THE SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Six

Coddie Anna sat on the couch in the main sitting room of her family’s cabin, watching her mother unload a lot of paintings from boxes that had just been brought in. "Would you like all of them up, ma‘am?" Trudy asked Rose, who was holding up a painting of a very colorful landscape. Ruth and Cal were wandering around the cabin, making sure things were put in the right place, and that everything looked neat and tidy.

"God," Cal snorted. "Not those finger paintings again."

Coddie Anna looked over her shoulder and watched as he took a sip of champagne from a glass he was holding. She turned back to her mother, who was setting a portrait next to her. "Do you need help, Mommy?" she wanted to know. Rose smiled softly, and kissed her on top of the head, before turning to Cal with a frown.

"They certainly were a waste of money."

Rose stiffened as she pulled yet another out of the box. "The difference between Cal’s taste in art and mine is that I have some," she told Trudy, who hid a smile. "They’re fascinating. Like being inside a dream or something." She shook her head. "There’s truth, but no logic. Coddie, honey, could you set this by the fireplace?"

Coddie Anna took the painting, which was luckily not very heavy, and did as she was told.

"What’s the artist’s name?" asked Trudy with curiosity.

Coddie Anna leaned the painting against the side of the fireplace, and stood gazing thoughtfully at it.

"Something Picasso." Rose shrugged, and this made Cal chuckle, or as Coddie Anna felt, cackle.

"Something Picasso?" he asked. "He won’t amount to a thing. He won’t--trust me." He motioned with his glass towards his fiancée, who led Coddie Anna into the bedroom so they could dress for luncheon, as it was nearing that time of the afternoon. "At least they were cheap," Cal added quietly.

Rose shut the door to the bedroom she was to share with Coddie Anna, and stood facing the mirror, gazing at her pale complexion. Coddie Anna stepped up beside her mother and took her hand comfortingly. "I’ll take care of you, Mama," she whispered. "I don’t want you to be sad." Rose immediately pulled her into a hug.

"I love you, Coddie. Do you know that?" She stroked the child’s curly auburn hair. "Without you, I’m not sure what I would do."

Coddie Anna grinned. "Know what?"

"What?" Rose knelt down, her hazel eyes twinkling.

"Cal looks like a penguin in that tuxedo. And he walks like one. And Mr. Lovejoy looks kind of like a monkey."

Rose laughed. "Hmm…you’re right." She winked at her daughter, before pulling out gowns for both of them. "Are you hungry, sweetheart?"

Coddie Anna nodded. "Starving. I didn’t eat much at breakfast." She turned around so her mother could help her out of her traveling dress, and secretly wished she could also take off the corset, which was causing her ribs to hurt. "Not that I could anyway. Mommy, why do we have to wear these stupid corsets?" she asked, as she stepped into her new gown—a sky blue one with a peach-colored sash.

"It is the unfortunate rule of upper class society, my love." Rose sighed. "If I could, I would not make you wear one, but trust me, everyone would notice if you didn’t."

Coddie Anna raised her eyebrows. "And you would be embarrassed?"

Rose frowned. "Oh, honey, that’s not what I meant at all--"

Coddie Anna giggled. "I know you did not." Rose zipped up her daughter’s gown and eventually tied the sash into a big bow in the back.

"There you are. Would you like me to redo your hair before we go down? It’s a bit unruly from traveling."

Smirking, Coddie Anna nodded, and waited patiently for her mother to fetch the hairbrush and her collection of hair ribbons. Coddie Anna looked almost like a miniature version of her mother, with her long, thick, curly auburn hair and pale skin. However, her sky blue eyes and slightly wider and thinner nose came from her father’s side of the family. Coddie Anna was very protective of her mother, and hardly ever left her side unless absolutely necessary. She also had a bit of a temper, which sometimes got in the way of their relationship, though not very often.

