TITANIC: A STORY TOLD
Chapter Sixty-Two
Bodies were whirled and spun, some limp as
dolls, others struggling spasmodically, as the vortex sucked them down and
tumbled them.
Jack kicked hard for the surface...holding
tightly to Rose, pulling her up.
At the surface was a roiling chaos of
screaming, thrashing people. Over a thousand people were now floating where the
ship went down. Some were stunned, gasping for breath. Others were crying,
praying, moaning, shouting...screaming.
Jack and Rose surfaced among them. They
barely had time to gasp for air before people were clawing at them. People were
driven insane by the water, four degrees below freezing, a cold so intense it
was indistinguishable from death by fire.
A man pushed Rose under, trying to climb on
top of her...senselessly trying to get out of the water, to climb onto
anything. Jack punched him repeatedly, pulling her free.
"Swim, Rose! Swim!"
She tried, but her strokes were not as
effective as his were because of her lifebelt. They broke out of the clot of
people. He had to find some kind of flotation, anything to get her out of the
freezing water.
"Keep swimming. Keep moving. Come on,
you can do it."
All about them there was a tremendous
wailing, screaming and moaning...a chorus of tormented souls. And beyond
that...nothing but black water stretching to the horizon. The sense of
isolation and hopelessness was overwhelming.
*****
Jack stroked rhythmically, the effort keeping
him from freezing.
"Look for something floating. Some
debris...wood...anything."
"It’s so cold."
"I know. I know. Help me, here. Look
around."
His words kept her focused, taking her mind
off the wailing around them. Rose scanned the water, panting, barely able to
draw a breath. She turned and...screamed.
A devil was right in front of her face. It
was the black French bulldog, swimming right at her like a sea monster in the
darkness, its coal eyes bugging. It motored past her, like it was heading for
Newfoundland.
Beyond it Rose saw something in the water.
"What’s that?"
Jack saw what she was pointing to, and they
made for it together. It was a piece of wooden debris, intricately carved. He
pushed her up and she slithered onto it belly down.
But when Jack tried to get up onto the thing,
it tilted and submerged, almost dumping Rose off. It was clearly only big
enough to support her. He clung to it, close to her, keeping his upper body out
of the water as best he could.
Their breath floated around them in a cloud
as they panted from the exertion. A man swam toward them, homing in on the
piece of debris. Jack warned him back.
"It’s just enough for this lady...you’ll
push it under."
"Let me try at least, or I’ll die
soon."
"You’ll die quicker if you come any closer."
"Yes, I see. Good luck to you
then." He swam off. "God bless."
*****
The boat was overloaded and half-flooded. Men
clung to the sides in the water. Others, swimming, were drawn to it as their
only hope. Cal, standing in the boat, slapped his oar in the water as a
warning.
"Stay back! Keep off!"
Fabrizio, exhausted and near the limit, made
it almost to the boat. Cal clubbed him with the oar, cutting open his scalp.
"You don’t...understand...I have...to
get...to America."
Cal pointed with the oar. "It’s that
way!"
Fabrizio floated, panting, each breath agony.
Cal could see the spirit leave him.
Cal seemed to move in slow motion, yelling
and wielding the oar. A demon in a tuxedo. The image faded to black.