It was customary for the Captain of the ship to greet the first class passengers as they boarded his vessel. During this quick introduction the officers and staff would also keep their eyes open and mouths shut as they studied the new faces of the herds they would be taking to Boston, Massachusetts.
“There’s a Scottish lassie to take your breath away.” A man in a tightly buttoned white coat with brass buttons whispered.
Nodding his head in the direction of a peach-cheeked woman in a brown and blue plaid skirt who daintily lifted her hem just to the ankle to step onto the ship's deck.
The Captain cleared his throat and extended his hand.
“Welcome aboard, miss.” His gray hair fluttered like the flags atop the crow’s nest. “I’m Captain Ramsey. My First Officer Dean.” He tipped his head to the left.
The woman smiled with her eyes as she grasped the very tips of the Captain’s fingers in her delicately gloved hand.
“Capt’n.” Her voice was soft but not weak. “Officer Dean. I’m Annis Breck. My sister is...Oh, where’d she disappear to now?” Stretching and looking behind her Annis scanned the crowd finally spotting her lost sibling. “Sorcha!” She called to a downturned bonnet.
Quite stealthily the First Officer nudged the Captain as the woman approached.
“You have a sister? How wonderful. I’d like to invite you both to join me at my table for dinner. Won’t that be lovely?”
“M’sister, Sorcha Breck.” Annis tilted her head to the right and let out a sigh.
“Welcome aboard, Sorcha. I’m Cap...” The words stopped in his throat as the wide brimmed hat tilted upward.
Sorcha Breck looked up at the Captain and first mate. She had the same fair, soft, plump skin as her sister but the resemblance stopped there. A pug nose sat below two closely set almond shaped eyes. Her smile, if it could be called that, was more like an expression of discomfort, perhaps a bout of gas or a pinch from her corset.
Annis slipped her arm underneath Sorcha’s and pulled her close.
The Captain, now nudging the first mate cleared his throat.
“Welcome aboard the Oceanic.” He grinned pinching his thick, peppered eyebrows together. He didn’t have to say a word. The Breck sisters knew what the look meant as if the man had spoken the words outright.
How can these two be sisters?
It wasn’t so bad for Annis. She was referred to as the pretty one. But Sorcha had grown accustomed to the term the other one.
“Dinner at yer table.” Annis nodded her head and smiled. “We’ll be lookin’ forward to it, Cap’n Ramsey.”
Again he cleared his throat and nodded his head.
Dozens of people followed in the Breck sisters steps along a thick wooden plank aboard the huge ship. There were ladies wearing fine silk tapestries and hats with feathers. Most of them had come to Scotland for a visit and were headed back to America. Their gentlemen chaperones dressed just as well and in some cases better in coat tails and the gold chains of their watches dangling from their vest pockets.
Running back and forth as if the ship were sinking were an innumerable number of valets and maids escorting some of the guests to their cabins, helping others with their bags and the majority carrying silver platters with glasses full of spirits and ashtrays for their long cigars.
“Can ya believe this, Sorcha?” Annis whispered as they got out of the way of their fellow travelers trying to board. “I’m besides m’self. The Cap’n askin’ us to join ‘im for supper. How excitin’?”
“Annis, darlin’, you know he wasn’t askin’ me to sup. If the man’s eyes left prints they’d be all over ya by now.” Sorcha’s low voice was like a whisper. “He don’t know how lucky he is, Denholm is at the port in Massachusetts. He’d have laid him flat, Cap’n of the Oceanic or no.”
Annis blushed and giggled.
“That fiancé of yours would get us tossed into the ocean before even settin’ sail.” Sorcha continued, enjoying her sister’s laughter. “And I don’t know what ya find funny about it. You’re marryin’ the brute as soon as we land in America. I’ll bet he’ll be so desperate for you he’ll have a priest waitin’ to bless yer union as soon as we step off this dingy.”
Nearly bursting as she tried to control her laughter Annis pulled her sister tighter and buried her head in her thick neck.
