THE SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mac should have figured that Anastasia would still be awake when they returned, for she practically leapt upon them when they opened the door. She asked all sorts of questions as they came inside, finding Fabrizio lying in bed, reading. "You survived, eh?" he asked, grinning once he saw Mac. She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, tossing a pillow up, which he caught and merely laughed at.

"Did you dance with many boys, Mac?" Anastasia asked as her friend sat down on her father’s bed, gratefully pulling off the ridiculous shoes.

"Oh, lots," Mac replied in a slightly sarcastic tone, cringing as she wriggled her toes in an attempt to regain feeling in them. "Ana, would you like to come up and visit my father again with me? I need to see him, because I didn’t get a chance before the ball. Michael will come with us, so we’ll be safe."

Anastasia nodded, and Michael added, "Bring your coats. It’s like winter out there!"

"Is the water really as calm as it sounds?" Anastasia asked. "Normally I hear waves crashing up against the sides, but I’ve heard nothing but the engine rumbling tonight." She fetched her coat and Mac’s, and both girls put them on, as well as their hats, scarves, and gloves.

"You are all braver than me," Fabrizio told them, grateful to be staying in the cozy cabin.

"Good night, Fabri," Mac told him, and the trio left the cabin again.

"Good night, good night," Fabrizio replied, watching the door shut behind them.

Anastasia yelped when they first stepped outside, and began jumping up and down. "It’s almost as cold as a normal Russian winter out here!" She clung to Mac for body warmth, and the two girls shivered as they made their way to their rail. "You’d think it was wintertime!"

"Well, it’s still cold until at least May or June," Mac replied through her own chattering teeth. They used the bench to climb back over the rail, and Michael took his place as spotter for the other two until they’d gotten over safely. He climbed over himself, and they walked more casually down the first class deck.

"My ears are numb even through my hat." Anastasia giggled, and Mac rolled her eyes.

They turned a corner and headed down a narrower walkway, and stopped before the hospital door. Michael opened it, as both girls were wearing mittens and were unable to get a good grip on the brass. Mac sighed with relief as they entered, removing her accessories. She caught sight of Rose sitting by her father’s bed, and she appeared to be absolutely exhausted.

"Hello," Mac told Rose softly, a bit nervous at how still her father looked in the bed. Michael wet his lips, not moving a step closer unless he was asked to. Anastasia came and stood beside Mac, and the two girls looked at each other sadly. Rose looked at her, pure sorrow etched on her face. "He’s still not doing any better, is he?" she whispered, and Rose shook her head.

"I feel so helpless, Mac." She trembled. "Your father hasn’t woken up at all since you were last here. He’s so hot, and no matter what we do, we can’t seem to cool the fever." A single tear rolled down her cheek. Mac went to her father’s side, taking his hand and squeezing it. His eyes moved under their lids, and he stirred ever so slightly.

"Has the doctor been by again?" she asked, and Rose nodded, more tears falling.

"He is concerned that your father hasn’t woken up recently," she told them.

"He does think he’ll make it, doesn’t he?" Mac asked, her heart racing. Her father’s breathing truly sounded very labored…coming in short, painful gasps. Jack turned his head towards her, swallowing past a raw throat.

"He can’t be sure yet," Rose told her seriously. "How was the ball?" she added, re-wetting the rag that was on Jack’s forehead and blotting his cheeks and neck with it.

"It was nice." Mac motioned for Michael to come closer, so he did. "We…um…saw Coddie Anna there."

Rose paled a little. "Oh…yes. I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you she’d be attending it also. She did not cause any trouble with you, did she?"

Mac shook her head. "No, but we didn’t give her a chance to."

Rose sighed with relief. "Good. I’m so sorry about how she is acting...she’s normally accommodating with most things."

Mac bit back her retort of "In your class", and chose to merely nod instead.

Jack started coughing in his sleep after a moment…deep, throaty coughs. The children stepped away as Rose eased him into a sitting position. "Mac, can you hand me that please?" she asked, pointing to the basin on the table. She did as she was told, and felt sick as she saw Rose hold it under her father’s head. He gagged and choked into it, and thankfully the girls were tomboyish enough not to allow this to bother them too much. Well, Mac gripped Michael’s arm, choking on a sob, and Anastasia grabbed onto her.

"Shh, love, it’s all right," Rose whispered, rubbing his back.

"Mac…Mac…" he gasped, and Mac felt her heart stop in mid-beat. Rose turned towards her, and insisted that she come back over.

"I’m here," Mac said, smoothing her father’s forehead. He opened his eyes, trying to focus on her clearly. "I thought they had taken you," he whispered, and she blinked stupidly.

