."

Rose stepped away. "Gratitude?" she exclaimed. "Gratitude for what?"

Once again, silence overcame them, and Cal thought hard of what to do or say next. "Rose, I have something for you that I’ve been meaning to save for next week, but you certainly deserve it now of all possible times. I can’t pretend to understand why you’ve been so melancholy around me. You know all I ever do is to try to make you happy, Rose."

Rose sighed, closing her eyes. "Please, Cal, do we have to do this right now?"

Cal took her arm. "I would prefer that we did, yes. Come along into my stateroom."

She finally complied, knowing it was better to do so than to continue to argue the point. He opened the door and let her in first, shutting it after him, and had her sit down on the couch. "Wait there, please." He set his towel down, walking into the little room where he kept the large green safe. He opened it, pulling out the blue case he had shown to Coddie Anna earlier that morning, and brought it out into the parlor. Rose fiddled with her brooch, feeling her heart racing as she waited for him to return. When he did, he sat down beside her.

Oh, no, she thought, watching as he pulled open the top, revealing an absolutely gorgeous blue diamond, cut into a heart-like shape. It hung at the end of a diamond chain, and glistened in the sunlight. "Good gracious," she gasped, covering her mouth with one hand and reaching for it with another, as though not sure it was real. "Is it a…" She swallowed, her throat suddenly very dry.

Cal grinned. "A diamond? Yes." He removed the necklace and put it around her neck, fastening it. She watched as he went to collect a small mirror, holding it before her. It hung right at the end of her throat, near the top of her breasts. "It was worn by Louis XVI. They call it Le Coeur de la Mer."

"The Heart of the Ocean," Rose replied, understanding the French phrase all too well. Oh, my God. The Heart of the Ocean felt very heavy on her, and she wanted desperately to take it off.

"That’s right." Cal smoothed her hair.

Rose shifted a little. "It’s overwhelming," she breathed, and that was most certainly the truth.

Cal’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. She looked absolutely stunning wearing the necklace. "Well, it’s for royalty," he told her, his voice soft. "We are royalty, Rose."

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. "You know, there’s nothing I couldn’t give you," Cal added, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She could smell the sweat on his body, and felt her stomach roll with disgust. "And there is nothing I would deny you." He turned her to face him. "If you would not deny me." He paused. "Now open your heart to me, Rose."

Rose stared into his eyes before turning around again and continuing to finger the new jewel absentmindedly.

*****

Meanwhile, Mac and Anastasia aided Jack down the deck after his queasiness wore off from lunch. "I really wish you’d rest, Papa," Mac insisted as he begged them to let him sit down. It was ridiculous…even these short walks were becoming a bit too much for him.

"I’ll be fine, honey. I’m not really in the mood to rest anyway," he told her, once they found a bench and let him get comfortable. Once he sat, Anastasia bounced up and down, feeling extremely restless.

"Jack, can I get my roller skates?" she asked, her deep blue eyes twinkling hopefully as she scuffed the toe of her shoe along the wood.

He chuckled warmly. "I don’t see why not. But you can’t go down alone, Ana."

"I’ll go, Papa," Mac replied, smiling. "You’re too tired."

Anastasia clapped her hands with delight. "Yay! Then you can get yours, too, Mac, and we can race!" She took off towards the steps. Mac kissed her father and squeezed his hand before joining her friend on their way down to steerage. They ran most of the way, only slowing down when they approached their cabin. Anastasia pulled open the door and led the way inside, rummaging in her suitcase for her old pair of roller skates. Mac grabbed hers, and they made their way back up to the recreation area. Jack sat waiting for them, smiling when they each sat down and removed their shoes.

"Now, be very careful, girls," he told them, giving Mac a hand with hers.

"We will, Papa," Mac promised, and before she even had her last skate tied, Anastasia was off. She skated down the deck, doing a slight split and a twirl. Jack stood and helped Mac steady herself by her arms, laughing as she nearly fell against him.