“Sorcha, if you’d ever let any man see what you show me you’d have so many suitors you’d not be able to spit without hittin’ one.”
“Good thing I gave up spittin’.” Sorcha teased and looked up at her big sister. The two Breck girls had always been close. Born just ten months apart they were more like twins, fraternal twins of course, than individual siblings.
Even after first being born, when babies are all red and spotted bearing nothing but pink gums as they cried their salutation to the world Annis was a vision. She was perfectly round and let out a pitiful whimper as if to say she had a chill before her mama took her in her arms and she snuggled to sleep.
Sorcha was a wrinkled, splotchy mess with black curly hair that screamed her arrival and decided not to stop. Her mother held her close, swaddled her, gave her her right breast then tried the left. Finally, her father took her in his arms and began to talk to her. As if they were the words of an angel Sorcha calmed down and fell asleep.
“She looks just like me.” her father said through tears of joy. “The poor thing.”
Although Sorcha was never treated any worse than Annis, and Annis not treated any better than Sorcha by their parents, society had a different lesson in mind. When their parents had passed just a few short years earlier Annis and Sorcha promised to take care of one another.
So when Denholm, Annis’ fiancé, had finally sent for her to join him in the United States she made it clear she would not come without Sorcha. Denholm reluctantly agreed and sent enough fare for the ladies to travel together.
The man had to have been working all day and night to come up with the money, not daring to risk another Scottish bully from stealing her heart away from him. Sorcha often would joke as they waited for notice of when the ship would be leaving that if they didn’t shove off soon Denholm was going to declare a war on his homeland just to get some ships within swimming distance.
He’d been gone for two years. He always asked about Sorcha in his letters but Sorcha knew it wasn’t to really know how she was getting on but rather to see if she had found a suitor and he could have Annis come home to him alone. But, with each letter Annis would inform her fiancé that Sorcha was doing fine and looking forward to an adventure on the sea.
“Your cabin is just this way, my ladies.” A tiny maid in a black uniform with a doily collar extended her arm down a short flight of stairs. As the view of the sky and deck disappeared both women could suddenly feel the shift and roll of the giant vessel even as it rested at the dock. “Can I get you a valet to help with your bags?”
“No. That won’t be necessary. Thank you.” Annis clutched her carpetbag that was stuffed beyond capacity.
“You’re lookin’ a little pale, sister.” Sorcha’s thick brown eyebrows furrowed. “She’s not going to swipe yer photo of Denholm. I know you have at least one in that bag.”
Annis smiled and tried to laugh but it came out as a sigh instead of a chuckle.
“Let me.” Sorcha took her sister’s bag in her empty hand and waddled awkwardly in the direction of their cabin. With each twist and turn down the hallway the women hoped they’d find their quarters. Down another flight of steps and around another bend they finally reached the door marked with their number.
“Oh, dear.” Annis was sweating. So was Sorcha but it was from carrying all the bags. “I think I need to lie down.”
“Let’s get yer feet up.” Sorcha soothed. Opening the door she gasped. “Oh, sister, it’s beautiful. You’re going to feel wonderful in no time. The walls look like they’re made of chocolate and the beds’r stacked.”
Bunk beds were in the far wall about five feet from the door. In the middle was a nightstand that doubled as a desk. Across from the beds was a couch built right into the wall covered in a maroon and gold tapestry.
“Let me put your things away for you, Ann. You just lie down.”
“I’m sure this will pass in no time.” Annis sat down on the bed. “It’s probably just all the excitement.”
“I’m sure that’s it.” Sorcha soothed. Her own queasiness was quickly subsiding. Looking around the cabin she spied a porthole window. “Let’s get some of that salty air in here. That’ll make you right.”
After a short rest the magnificent liner began its slow departure from the harbor.
“Do you want to go wave g’bye to England, Liverpool and our Scotland?” Sorcha looked at her sister but the green hue in the poor girl’s face answered that question.
“I don’t think I better. But you go on. Tell me all about it.”