"Taken me?" She glanced at Anastasia and Michael, who both shrugged. Jack’s eyes suddenly went to Michael, and he suddenly looked horror-stricken.

"What is he doing here? What are you doing with her?" he asked.

Michael looked around the room, and realized that Jack was indeed talking to him. "M-me, sir?" he asked, not liking this. Rose stared at him, and then at Jack.

"Jack, calm down…he’s perfectly harmless," she promised.

"Why did you let him in here?" Jack cried. "He’s going to take my daughter away! Don’t take her! Don’t…" Jack broke into another fit of coughing, and Michael felt as though he couldn’t breathe for a bit, either.

"Michael, don’t pay attention to it," Mac told him. "It’s the fever talking…he doesn’t know who you are."

Michael stiffened. Not that he knows me anyway, he thought, watching as Jack gasped for air, finally falling back against the pillow in a dead faint. Anastasia’s mouth hung open, and she looked as though she were going to cry. But that wasn’t in Anastasia’s nature, so she didn’t actually let any tears out. Mac rested her head on the mattress, crying softly. Jack didn’t stir at her touch this time.

"You three need to go back," Rose told them. "It’s not safe for you here. He’s not in his right state of mind, and I don’t want anything happening…"

Michael touched Mac’s shoulder, allowing her to move so she could let him hold her. "We should go," he told her, and Mac gulped down a protest, knowing that it was probably truly a better idea. Still, she hated leaving her father alone.

"It is very late, anyway," Anastasia mumbled, her voice cracking.

Rose stood up and went to hug each of them, promising that she would immediately let them know if they were needed. Mac kissed her father good night, pulling the blankets closer to his neck as he was shivering, and then took Michael’s hand when he offered it. The trio said good-bye to Rose, and walked slowly out of the hospital wing.

They remained silent for most of the trip back to the rail, and Anastasia walked a few feet ahead of Mac and Michael. Sam stood waiting for them below, a very irritated expression on his face when they peered down. "Where have you three been? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!" he snapped, and Michael looked at Mac.

"We went to visit the hospital wing," Mac told him. "We didn’t get a chance before the ball, and…"

"Well, get down here before you get caught!" Sam replied, making an impatient motion with his arm.

"Too late," Anastasia told him, and Mac turned. She nearly had a heart attack…Coddie Anna was coming towards them, her eyes flashing.

"So, that’s how you’ve been doing it!" she snapped.

"What are you doing here?" Anastasia asked angrily, and Michael touched her arm to try to get her to relax.

"I have more of a right to be here than you do," Coddie Anna hissed. "I knew I saw you two at the ball," she added, and Michael flushed. Sam crouched down, listening to the confrontation and preparing to leap up for an unplanned rescue. "I don’t know what you steerage trash were thinking!"

"They are not trash!" Anastasia spat, white with fury.

"They may as well be," Coddie Anna told her. "No matter how hard they try, they’ll never equal us in a million years!"

That was it. Anastasia slugged Coddie Anna across the face before tackling her to the deck. Michael pulled Mac towards the rail as the girls hit, kicked, and bit each other in a very nasty wrestling match. Sam instantly prepared to climb up the rail and leap over it to stop the fight when he heard another male voice calling out from a distance.

"What’s going on here?" Cal, who happened to have been in the smoking room, came out at that moment. The girls were too busy yelling at the top of their lungs to have heard him properly, and continued their fight. Anastasia had Coddie Anna around the middle and was preparing to tumble sideways with her when Cal grabbed the Grand Duchess by the scruff of the neck. With a single movement, he thrust her aside, and she smacked against the metal rail. Mac cried out in alarm, running to her friend’s side, just as Sam leapt over the rail. Michael stood frozen in shock, unable to do anything while his partner drew a dagger.

"Sam…don’t…" he begged, and the elder guard gave him a murderous look.

"What the hell are you doing?" Cal asked, as Sam pointed the dagger at his chest. Coddie Anna struggled to her feet, bearing a black eye and a cut on her lip. Anastasia still lay against the rail, a cut alongside of her cheek. She stared at the situation before her, a bit dizzy from when her head had hit the metal.

"Who are you, and why were you trying to hurt her?" Sam asked, his voice cold as ice. Michael gulped, wanting to melt right through the wood. He knew he’d get it from Callista if he came back and something had happened to Sam. After all, he was supposed to be a guard in training to prepare himself for the day when he’d be in their positions. Things weren’t looking too bright for him at the moment, though.

"You have no right to ask my name, sir," Cal sneered, "and if you do not put that knife away, I will send for the Master-at-Arms."

