
Written by Lily D.
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
Molly Brown was my idol. She had
found a place in high society, and was still who she was before she had money.
She was nouveau riche, but no one in the lower class cared. She was still kind,
caring, and vulgar--it was soothing when one finds oneself among the first
class. And then, I heard she'd be on the Titanic. The very ship that I had
never wanted to be on because it would be a rat hole for us. We'd have little
cabins and tiny little bunks, below even sea level. And it gave me an eerie
feeling.
My name was Alys. Alys Calene
Nate. Our last name was Nate. My mother was Lily Nate, and my father, Darek
Nate.
We lived in America. But we had
had to come back to Ireland to see my Grandda, Seamus, one more time before he
died. My mam said he had cancer. Da said he'd pull out of it. But the truth was
none of us believed that for a minute.
His dying moments were the worst
I had ever seen him. I remembered him as caring, gentle, and strong, always out
and about, always a protector for my sisters, Lib, Elizabeth, and I when we
visited. He sent us special chocolates for Christmas and porcelain dolls we
knew had to have cost him a fortune with the little money our family had always
had. Even as Lib and I grew out of playing with the dolls, we cherished them. They
were our nicest belongings. The handmade blankets mam handed out every time the
winter started were not as nice, and our newest and best dresses, with
intricate patterns that mam had sewn herself, were never as good as our dolls.
My favorite was Deirbhile, named
after my mamó, who had departed from us the year before.
She looked just like mamó had in
a portrait drawn of her when she was a teenager. Deirbhile meant a lot to
Grandda, too. He was touched when I named her after mamó.
Grandda was weak when I last saw
him, in the warm cozy bed that was in his house in Kilkenny, Ireland. The stone
walls and thatched roof were soon going to be gone, and I could feel death
looming in the air.
His last words were, "I'm
coming, Deirbhile." And as I heard his weak voice when he said it, growing
loving once again, like he had never gotten sick, I looked at him in wonder,
waiting for him to be better. A feeble hope, one that I shouldn't have invested
in, especially at my short age of thirteen.
I stared at him for ten minutes,
waiting for his eyes to open once again, to see the blue pools of warmth I had
grown used to seeing.
But then, as time went on, more
and more tears welled up in my eyes. Finally, I put my head to his chest and
tried to listen to the rhythm of his breathing and heart. But there was none.
His harmony was gone. His blue
eyes I would never see again...and now the only thing I had left of him was
Deirbhile and his little thatched house, which I knew we'd be leaving. The
little house in Kilkenny that I had spent my first few years in.
And that was the thing that
pushed me over the edge and my tears out of my eyes. I felt warm, salty liquid
run down my rosy cheeks, and then I let out a wail of despair. My mam and da
were immediately in his warm little room. My tears kept on running. Tears that
felt cold, but I knew should have been warm.
"Mam...please. Please, can
we go on the Titanic back to America? We can board in Southampton! And Molly
Brown will also be on the ship! Please? Please? Please?" I'm not sure if
it was my pleading voice that made mam and da buy tickets for the RMS Titanic,
or the fact that Grandda would've bought us tickets, or that they knew how much
pain I was in, watching Grandda die. My one and only Grandda.
"Fine, Alys. But you'll have
no birthday party. You'll just have to play with Deirbhile on it. Lib won't
have a birthday party, either."
Lib and I both grinned. We were
going to have a chance to meet Molly Brown! The nouveau riche woman that all of
America was buzzing about!
As we boarded the RMS Titanic,
Lib and I stared in awe at the ship. We pulled out Deirbhile and Ailis, Lib's
favorite doll, named after me.
We held them close to us, and we
walked through the door where a man was standing after da gave him our papers
and tickets.
Mam walked us to our cabin,
which, as I imagined, was tiny. Lib and I had to share a bunk beneath mam, and
the cabin with a girl named Cayla and her mother.
Cayla had red hair, green eyes,
and freckles, and looked almost exactly like one of my older dolls, Bebhinn. A
porcelain doll.
Lib, Cayla, and I explored the
lower class corridors and slowly made our way up. With each stair we took, I
grew more nervous. Cayla and Lib also had looks of apprehension, because we
knew the third class trash that we were weren't allowed above E-Deck. But we
made it, and then, we saw the sights.
There were people milling around,
and I went to the bow, where I looked down at the people of Southampton. There
was my aunt, Maeve, and her husband, who was oddly named Richard. And then I saw
her.