Pulling her wide brimmed bonnet down almost over her eyes Sorcha made her way carefully back down the hallway maze and up to the deck. The ship’s whistle was so loud it caused a reverberation Sorcha could feel in her chest. Without making eye contact with any of the other passengers she managed to find a small space of rail unoccupied. Squeezing her plumb figure up against the metal rail she looked out at all the faces waving. Some were crying. Others were smiling.
Sorcha didn’t do either but stared in amazement at the watery landscape that was stretched out before them. Inhaling deeply she felt her lungs fill with the fresh salty air.
“Annis, you would love this.” She muttered. Taking in every detail she could she made her notes in her head so she could describe everything to Annis when she went back to the cabin.
There was a woman with pink roses who threw them down to what looked like a young boy and his nanny. Two older people cried and waved their hankies to what looked to be a newly married couple. A seasoned veteran dressed in his uniform that was impeccably pressed and polished waved stoically what looked like a final farewell to his home.
“It was an amazing sight!” Sorcha gushed after she saw the boat safely out of harbor. “The land just got smaller and smaller until there was nuthin’. Nuthin’ but water in all directions. Ann, you got to get to yer feet and take a look.”
“That sounds amazing, all right. But I don’t think I’m ready just yet.” Annis’ complexion was still green.
“What about sup with the Cap’n? You can’t expect me to just show up, now can you?”
“Course you can.” Annis ruffled. “He invited us both. You heard him as plain as day. He can’t go back on his word just cuz he changed his mind. My gosh. What kind of man changes his mind like a woman that way?”
“I don’t feel right leavin’ ya here all alone.” Sorcha sat on the tiny lower bunk of the bunk beds that her sister was stretched out on. Taking her hand she patted it as their mother would do when either one of them came down with the sniffles. “I know what we’ll do. I’ll send a note to Cap’n Ramsey apologizing, but that we’d both enjoy his company once we are feeling better. I’m sure this happens on more than one accession. You can’t be the first to suffer a bout of sea sickness?”
“I really wish you’d go.” Annis’ eyes welled up.
“We’ll have dinner together here. Tomorrow. We’ll get up with the sun just like at home and have breakfast on the deck with fresh air and sea gulls.” Sorcha wiped away a tear that had snuck down from Annis’ eye across her temple and into her hair.
In her best penmanship, Sorcha composed a quick note of apology to Captain Ramsey and First Officer Dean hoping they would understand the situation and welcome them on another night to enjoy his company at dinner.
Within the hour a dozen red roses were brought to the Breck’s cabin with a note from the Captain. I am sorry you do not feel well. There will be a seat for you at my table whenever you are feeling better. Robert.
“I’ve been walkin’ round this boat all day and somehow you got on a first name basis with the Cap’n steering this vessel without settin’ foot outside the cabin?” Sorcha teased.
“No, Sorcha. Don’t make me laugh. The room spins if I laugh.”
“Were you yellin’ out the porthole?”
“No.” She held her stomach yet chuckled. “Stop it. You’re going to make me vomit.”
Sorcha laughed and shook her head.
“All right. Would you like me to read to you then?”
“That would be nice.”
Sorcha pulled a book from her carpetbag. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. Within the first chapter Annis had fallen asleep. Sorcha sat for a moment then decided she would go topside.
Before she left she sniffed the roses that added a real touch of elegance to what Sorcha thought was an absolutely perfect room. She studied every strand in the tapestry, smelled the clean down of the pillows, listened to every groan and creak of the hull as well as the conversations of the other passengers as they bustled back and forth in the hallway. She wanted to remember this until she was old and gray. She wanted to be able to slip back into this room, lay her head on the clean pillow and smell the salty air at any time her mind needed a rest.
Straightening her skirt and brushing the sleeves of her blouse Sorcha quietly stepped out into the hallway. Peeking one last time at her sister she took comfort in the fact the girl would be back on her feet after a good night’s rest.
