THE SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Twenty-Two

Devastation was hardly the word to describe Mac and Anastasia’s reaction to the news. They were absolutely beside themselves weeping, inconsolable no matter what Callista or Sam tried to do to comfort them. Fabrizio was in the cabin now as well, his head lowered sadly.

"I must go to him," Mac sobbed, shaking like a leaf. "He’ll need me there…"

Callista stroked the child’s hair, looking at Sam, who paced back and forth across the cabin. "I’m afraid that will be difficult," he replied. "He’s been brought to the first class medical wing."

Mac gulped, surprise on her face. "What…how…"

Anastasia managed a smile. "Rose, of course. We knew she would take care of him. And don’t worry, Mac…you may wear one of my gowns and go up."

Mac choked on a sob, embracing her friend. "Thank you," she whispered.

Anastasia smiled. "Of course."

Mac accepted a handkerchief from Callista, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. "There’s a good girl," Callista soothed, watching as Anastasia pulled out her rose and white colored dress, handing it to Mac.

"We’ll leave while you dress, then," Sam announced, urging Fabrizio out into the hallway. Mac bore the posture corset tying without a struggle, sensing her father’s own pain in her mind. She sighed as Anastasia buttoned the dress, making it look as perfect as possible. After tying Mac’s hair back with a red ribbon, the two of them left the cabin. Everyone smiled proudly at the change, and brought Mac to the outdoor reception area. Mac had only been here once at night, and that had been with her father.

She noticed the bench they’d snuggled on, and tried very hard not to break down in tears again. Sam and Fabrizio allowed her to stand on their shoulders so she could get a firm grip on the rail.

"Aren’t you coming?" Mac asked Anastasia, who shook her head.

"No, Mac…I think you should go alone this time. He’ll need you, not me."

Mac managed a small smile, and nodded. "Okay."

"Good luck, Miss Dawson," Sam whispered, and she raised her eyes nervously before heading for the hospital.

*****

Rose sat beside Jack’s bed, holding onto his clammy hand. The nurse had put him into a thin nightshirt, then into bed under a single sheet and blanket. His eyes were closed, bearing dark circles beneath them. He made no movement to acknowledge her, even when she pressed his hand against her lips in a soft kiss. She reached over to the bowl of lukewarm water, ringing out the rag that hung over the edge, and began to blot his hot forehead.

She barely noticed when Mac came towards her, and jumped when the little girl whispered, "How is he?"

Rose whirled around, and for a moment, shock prevented her from being able to saying anything. "Oh…" she finally breathed, and stood to wrap her arms around Mac. " I’m so sorry…I didn’t know…" she sobbed. "I didn’t know!"

Mac rubbed Rose’s back, biting her lower lip. "It’s okay," she insisted, watching as her father squirmed a little. "You wouldn’t have known unless he told you. He’s a little too good at hiding these things." She released her grasp and stepped back. "Has he woken up at all?" she added, and Rose nodded.

"Not long after he fainted," she replied, "but that was only for a short time, and he hasn’t woken up since."

Mac moved to her father’s side, gently caressing his forehead with her fingertips. He moved again, his eyes fluttering beneath their lids. "He knows I’m here," she explained. "We’re so close now that we can almost feel each other. Pain, sadness, happiness, I can feel all of that in him…kind of like our minds are linked."

Rose stared at Mac, not knowing what to say. Then she thought of Coddie Anna, and wondered if she had the same type of connection with her daughter. They, of course, came from a very different class, and given the circumstances did not have a lot of time to sit together alone. There was no doubt at all that Rose loved her daughter or that Coddie Anna loved her mother back, but their personalities were so different that they often clashed. Oh, God, we’re turning into duplicates of my relationship with my mother, she thought, shuddering.

Speaking of Coddie Anna, Rose tapped Mac’s shoulder. "I’m going to go and check on Coddie Anna and let her know where I’ll be, because I have a feeling I may be here all night." Mac frowned, nodding. "Would you mind taking my place for a bit? I shouldn’t be long."

"No." Mac was secretly pleased…when her father had been sick at the palace, Alexandra had refused to allow any of the children in the room unless she specifically gave the word. Rose smiled and went to inform the nurse of the newcomer. Before leaving, she kissed Jack on the cheek and Mac on top of the head.

Mac turned back to her father once Rose was gone, and took his hand. He murmured something inaudible before his eyes slowly opened halfway. Mac’s breath caught in her throat as he turned slowly towards her. His eyes were bright with fever, she noticed, as he tried to focus on her face.

"Alyiah?" he whispered, causing her to break down at last. Her shoulders shook as she cried softly.