Rose came back after she got what she needed, and pulled out a chair for Coddie Anna to sit on. While she was brushing her daughter’s hair, the door to the bedroom opened and Ruth entered, still in the dark green gown that she had put on earlier that morning. "Is everything all right?" she asked, watching the process under her sharp, green eyes.

"Of course I’m all right." Rose sighed after fastening Coddie Anna’s hair in a white ribbon. Coddie stood up and hurried over to her grandmother, who hugged and kissed her gently.

"Are you ready for luncheon, love?" Ruth asked the younger girl.

"Oh, yes," Coddie Anna replied. "I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!"

Rose laughed. "Oh, my--we wouldn’t want that!" She looked up at Ruth, who was laughing as well. "Mother, would you take Coddie outside for a moment or two so I can get changed also? I shouldn’t be more than five minutes."

"Of course, dear." Ruth took Coddie Anna by the hand and led her into the sitting room, where Cal stood in the corner talking with Lovejoy in a hushed voice. He was holding a blue velvet box, and Coddie Anna burned with curiosity, wondering what could be inside. Knowing him, possibly human bones, she thought with a shudder, as she sat down on the soft but firm couch. The cabin was very nice, and Coddie Anna felt her nerves settling down a bit once she was able to take everything in a bit more slowly. Cal noticed her and smiled, handing the box to Lovejoy.

"Put that in the safe, will you?" he asked, and the other man nodded, disappearing into one of the other bedrooms. "Don’t you look beautiful?" he complimented, kneeling down so he was facing her, a big smile on his face.

She blushed slightly, smiling back, but not quite sure what to say, so she just quietly replied, "Thank you."

"Would you like to ride on my shoulders for a bit?" Cal wanted to know. He was trying hard, she could tell, to make her feel comfortable around him, so she nodded, and he lifted her carefully into the air and set her on his shoulders, holding her stocking-clad legs tightly. Rose came out of her bedroom dressed in a sea green dress with white lace trim, a red sash around the middle, and her mouth fell open at the sight before her.

"Caledon Hockley, just what do you think you’re doing?" she asked in horror.

"It’s okay, Mommy. He’s just giving me a shoulder ride like Daddy used to do."

Rose put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, but finally gave in and nodded in approval. "Just be careful with her, Cal. She’s only ten years old."

Cal rolled his eyes slightly. "Sweetpea, I wouldn’t do anything to harm this little jewel."

Ruth met them after a few moments, and was aghast that Cal would even think of handling a little girl like that, but Rose reassured her that Cal had things under control, or so she hoped, and they made their way down to the first class dining saloon.

*****

Callista, Sam, and Michael followed Jack, Fabrizio, and the girls through the steerage corridors and up to the deck, trying their best to either keep out of sight, or to not make themselves look too suspicious. The hallways were narrow and crowded with passengers from many different cultures. Some were flipping through phrasebooks, trying to figure out what the signs on the walls meant, and others were wandering around aimlessly and chatting in multiple languages.

"It’s like a damned circus," Sam grumbled, as he was nearly knocked down by a few young boys who ran by.

Callista chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Not quite like Tsarskoe Selo, is it?" she whispered into his ear. Tsarskoe Selo was the home of Anastasia and her family, and was a very well-organized place. Whenever a member of the imperial family entered the village, everyone who was about would stop and face forward, saluting him or her. Sam was tempted to release a shrill whistle and order everyone to "About face! Forward, march!" But he knew that wasn’t an option.

"You’ve got that right," he replied.

They eventually managed to reach the upper deck and were grateful to feel the fresh but chilly early spring air again. The breeze that blew smelled strongly of salt and fish, and seagulls’ cries could be heard in the distance. Sam touched Callista’s and Michael’s arms gently and pointed ahead, where he saw Anastasia and Mac chasing each other around the deck and giggling. "Come on," Callista whispered. "Let’s go and sit on one of those benches by the rail."