But, unfortunately, sea travel was not for Annis. The sky had started out clear and blue the following morning but quickly turned overcast. The waves did not seem large from the deck but made the mighty boat rock up and down causing a good number of passengers to either stay in their rooms or near the railing.
Sorcha found it thrilling. Holding on to the ropes to pull herself along the deck in slick spots she made her way to the bridge. It was customary for guests to pay the Captain a visit and see how a mammoth vessel such as the Oceanic was operated.
With a slack jaw Sorcha watched as the Captain stood at the helm gently guiding the ships wheel to the left and the right while calling directions to his men. The choppy current may have given Sorcha a scare at first but after watching the Captain and his men handle the terrain she was quite impressed with their skills.
Like a ghost or a spray of mist Sorcha made a habit out of stepping up to the bridge a few times a day to watch the crew maneuver the ship. Deep in the back of her mind she almost wished there would be a thunderstorm so as to watch how they would best the waves and carry their passengers and cargo through the tempest.
At night, when most of the crew and passengers were asleep, Sorcha would leave her cabin and walk the deck in the moonlight just pretending.
She would pretend she was pretty, wearing an elegant dress with garnet earrings, talking with a suitor who was professing his undying love to her. But Sorcha would decline his advances. She loved another man who was tall and strong. No, he was not rich and powerful as her imaginary suitor was but poor and lovely.
Alone in the dark Sorcha was graceful and charming. Her laugh was an intoxicating teeter instead of the loud snap followed by a snort. Her fingers were long and thin made for playing the harp or writing poetry instead of the thick stubs she managed with. The perfume she’d dab in her wrists and behind her ears in the afternoon would last like it did on Annis instead of fading quickly into the musky smell of the dirt that made her home of Scotland.
When she was alone she was a swan.
But, everyday as the sky lightened and the ship began to pulse with life of crew and passengers, Sorcha would retreat into the shadows, pulling the brim of her hat down across her face, pulling her collar up high, hiding her hands beneath worn, stained gloves that were her mother’s until she could find time to be alone again.
“It’s those late nights.” Annis finally was sitting up in her bed with her bare feet on the floor. “Did you ever think that maybe a full night of sleep, all the way through, might be helpful?”
“I’ve heard lemon juice gets rid of freckles but I’ve never heard of sleep curing the uglies.”
“Sorcha!” Annis scolded.
“Come on, Ann. We’re grown women. I know what I am.” She let out a big sigh of frustration then took a seat next to her sister. “I could sleep like Rumpelstiltskin and it won’t evn’ make a dent. Besides, I like the wee hours. Everythin’s peaceful. I can enjoy my thoughts.”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk that way.” Annis tucked a stray strand of hair behind Sorcha’s ear. With a heavy grunt and bone-cracking stretch Annis stood. “Will you show me all the sights on this here barge. Take me to yer favorite spot. If I spend one more day in this room I’ll go gooseneck crazy.”
Sorcha new just the place located on the tip of the front of the boat just below the bridge. As she expected there were several empty sitting chairs with small round tables in between. When Sorcha was alone she’d pretend she was steering the ship, her First Officer proclaiming his undying love to her as she maneuvered the iron beast through choppy seas. But alas, she would refuse him. Her only love was the sea.
“The fresh air is what you need. That little window barely lets a draft in.”
Within seconds of arriving an eager young valet in crisp black trousers and a short white jacket hurried up to the two women smiling broadly at Annis then jerking his head back slightly when his eyes fell on Sorcha.
“Two black coffees and a deck of cards, please.”
“What on earth are we gonna do with a deck of cards?” Annis put her hand to her neck and sat down. Closing her eyes she took a couple of deep breaths.
“I watched some old fellows playin’ this game called Gin Rummy. I think I got the rules down pat.” She began to explain the game and just as Annis was nodding her head that she understood, their coffee arrived.
“Oh, Sorcha. I don’t think that coffee was such a good idea.” She swallowed hard, blotting the back of her hand against her forehead. “What’s the matter with me?”
“Well, darlin’, I’m not sure where to start.”
Annis smiled despite queasiness.