"I’m horrible at this," she admitted, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

"Just hold onto the rail if you have to," he whispered. "I don’t want you hurting yourself."

Anastasia sailed past them again, circling the bench. "Come on, Mac! It’s easy!" she encouraged, moving backwards this time.

Mac stumbled over to the rail and held on, skating cautiously along the edge of the deck. A few passengers were watching them with smiles on their faces; one a mother with an infant in her arms a few benches away. If Maria were there, she would have gone over and scooped the baby up, smothering it with kisses. Jack sat watching the girls carefully, almost wishing Alexandra would come up the steps. She was one of the few people who understood what was going on inside of him. Once he remembered passing the door to her bedroom, hearing her shouting and laughing. "Now, Lily, prove to me that it is comfortable. Run, Lily, run, and let me see how fast you can cover ground with it." He’d nearly been knocked over when Lily Dehn, a close friend of the Empress, dashed out of the bedroom past him. Alexandra had seen this, and encouraged him to come in. "Jack, do you have good taste in clothes?"

"Your highness, I…"

"Tell me, what do you think would look best? I can not seem to decide today." She presented several gowns. All of them were so beautiful, that even he had difficulty answering her. At last, he closed his eyes, and pointed to a white, flowing gown with an array of ruby-colored beads at the neck. Alexandra beamed when she saw the one he had chosen, and lifted it, holding it against her.

"You are very good at this." When he frowned slightly, she cocked her head to one side, worry apparent on her face. Lily soon came back before she could say anything, and Alexandra kindly asked the pudgy woman to leave them for a couple of moments.

"Of course, Madame," Lily added, puffing, as she nodded to Jack and left the chamber. When she was gone, Alexandra took Jack’s hands in hers, and held them tightly.

"You are having trouble today, are you not?" she asked softly.

Jack looked into her eyes. "I am breaking, your highness. My mind is so jumbled, filled with sad memories, memories I can not seem to escape from. I do not know what to do. I feel so helpless anymore."

"Please, please call me Alix," Alexandra insisted. "My poor dear. To lose a loved one is such a terrible tragedy, I am certain. Nicky cried for days after his father passed away a week before our wedding." She brought him over to a chair, letting him sit, and smoothed his hair away from his forehead. "Just sit with me for a little while, and cry if you must. It usually helps to express your emotions as such."

He gazed up at the Empress in awe, absolutely fascinated by how kind and loving she was to the people below her, even to the lowest possible of ranks.

"Ana, look out!"

Jack blinked suddenly at Mac’s voice, and heard a cry, thud, and crash. Anastasia had roller skated right into Fabrizio, and the two of them had toppled to the deck. The Grand Duchess lay sprawled out over the Italian man, the wheels of her skates rolling fast. "Ana!" Jack immediately stood and ran to her side, kneeling down. "My God, are you all right?"

Mac held her breath, wondering if her friend was hurt at all. Fabrizio looked more stunned than anything else, and eventually Anastasia lifted her upper body, laughing. "Oh, how foolish of me!" she apologized, just as the two young adults dressed in black she had seen before came up to her and reached down to help her stand.

"What do you want?" Jack asked, moving forward a step.

"There you are, Miss." The young man spoke, leading Anastasia over to the bench, examining her for any serious damage. Anastasia only found that she’d skinned her knee, but it was not bleeding very badly at all. Fabrizio helped himself to his feet, holding his head. "Does anything else hurt?"

Anastasia’s mouth opened and closed for a moment, and she did not say anything. "N-no," she finally squeaked. "Th-thank you, I think." She watched as the young man cleaned up her cut and stood again, facing Jack with a serious expression on his face.

"I would be more careful with her, sir."

Mac frowned as the strangers left again, turning to her father with wide eyes. Anastasia looked at Fabrizio, who was still rubbing his head, but now seemed more confused than hurt. "Are you all right?" she asked hopefully, and he nodded.

"Ah, yes. Just a bit sore. But who…what…was that?"