"Papa, no…it’s…it’s me," she choked. "It’s Mac…please remember." She rested her forehead against the edge of the mattress. He coughed, gasping for air afterwards, whimpering in pain. Now Mac could understand why the empress hadn’t wanted her with him when he had been in this state…she couldn’t possibly bear it. Mac lifted her head, massaging his aching chest just as she’d seen Alexandra do. He reached up to take her hand, placing it over his heart.

She watched him do this just as the nurse returned with the ship’s doctor, who seemed a bit surprised to see a child at the sickbed. "Who might you be?" he asked, setting his black leather bag down, and Mac read the gold lettering on the front--Dr. William O’Loughlin.

"I’m his daughter, sir," she replied, feeling her heart thudding in her chest.

Dr. O’Loughlin nodded, asking her to step aside so he could draw blood for a test. Jack fell asleep again, only flinching a little when the needle was inserted with small tube attached to a bottle. Mac’s eyes followed the smooth red liquid as it was drawn out, and listened to the faint drip as it slowly filled the container. "Is he going to be okay?" she asked, once the procedure was over and the tiny wound cleaned.

"It is too early to tell, my dear," the doctor replied, adjusting the blankets and re-wetting and folding the compress on Jack’s forehead. "But you are much too young to be here all night with him."

Mac’s lips parted, and for a second, nothing came out. "He…"

"Has myself and my nurse to care for him."

"Please, sir, don’t make me leave," Mac begged, feeling her voice shaking. She refused to cry in front of a complete stranger, so she clenched her fists instead. The doctor looked at the nurse, and for a moment neither of them said a word. Mac waited anxiously for their response, and finally O’Loughlin gave a nod.

"I will allow you to stay here for a couple of hours, but then I must send you back."

Mac sighed, nodding. "All right." She decided that the doctor was being kind enough not to boot her out straight away, and she sat back down again.

*****

Meanwhile, Anastasia lay on her bunk, deciding to begin a small diary of their trip. Unfortunately, things were not looking good for them, and her hand trembled as the pen slid across the paper.

She only stopped writing when there was a faint knock on the door, and she quickly glanced at the sleeping form of Fabrizio across the room. He hadn’t stirred, so she set the pen and paper aside to go and answer whomever was calling. Michael stood in front of her when she opened the door, and he had a worried expression on his face. Clearly Callista and Sam had informed him about Jack, so she stepped out to talk to him without making too much of a racket.

"I suppose you know what’s happened?" she whispered, once she had shut the door behind her and the two of them were leaning against the wall.

Michael nodded. "Yes, and I wanted to tell Mac that I was very sorry, but I am guessing she’s not there."

Anastasia shook her head. "No, she isn’t…she’s at the hospital wing. Where were you anyway, earlier?" she added, because Michael usually accompanied Callista and Sam wherever they went. Michael blushed a deep shade of crimson, scuffing his foot against the floor.

"I…er…prefer not to talk about it," he mumbled. "I was just…around."

"P’raps you can go and visit her, then?" Anastasia suggested, and then her expression changed. "Oh, wait, you can’t…she’s at the first class hospital."

Michael looked at her. "I have a tuxedo," he answered. "We were made to pack formal clothes in case."

Anastasia smiled. "Well, then! I’d go and surprise her…I know she’d like to see you."

"Won’t you come with me?" Michael asked, sounding a little embarrassed again. Anastasia grinned mischievously.

"You like her, don’t you?" she asked, and Michael scowled.

"I don’t! I can’t, anyway…she’s much too young, and it would be a great amount of trouble! As a friend I do…" he added quickly, and fiddled with the cap that he had removed from his head.

"Oh, all right." Anastasia sighed. "I’ll go. But just…let me write a note for Fabrizio, in case he wakes up and wonders where I’ve gotten to. He’s supposed to be looking after me, since Jack isn’t here." She took a piece of ship stationery and scribbled a short note before following Michael out onto the deck.

*****

Rose, on her way back to the medical ward, stopped by the first class dining saloon, for an advertisement had caught her eye. It hung on the window of the door, fluttering in the breeze. She peered closely at it, and her eyes widened.

April 14, 1912
Children’s Ball
7:00 PM
Ages Seven and Above

Rose smiled to herself, knowing that this would be just the thing to take Mac’s mind off of the situation. Coddie Anna would adore a ball, as well, for she always loved extravagant parties when she was able to attend them.

Rose did not take the advertisement, but repeated the information in her head as she continued walking. She quietly pushed open the door to the hospital, and found Mac still sitting beside the bed, gazing at Jack’s sleeping face. She walked over to the bed, sitting back down in her seat. "Mac?" she spoke softly, causing the girl to turn her head towards her. "I have something that might interest you."