“Sure. Jokin’ while yer sister is bein’ tortured by nature.” Annis closed her eyes tightly and began to fan herself with her right hand.
“Do you want a sip of...”
Before Sorcha could finish the sentence Annis was up and running to the railing. In the most unladylike fashion she leaned over and was sick. Grabbing a blanket that was daintily hanging over the back of her chair Sorcha quickly wrapped her sister in it and pulled her gently away from the rails.
Within seconds there was the valet, a footman, the First Mate who had just been passing by and a guest of a rather portly nature and a handlebar mustache all offering to assist Annis back to her room.
“I’ll be fine.” She nodded her head but kept her hand close to her lips. “As soon as I get me self-respect back. “Please take the coffee back.”
Once an adequate fuss had been made over Annis and the men had all gotten a few moments of her time, gazing longingly into her eyes, smelling the sweet talc that was on her skin and feeling the smoothness of her touch as she shook their hands in gratitude the two ladies retreated back to their cabin.
“My heavens it does look beautiful on the deck. I can’t go the entire trip like this.” Annis carefully sat down on the soft bed again. “Denholm will think I look dreadful. What if he decides he doesn’t want me? What if I’ll have gone through all this fer nuthin’?”
“That’s just yer nerves talkin’, Ann. Trust me.” Sorcha gave her sister a wink as she helped her lay back down and covered her with the cloudlike blanket. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
“What’r you doin’ that this bobbin’ and rockin’ don’t upset your innerds?”
“I don’t think about it. There’s too much to see. Too many things to hear.”
“We’ll go again tomorrow. I’ll eat some soup. But no coffee.”
“No coffee.”
And so the sixty-seven day trip passed by with Annis making an attempt every couple of days to stay on deck. The fact the Oceanic ran into two thunderstorms didn’t help the sister’s situation. But Annis did manage to eat and became quite fond of a concoction called ginger tea that eased her troubled stomach immensely.
Sorcha, although distressed that her sister couldn’t be out and about as Annis was much more of a social creature than she, spent most of her time alone enjoying the continual banter of the seagulls, the majestic escort of dolphins along the side of the boat and she swore, right before their arrival in the port of Boston, off in the distance a whale blew a misty kiss straight into the air wishing her well.
“Land, ho! Annis! Look! Look!” Sorcha had scrunched up her face and pushed it as far as possible out the porthole in their room. Sadly, from the outside she resembled a gargoyle peering over the spires of Notre Dame Cathedral. “Our new home! America!”
Annis carefully climbed out of the bed and with her arms outstretched as if walking a tightrope and needed to keep her balance she made her way to where Sorcha was standing. Pulling her sister up to the window she leaned aside.
“It’s beautiful.” Annis started to cry. “Denholm is there. Sorcha how long do you guess it will take to get there? Another day?”
“For the love of Pete, girl. With the way this iron beast is partin’ the waters. Only Moses himself could do a better job. My guess is we’ll be there by this afternoon.”
“This afternoon? Oh, heavens. I’m so nervous. You’d think I was marryin’ a man sight unseen.”
“I’ll get you a ginger tea and some of those little pastries I know you’re so fond of.”
“I don’t think I could eat a bite. But, if you think it might be better to have somethin’ in me stomach. Maybe just one little dainty thing.”
Letting out one of her bursts of laughter that rattled the doorframe Sorcha left her sister and went to the dining area where she absconded with a small white plate decorated with gold leaves around the edge piled high with sugary delicacies. She planned on slipping the plate into her carpetbag, assured no one would miss it.
It seemed the entire boat was electrified at the sight of the destination. The crew scurried about taking orders passed down from the Captain to his first mate to the ensigns on duty. Gray smoke flowed out of the four red stacks like scarves waving in the breeze. It was obvious the crew below deck in the engine room were working double time, anxious for a respite and perhaps to feel a steady ground beneath their feet.
As the ship got closer the dock was decorated with flags and ribbons of red yellow and blue. People who looked very similar to the ones who had waved good-bye yelling Bon Voyage were gathering by the hundreds and watching with anticipation as the boat approached.
