A Titanic Tale

    A purser raised his finger and indicated she was next in line. She bid goodbye to the Astors and looked around for Maggie as she walked out onto the deck. Her savior, Mr. Davenport, never showed up again. Taking care of little wifey, no doubt. A lot of good he is. I didn’t even get a damn drink out of him.

    She waited patiently as the purser helped people into the lifeboat. A woman yelled in a language she didn’t recognize and disturbed the beautiful chamber music that worked to soothe her nerves. How did a third class passenger get up here? She glanced at the shriveled, old lady holding two small bundles.

    “What’s she saying?” the purser asked one of the sailors standing nearby.

    “Bloody hell if I know,” he replied. “They all speak in tongues if you be askin’ me.”

    Mrs. Bainesworth pulled the collar of her coat up around her neck. “Could one of you please tell her to shut up? It’s hard enough to be out on this deck, in the middle of the night, without riff raff babbling on and on.”

    “I think she wants on the boat with the babes,” the purser said.

    “Not on your life,” the sailor answered. “We’ve got our orders and I’m not losing this job.”

    “I’ve got news, old man. You’re going to be losing more than a job tonight.”

    “Both of you stop,” she said. “The woman is insane. Get rid of her.”

    “She’s too old to be their mother. She must be their nanny,” the purser said.

    Mrs. Bainesworth glanced over. “Are you daft? Look at the rags those babies are wearing. They’re obviously the offspring of third class passengers. I think they should be taken back below and drowned.”

    The two men looked at each other until one spoke.

    “You know what? You’re right. This woman doesn’t belong on a lifeboat.”

    “Thank, God, you’ve come to your senses. Now send them below.”

    Her maid, Maggie, came running up. “I looked all over for you, ma’am. I’m glad to see you made it up to a boat.”

    “Come, Maggie. I’ll need you with me.” She took Maggie’s hand and headed toward the sailor helping people in. Before she had a chance to put her leg over, the sailor took one of the babies from the old woman and handed it to her. He took the other and handed it to Maggie.

    “What…what in the hell are you doing?” Mrs. Bainesworth cried.

    He stepped back.

    The old woman grabbed Mrs. Bainesworth’s wrist and squeezed, her dirty fingernails drawing blood. In her foreign language, the woman seemed to be cursing her. After a few more words, the woman stepped closer to Mrs. Bainesworth. She leaned forward, pushing her leathery, wrinkled face even nearer. The stink of fried onions was on her breath. Her eyes were black circles floating in a sea of red lines against a sick, yellow background. The woman smiled. Slowly, she bared her rotting teeth, loosened her grip on Mrs. Bainesworth’s wrist and spat next to the shocked woman’s shoes. The purser yanked the woman by the arm, pulling her into the crowd and back to certain death.

    Being helped into the lifeboat, Mrs. Bainesworth yelled at the man assisting her when he grabbed her fur coat. “Careful, you oaf. This coat cost more than you’ll make in a lifetime.” She and Maggie found a spot and sat.

    “Don’t worry,” the purser said, “the mother will claim the babies later. Once we come back to the ship, we’ll reunite them with her.”

    “I don’t know the first thing about babies,” Mrs. Bainesworth said.

    “Think of them as little heaters, ma’am, they’ll help keep you both warm.”

    She glanced at Maggie, then at the babies. “I’ll do what I can, but the owner of this ship will be hearing from me. This is absolutely ridiculous.” With the ruckus around growing ever louder, she was sure no one heard her. She spoke only to herself and to the baby she now held tightly against her chest. “I’ll have to get to sleep once we’re back on the ship, Maggie. You know what I’m like in the morning without a proper night’s rest.”

    Another first class woman sat next to them. “Oh, my poor dears. Look at you. Two babes in arms.” She yelled to the other people. “Please, extra blankets for these women and their tiny waifs.” A large blanket was passed and wrapped around them and the babies. Enjoying the sympathy, and the extra care, Mrs. Bainesworth played the martyr and imagined the extra attention might not be a bad thing after all.

    The Titanic sank one hundred years ago, but the curse it carried lives on.

    Beautiful Cornelia Bainesworth cared only about herself and her own life the night the Titanic went down. A curse brought on by a woman who witnessed her selfish behavior that evening destroys her, but it doesn’t stop there.

    One hundred years later, the curse rears its ugly head in the life of small-town teenager Callie. As if the tragedy of her boyfriend’s death wasn’t enough, strange occurrences bring her to the brink of insanity. Callie’s search for answers is unsuccessful until a nerdy schoolmate takes up her cause and together they experience frightening apparitions, unexplained phenomena and chilling truths. These truths turn Callie’s life upside down and reveal a shocking ending to a story that began on the deck of a ship doomed the moment it saw light.