"Answer my questions," Sam answered, moving a few steps closer.

"What? Are you her bodyguard? I didn’t realize steerage swine were worth protecting!"

Sam grabbed Cal’s arm and held the knife to his neck. "Oh, no!" Mac yelped. "Don’t! Don’t! Please, don’t kill him!"

"There will be no bloodshed if you cooperate. I need to know exactly what possessed you to throw that girl against the rail."

Cal glanced at Coddie Anna, and made a small movement with his hand in a signal to fetch the Master-at-Arms. She instantly dashed off, panting very loudly as she went.

"I don’t think I should be answering your questions. If anything, I think that…girl of yours…should be answering some of her own!"

Sam knew he didn’t plan on killing this man, at least not where so many people would find out about it. If he were on the streets in Russia, he would be given permission to do so, but on the Titanic, well…it was simply out of the question. Still, the knife worked on most, but this man was one of a kind. "I’ll ask you again," Sam continued. "What is your name?"

"Caledon Hockley," Cal finally replied, sensing that the young man was indeed serious about possibly killing him. The knife was certainly real, from what he could tell…it gleamed in the moonlight. "And I was, if you’re so interested, coming out from the smoking room just there when I saw these two fighting."

"What made you think she started the fight?" Sam asked, easing up a little with the knife. He didn’t see Coddie Anna running back with the Master-at-Arms following at her heels. Michael, Mac, and Anastasia did, and they stood staring. Michael put his head in his hands, turning away so he wouldn’t have to see it.

"Drop the knife, now!" the Master-at-Arms shouted, and Sam looked ahead, instantly releasing Cal from his grasp. Coddie Anna ran to Cal, grabbing onto his arm and whispering. The knife dropped to the deck with a small clang, and Sam looked at Michael.

"You three, go," he ordered. "They have no part in this," he added as the handcuffs were fastened around his wrists.

Anastasia hid her face behind Mac, who spoke up. "No, sir, we don’t…we were just…um…coming back…when we saw…"

"Get out of here," Cal barked, and the three youngsters leapt over the rail gratefully.

"Tell her!" Sam shouted, as the Master-at-Arms dragged him away once he was fully chained.

"Oh, my God," Anastasia sobbed, wiping a bit of blood from her wound. "Oh, what have I done?"

"You acted on impulse again, is what," Mac replied. "You should have just walked away from her…"

"She can’t insult you like that! I wasn’t taking anymore, not after the way she hurt your father!"

Michael felt suddenly sick to his stomach, and instantly ran to the next rail to vomit over the side of the ship. "Oh, Michael!" Mac ran to him, stepping up to give him a hand. "Are you okay?" she asked when he stopped, and both girls caught him before he fell over backwards.

"There you are! I was getting worried!"

Michael choked at the familiar voice behind him. Callista had come. "Where is Sam? Did he not go to meet you?" she asked, chewing on her lower lip worriedly.

Michael tried to speak…he really did, but all he could do was retch again. "Have you been drinking?" she asked, frowning deeply, knowing they sometimes gave children privileges to have wine at supper. Michael shook his head, finishing another fit and turning around.

"I’m so sorry, Callista…I should have stopped him. I really…I tried…but I…" His words jumbled together as he started shaking.

Callista stared. "What? What’s happened? Michael, what happened to Sam?" she cried, alarmed.

"He’s…he’s been arrested," Michael practically whispered, and it was now Callista’s chance to turn white.

"He’s…what?"

"I got into a fight with Rose’s daughter…" Anastasia explained, her lips trembling. "And then Rose’s fiancé saw it, and threw me against the rail…and Sam…he was waiting for us below, and came up and…he threatened the fiancé with a knife…"

Callista closed her eyes. "God almighty…that son of a bitch," she whispered, suddenly realizing who she was talking in front of, and shook her head. "I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have heard me say that…"

"I’m so sorry, Callista. I should have been there to stop the fight from the start…I was there…but I…I’m not fit for being a guard, Callie!" Michael cried.

Callista looked at him seriously. "This will be discussed with the Tsar when we return, Michael, but before we do anything, I have to find out where they’ve taken him. No doubt it will come back to me if anything happens to Sam in America."

"I don’t know where they took him," Michael admitted. "The Master-at-Arms didn’t say."

"I’ll have to find out, then. Michael, escort the girls back to their cabin and stay with them until I return."

"Yes, Callista."

"I’m serious, Michael. Do not leave their cabin."

Michael nodded, still feeling a bit sick, and watched as Callista hopped over the rail, disappearing from sight. It was now 10:15 PM.

Chapter Twenty-Nine
Stories