The whistle blew every few minutes to indicate their distance and Sorcha wondered if she’d ever again feel that vibration in her chest that the horn had caused. Would she ever go on such a grand adventure as this? Or was her life now about to settle down into a routine as it had in Scotland? A tear came to her eye. In order to keep it from spilling over her lashes she bit her tongue. Sorcha was homely enough but when stricken with a fit of crying she was nearly hideous.
Laughing at her silly tears she took one last walk along the deck that she had roamed on so many late evenings and early mornings. She whispered passionate good-byes to her imaginary beaus who waved to her longingly, promising to love her always and forever.
Weaving her way in between the actual guests and staff Sorcha pulled her wide brimmed hat down further so as not to be noticed. She peeked from the shadow over her eyes at all the special places she had claimed as her own. There was a corridor with a particular photograph of the dining room filled with glamorous people smiling, laughing and enjoying themselves. She had stared at the picture for at least a hundred hours over the span of the trip, putting herself in the middle of all the commotion.
The stained glass mosaic above the grand staircase where the first class passengers went had spread its colors all over the floor like spilled watercolors that Sorcha could wade through. Staring at the patterns and colors she recorded them in her mind. Perhaps when she got ashore she would get paper and paints from a confectionary and recreate the rainbow for herself.
And then there was the small area of the deck at the front end of the boat just below the bridge where she ended her farewell lap.
Within the hour their journey would be over. For just a few moments Sorcha closed her eyes and saw the view in her mind, pretending to give commands and steer the boat. Opening her eyes again she saw a handsome older couple had joined her, holding on to the railing and pointing to the dock, the water and then the sky. Their words made no sense to Sorcha. French they were. But as they turned, the man tipped his hat and the woman nodded her head to which Sorcha respectfully did the same.
Quickly she bustled through the growing crowd of passengers on the deck and back to her cabin. Annis was packed and dressed, every single crumb of the pastries gone and the teapot empty.
“My heaven’s.” Sorcha gushed as she looked at her sister. “You look beautiful.”
“You don’t think the red is a bit much.” She smoothed her skirt that popped in a bright red, black and brown plaid print that were the old colors of Denholm’s family crest.
“Oh, no. I think it’s just right.”
“Are you going to change?”
“What? And throw Denholm into shock by not lookin’ like me old frumpy self. Not on your life.”
“Sorcha, you brought that green frock, I never saw you wear it once the entire trip.”
“I did wear it. You didn’t see because you were too busy hangin’ yer head over the rails.”
“You stop yer teasin’. I can’t force you to wear nuthin’. Wear what ya got on. But I’m going to be getting married and I better not see you covered in that potato sack you call a frock. Maybe if you show off your figure a little...”
“Now, darlin’, do you want to see yer fiancé with a black eye or do you want to see him lookin’ as pretty as a postcard?”
“Oh, please! Daddy isn’t here to protect ya like he used to.” Annis laughed out loud. Then, both women stopped and looked down. Annis turned toward the mirror that was over the nightstand and began to fix her hair, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Daddy’d be so proud of you, Annis.” Sorcha took the silver brush from the table and began to brush her sister’s hair. “He’d be proud of the man ya chose. He’d be proud of ya making this trip. Just remember that ya were his daughter.”
“Yeah, I was his daughter. But you were the apple of his eye. You just remember that.”
The sisters hugged each other tightly, laughing at their tears and giggling over finally stepping on dry land. Double-checking to make sure they had all their belongings they straightened the cabin leaving it as perfect and beautiful as when they had arrived.
Taking their place along the rail with the hundreds of other passengers Sorcha and Annis scanned the dock for Denholm. It didn’t take long to find him.
The red-headed Scotsman stood almost a foot above everyone else on the pier. He wore a plaid jacket and his whiskers had grown out a little.
He immediately found Annis and was madly calling her name, waving his arms. Annis cried tears of joy, waving back and blowing kisses.