Sam nodded in agreement, and the three of them headed over to sit down. Well, Callista and Sam sat down, but Michael stood up on the rail a bit, gazing down at the crystal blue water, watching as the ship made waves that lapped up along the side. After a few moments, he shouted, "Look!"

Sam and Callista jumped and shushed him, before standing and going on either side of Michael. "What is it?" Callista asked in horror.

"Dolphins!" Michael pointed downwards, and both of the other young adults looked in the direction he was pointing in.

Sure enough, several dolphins were following alongside the ship, leaping up. "Wow," Callista breathed. They were beautiful--she had never seen dolphins this close up before.

Sam glanced over his shoulder and saw that neither Anastasia nor Mac had even noticed them. They were still playing a game of tag, and he shook his head, smiling to himself, having the feeling that this might turn out to be one of the smoothest cases he’d ever had to work on.

*****

Mac and Anastasia chased each other around the benches on the deck, while Jack sat talking with Fabrizio. "So you grew up in America, eh?" Fabrizio asked curiously. "Why’d you move to Russia? Normally people want to do the opposite."

"Well, when I was about 18, I traveled through Europe, and met my wife in Paris. She was a dancer for the Russian Imperial ballet, and I'd sort of...rescued her, I guess would be the best phrase to use here. Her instructor hired me to work behind the scenes, and the two of us fell in love as we got to know each other more and more. After she died, Mac and I went to Russia because it was her wish for her parents to see our child when we had one...we had to stay for a good while so I could earn enough money for our passage back to America."

Fabrizio noticed this and immediately felt guilty. "I did not mean to upset you—forgive me," he apologized quietly.

Jack opened his eyes again and smiled slightly. "It’s all right. You wouldn’t have known about that, but even though she died six years ago, it still feels like it happened yesterday."

Fabrizio nodded in understanding. "What was her name, Jack?"

"Alyiah." Jack watched in shock suddenly as Mac and Anastasia passed him and wrestled each other to the ground, tickling one another. He stood and cleared his throat again, a bit more loudly this time, and both girls immediately ceased their play and looked up slowly.

"Sorry, Papa," Mac apologized, standing and helping Anastasia to her feet.

"Try to keep your rough-housing to a minimum, girls. You have to remember that you’re young ladies. All right?" He lowered his gaze and they nodded, giggling to each other, and then Mac hurried over to her father and wrapped her arms around his waist. Jack lifted her into his arms and kissed her cheek softly.

"Hullo there."

Jack whirled around, still holding Mac, and realized he was staring at the form of a young Irishman, no older than twenty. "Hello." Jack chuckled.

"Beautiful children," the stranger complimented in his thick accent. Anastasia was stunned because she had never heard a voice like that before.

"Where are you from?" she asked softly.

"Ireland." He stuck out his hand for a shake. "Tommy Ryan."

She looked at his hand with uncertainty for a moment but finally accepted it and gave it a firm shake. "I’m Anya," Anastasia told him, feeling strange using that name. Jack eventually let Mac back down to the ground and shook hands with Tommy as well.

"Jack Dawson."

"Nice to meet ya."

"Fabrizio." Fabrizio stood and shook hands, too, and Mac introduced herself last.

"So, Americans, are ya? Judgin’ by your accent I’m guessin’ you all are from th’ states?"

"You could technically say that," Jack replied, sitting back down on the bench, as he was feeling strangely exhausted again. Anastasia and Mac immediately crawled onto his lap, much to Tommy and Fabrizio’s amusement. "My goodness, you two are getting heavy," Jack teased, as he tried to balance them each on one leg. "Actually, we’re coming from Russia," he added to Tommy, who was leaning against the wall.

"Really." Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Normally people try to escape and come to the states. Why’d you escape the states to go there?"

Jack looked down at the wood and Fabrizio made a motion with his hands as if to tell Tommy not a good question, and Tommy got the idea.

"Ah."

"I’m sorry," Jack apologized. "It’s a rather personal reason and I’d prefer not to discuss it." He looked at Mac, who was frowning.

"No worries," Tommy added smiling.