Molly Brown. My favorite person
in the whole world. She was wearing a fur coat and waving a gloved hand to the
people. Her brown hair was neat and uncovered. Her hat was gone. She was
smiling. Her mouth was saying words my eyes couldn't read and my ears couldn't
hear, but I kept smiling and pointed her out to Lib.
I stayed after all the people had
departed and watched as Molly Brown walked away. And then I got up the nerve to
talk to her.
"Hello, Mrs. Brown!" I
said, waving to her cheerily.
"Hello. Who are you?"
"I'm Alys Nate. And I've
always wanted to meet you."
"Why’s that, hon?" she
asked.
"Well, you're not afraid to
be yourself among the first class members, even though you're what they call
nouveau riche." I smiled. She laughed.
"Thank you, Alys. I'll be
seeing you." She smiled at me, then left. I ran all the way back to our
cabin until I caught up with Lib and Cayla.
"Guess who I just met!"
I said excitedly.
"Who?" Cayla asked. A
split second later, Lib asked the same question.
"Molly Brown!" I said.
They looked shell-shocked.
Over the next few days, we all
ran around E-Deck and sat on the rails next to the bow, talking about the boys
that walked by and the men who looked ridiculous in tuxedos, like Mr. Ismay.
And then, on the fourth night, we
went to a party. Mam wouldn't let us have any of the beer, even though we were
just one year off of being of age.
Around midnight, a shudder went
through the ship. A shudder so large I felt it in my cabin, trying to get to
sleep. I sprang up from the bed.
"What was that?" I
asked Lib. But she was still asleep. I turned to Cayla, but she was also
sleeping.
"Mam?" I sat in bed for
a while longer, and then I noticed water beginning to seep under the door. I
jumped out of my tired state, instantly awake.
I got out of my bed and went to
investigate. The water was icy cold. I ran to wake up mam, Lib, Cayla, and Mrs.
Bensen, but none of them woke up. I grabbed Deirbhile, determined to see what
was wrong.
I went all the way up to D-Deck,
where the gates were shut. What the hell? I thought to myself.
"What is going on?" I
asked one of the people near me. It was a man in suspenders and brown trousers.
"The ship is floodin',"
he said. His voice was deep and gruff, angry. He was holding a small child in
his arms. My eyes widened and I ran away, looking for another exit.
All of the gates were locked.
"Let us out!" I screamed, not loud enough above the others. "Let
us out, damn you!" I wasn't one to curse, but this was an emergency. There
were lives at risk, mine included. "Let us out!" I bellowed.
And then someone got the gates
open. We all screamed happily and fled to the highest deck. By then, there was
water up to my neck. The end of the ship was sinking, so I ran to the other
side. All of the lifeboats were gone.
The ship began to sink lower, and
I grabbed onto the railing that Cayla and Lib had sat on with me. I screamed.
Few people paid attention. In my fight for survival, while trying to save only
me, I'd let Lib and mam die. I let Cayla die. I let Mrs. Bensen die. And maybe
even da.
The Titanic started to go up into
the air, and then stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief. And then we fell again.
I held onto the railing, feeling my stomach leave and my heart jump rapidly.
The ship snapped in half. As I saw people on the other side of the railing, the
ship started to become vertical. I copied them.
I was practically in the stars,
when the Titanic started to go under.
I stop replaying memories. That
feeling I had felt at the beginning of the trip, the eeriness I had felt about
the RMS Titanic before I had learned Molly Brown was on it, dawned on me.
I looked at the water, and then I
thought of Deirbhile. I had thought to save her, but not my own family and
friends.
"Damn you, Deirbhile!"
I said, but held onto her. As the Titanic sank lower, I realized how cold the
water actually was. I swam to a piece of driftwood.
I lay on there, waiting for
someone to come. Something made me resent my favorite doll. I hurled her into
the icy blue cold, and then, as my body moved heavily, all my weight trying to
throw Deirbhile, I fell off the driftwood.
I had never grabbed a flotation
device. I felt myself sinking. All of my energy, the last of it, I had just
used on throwing Deirbhile.
I closed my eyes, afraid the
salty water would sting. What had happened? Who was I? What was this blackness?
What was the pressure in my chest? And then I thought a random thought. I'm
coming, Deirbhile.
The End.