Mac didn’t smile, but her silence told Rose she was willing to listen anyway. "There’s going to be a ball in the first class dining room tomorrow night, and I think you would enjoy it."

"No," Mac croaked, turning away again, and Rose sighed. She had known this would happen.

"You can’t spend the rest of the voyage cooped up in a hospital. We won’t be arriving in New York for another four days."

Mac lowered her head, and at that moment, the door to the wing opened again, and to Rose’s surprise, Michael and Anastasia entered.

"Mac?" Michael asked, and Mac’s ears pricked. She whirled around, startled, and her mouth hung open as Michael came towards her. She did the unthinkable…she stood up and immediately went into his arms. He held her tightly as she sobbed against him, and he did not even care that she was staining his vest with her tears. He looked at Rose, who stood up and went to try to console Mac. Anastasia stood off to the side feeling awkward, but winced when she heard Jack begin coughing hard. Mac immediately parted from Michael and hurried over to her father, easing him into a sitting position so he could take a good breath.

"Shh," she soothed, rubbing his back.

Rose aided her in the process, startled by how much heat was radiating from his skin. "Mac, please…you shouldn’t be in here when he’s like this. I know he wouldn’t want it."

Michael touched her shoulder. "I’ll take you to the ball tomorrow night. Rose has a point, Mac. It would be good for you."

Mac held onto her father’s hand tightly, easing him back against the pillows. Anastasia held her breath as Mac’s face paled, but Rose finally took her hand.

"Please, sweetie? You’ll have a good time. I promise."

Mac glanced at her father again before nodding at last. "Okay," she practically whispered, and Rose hugged her tight.

"He’ll be in good hands. If he needs you, I’ll send someone to fetch you."

Mac planted a tiny kiss on Jack’s forehead before whispering "I love you" into his ear. He stirred at her voice, but didn’t open his eyes. Michael led Mac away, holding onto her arm, and Anastasia walked beside the two.

"It’s going to be all right, Mac," she soothed, making eye contact with Michael. When they reached the cabin, Anastasia was relieved that Fabrizio hadn’t awoken yet.

"I left a note in case," she whispered as Michael brought Mac over to her bunk.

"Look at me," he encouraged, squeezing her hands, and she did so. "He’ll be just fine."

"How did your father die, Michael?" she whispered, and he shook his head.

"My father died from smallpox."

Anastasia frowned. "Oh, how sad!"

Mac gulped back her own tears. "I’m sorry," she told him, and he shook his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. But your father is strong…he will make it through this. I know it." He pulled a fresh hanky out of his pocket and handed it to her, watching as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "Better?" he added, and Mac nodded.

"A little…but I’m so scared…" She hiccoughed, and he gave her a small smile.

"I know you are. Think of how he made it through the last illness at the…" He lowered his voice. "…palace."

Mac bit her lip…the true reason for her father’s recovery had been Rasputin. It wasn’t until the Siberian monk had prayed over him that the fever had broken.

When she told Michael this, she immediately began to cry again, and Anastasia shook her head.

"Father Grigory is a fraud, I think. He scares me…I don’t think he did anything."

Mac stared. "What?"

Anastasia nodded. "The hairs on the back of my neck prickle whenever he’s nearby, so I know that can’t be good."

"But what about the things he did for your brother?" Mac hissed.

They all glanced up at the top bunk when Fabrizio gave a particularly loud snore, and then turned back to one another.

"I know. But…I overheard Dr. Botkin saying that he’d started giving him a special medicine the week before, and that it takes time for things like that to work."

Mac frowned, not quite sure she believed what she was hearing. Michael glanced over his shoulder towards the door, after hearing a bit of laughter and talk from the hall. "Well, I’d best be getting back," he told them, and Mac immediately hugged him again. Michael hugged her back, and then stepped away.

"The ball begins at seven o’clock, so I will come by to pick you up at 6:30. That way we’ll have enough time to find our way to first class without any trouble."

Mac blushed, and could feel Anastasia’s amused expression from where she stood behind her. "All right…" she replied, and with a final nod of his head, Michael left the cabin. When the door shut behind him, Mac and Anastasia began to undress and to get into their nightgowns. Silent tears continued to roll down Mac’s cheeks as she gazed at her father’s empty, unmade bed. Instead of climbing into her own bunk, she decided to climb into her father’s for the night. She could still smell his comforting scent on the sheets, and hugged his warm pillow to her chest. Right then, Mac knew she would not sleep well that night.

Chapter Twenty-Three
Stories