"I could listen to you talk all day." Anastasia giggled. "You have such a lovely accent!"

Mac sniggered and Tommy cocked his head to one side. "Some people might say diff’rntly back home, lil lassie," he teased, and she covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes sparkling. "So, what d’you do for a livin’, Jack Dawson?" he asked.

Jack smiled. "I’m an artist, actually."

"Are you really? D’you have any o’ your drawings here with ya?"

Jack nodded. "Mac, honey, could you do me a favor?"

"Uh-huh." Mac stood before her father, waiting for his order.

"Can you go down and get my sketchpad and charcoal for me, sweetheart? It’s the first thing in my suitcase."

Mac nodded. "Okay, Papa." She gave him a quick kiss before hurrying off. For once, Anastasia remained, still sitting on Jack’s knee and her chin in her palm. Jack turned towards the upper levels of the ship and his eyes raised in surprise. What caught his eye was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen besides Alyiah, who was leaning over the rail of first class, gazing out at the ocean. She was tall and thin, with curly auburn hair pulled back into a clip behind her head, but she almost looked sad from the angle she was standing. Beside the woman was a little girl who couldn’t be older than ten, and Jack cocked his head to one side.

Fabrizio noticed this and waved his hand in front of Jack’s eyes, chuckling. Eventually, Mac came hurrying up the steps with her father’s sketchpad and charcoal, and saw the expression on his face. "Papa?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

"Look," Anastasia whispered, pointing. Mac saw the woman and then looked at her father in amazement, and then felt her heart fill with excitement.

"Oh!"

Anastasia giggled. "He’s smitten," she teased.

Mac grinned and whispered, "Watch this." She cleared her throat. "Dad, I accidentally dropped your sketchpad into the ocean."

"You what?" Jack whirled around, staring. "Oh, jeez, honey. Don’t do that!"

"I was only kidding, Papa. Who were you staring at?"

"Oh…um—" Jack blushed a deep shade of crimson. "Nothing, sweetheart. Thank you," he added, accepting his sketchbook and pencil pouch.

"Ah, forget it, boyo," Tommy joked. "It is like havin’ angels fly out o’ your arse as getting’ next ta the likes o’ her."

Mac’s lips split into a rather evil smile. "Thank you, Tommy," she announced. "I knew it. You do have a crush on that lady up there."

Jack ruffled her hair. "Well, perhaps I do then."

Anastasia was giggling uncontrollably as Mac hugged her father. "I’ve never seen you so happy before, Papa. I hope you can meet her."

Jack looked at Tommy, who was lighting a cigarette and shaking his head.

Suddenly the sound of barking could be heard, and all heads turned towards the noise. Jack immediately pulled out his handkerchief and sneezed, startling the others. "Not catchin’ a chill, are ya, Jack?" asked Tommy with concern.

"He’s allergic to dogs." Mac sighed.

Jack sneezed again, and Anastasia hurried over to Tommy, hiding behind him slightly. Mac frowned and was grateful when the dogs disappeared around a corner, and her father relaxed a little. "Excuse me," he choked, after sneezing a third time.

"Bless you," everyone told him in unison.

"Thanks."

"That’s typical," Tommy grumbled, after taking another puff on his cigarette. "First class dogs come down here to take a shit."

Anastasia’s mouth popped open, but she didn’t say anything.

"That lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things, unfortunately," Jack replied, once he managed to compose himself.

"Like we could forget?" Tommy chortled.

"Papa, I’m hungry," Mac announced. "It’s nearly one o’clock and we haven’t eaten since breakfast."

"Me, too," added Anastasia.

"Wow. It is getting late, isn’t it?" Jack asked. "Would you gentlemen care to join us in the saloon for lunch?" he asked Tommy and Fabrizio.

"Sure," Tommy agreed, tossing his cigarette over the rail. "Let’s go, then." He led the way, and the others followed, going back down into steerage.

Chapter Seven
Stories