Mac shrugged. "Just people who happened to be passing through and felt it would be kind to help," she lied, knowing exactly who it was, but not sure if Callista and Sam wanted their identities revealed yet. Anastasia seemed to be thinking about it, and she chewed on her lower lip, but did not say anything. He wouldn’t, would he? she thought, but then smirked. No. I don’t think Papa would risk it. Unless…no. She jumped when Jack touched her shoulder.

"I’m sorry. I should not have let my mind wander like that. Are you sure you’re all right?" He smoothed Anastasia’s thick hair, and she hugged him reassuringly.

"I’m fine, Jack. It was my fault for not paying attention." She turned to Mac, who was attempting to practice roller skating again.

"I think that’s enough for one afternoon," Jack told her shakily, not wanting the Grand Duchess getting into anymore scrapes if he could help it. Mac pouted as she let go of the rail, steadying herself on the four-wheeled shoes.

"But Papa, I…"

"Mac." Jack gave her a stern look, and she sighed, wobbling over to the bench.

"Oh, okay." He brought her over to the bench, and aided the girls in removing their skates. The passengers who had been watching the incident with worry in their eyes turned away and were doing something else.

One man spoke ridiculously loudly, standing in the corner with one leg crossed. "Ah…lovely, just lovely."

"What, dearest?" asked his wife, the woman with the baby.

"The weather, of course!" His eyes shifted over to the Dawsons.

Mac smirked, rolling her eyes, just as her father suddenly broke into a fit of harsh coughing, tears filling his eyes as he struggled to gulp for air. Mac began rubbing his back, and told Fabrizio to fetch a glass of water. After the coughs subsided, Jack reached up to place his hand against his burning chest. "Papa, I think I should bring you inside now." She felt his forehead. Fabrizio came back with the water a few minutes later, and handed it to Jack.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as Jack drank the entire thing gratefully.

"Papa…" Mac started to speak again, when he gave her an irritated look.

"That’s enough." He spoke sharply, and instantly regretted it when Mac turned away, folding her arms. Her father was so stubborn that it annoyed her.

"Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry," Jack apologized softly. "I didn’t mean to speak to you like that." He touched her shoulder, and she looked at him.

"I just don’t want you to get sick again," she whispered, leaning against his chest.

"Again?" Fabrizio asked. "You were ill before?"

Jack rubbed a hand over his face. "Yes. I had pneumonia," he replied. "Last winter, in fact."

Fabrizio leaned on the rail. "Wow. You must have been lucky to recover so well."

Anastasia rested her head on Jack’s lap, remembering just how dreadfully ill he had been at the Crimea. Her mother never left his side, and the doctors at one point had almost given up on the idea that he would indeed recover. For a long time, Jack lay so still, his breathing very shallow and his skin nearly transparent. Dr. Botkin told Alexandra, "I would give him a day or two, at the most. He is not going to make it. I would advise preparing the funeral arrangements."

Furious, Alexandra refused to do so. "What do the doctors know? They know nothing." She sent for Father Grigory, swearing that if anyone would be able to bring Jack back to them, he was the person. After the Siberian monk prayed over Jack, the fever finally broke in the early morning hours. Everyone was very protective of him for the first couple of weeks, helping him to walk or, at first, taking turns pushing him in his wheelchair. The sudden recovery had indeed been a miracle to the imperial family, but Dr. Botkin insisted all Rasputin had done was to hypnotize Jack into a relaxed state, so that his body could properly heal with the medicines given.

A single tear fell from Anastasia’s eye, and she quickly brushed it away, not wanting anyone else to see.

"Hmm…here, both of you may share," Jack suggested, moving Anastasia so Mac could lay her head on his lap also. He kissed them both, feeling as though Anastasia were his own daughter instead of just his guest and responsibility. Quietly, he began to sing the old lullaby, which soon sent them both into a light doze. "Come Josephine in my flying machine…going up she goes, up she goes…"

Chapter Nineteen
Stories