Monday, April 15, 1912
“I was just on my way to look for you,” Max said when he finally lifted his head. “I meant to as soon as I got on board. But I must have passed out when I hit the deck, because the next thing I knew, I was lying on a table in a big white room and a fellow in a white coat was telling me to open my mouth so he could look down my throat.”
She wasn’t surprised that he’d been taken immediately to the hospital, given the way he looked. And he must have looked much worse when they first brought him aboard.
She didn’t want to let go of him. It would hurt too much to let go, after finding him again. “I thought—” she began, but he interrupted her.
“I know what you thought. I thought it, too, when I was being pulled down into that water.” They separated then, and Max put an arm around her shoulders and a palm on the opposite wall again as they began walking. They went very slowly. “I knew I was a goner. Couldn’t quite face that, so I tried to come up with some other option. But when I kicked my way back to the surface, all of the lifeboats were out of range. I had a life vest on…that helped…but my coat was drenched and felt like it weighed a ton. I figured it wasn’t going to keep me warm anymore and it was dragging me down, so I thought about ditching it. But that meant getting the vest off first.” He shook his head. He was leaning heavily on Elizabeth, and his breathing as they walked seemed labored. “The thought of taking off the vest scared me to death, because even though the sea was pretty calm, I was afraid I’d lose hold of the straps and the thing would float away. Without it, I had no chance at all.” He smiled ruefully. “Didn’t have that much of a chance with it.”
“But you’re here,” Elizabeth said. She could scarcely believe it herself. But the weight of his arm on her shoulders was proof.
“Almost wasn’t. I was dragged down twice. Fought my way back up, but it was so cold, I knew I couldn’t keep doing that. I figured if I went down a third time, I’d never see blue sky again.”
Elizabeth could see that it pained Max to talk, but she needed to know how he had survived. “But you’re here,” she said for the second time.
He nodded. “I wouldn’t be, if it hadn’t been for my lifesaver. Came along just in time.”
“Lifesaver? What lifesaver?”
Max grinned down at her. “A man so fortified by liquor that he was swimming like a fish, and said he was as warm as toast. Told me to grab onto his life vest and he’d get us to a boat. And that’s what he did. I think it was boat number three. Or it could have been five. Hardly anybody in it, so after arguing a bit about the dangers of being swamped by our weight, they pulled us in. I must have looked like a drowned rat. But the other guy, Ralph something, looked like he’d just taken a healthy dip in a pool. The guy was laughing when he landed in the bottom of the boat, like it was all a big joke. Said he knew he was going to have one heck of a hangover later, but it was worth it.”
He could barely make it up the stairs to the upper decks. Elizabeth had to help him, and he clung to the railing as they went as he must have clung to the man’s life vest straps. Picturing what he must have gone through, Elizabeth shuddered again. But he was alive. He was alive, and he was here, with her.
“Max,” she said as they reached the public room where Elizabeth’s mother still lay fast asleep, “I never did check in the hospital. My father…?”
He shook his head sorrowfully. “He’s not there, Elizabeth. I’m sorry. I don’t know about anyone else. Have you seen Arthur or Lily?”
“I found Lily. But not Arthur.”
Max sighed and sank into an empty deck chair. “They’ll be putting out a list of survivors soon. I hope Arthur is on it, but I’m not very optimistic.” He glanced up at Elizabeth with heavy-lidded eyes. “How many died?”
She told him, and his face went even grayer. “My god. That many!”
“Don’t think about it. I’m trying not to. I’m just so happy that you’re here.” She knelt beside his chair. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Believe it.” He took her hand. His was cold and clammy, but Elizabeth didn’t pull away. “Let’s just hope you remember the next time you feel like arguing with me, how glad you were to see me.”
A stewardess passed by with a tray of cups, and Elizabeth reached out and took one. It was hot, and she handed it to Max, who accepted it gratefully. He sipped silently, his eyelids drooping with fatigue. When the cup was empty, he lay back against the chair. Elizabeth covered him with a blanket, and kept her eyes on his face until he had fallen asleep. Then she sat down on the floor beside him, content to simply rest there, watching him sleep and trying to take in the fact that he was actually there beside her.
The young Irish couple Elizabeth had seen earlier hurried along the deck, their faces still filled with anxiety. Whoever it was they were looking for, it was clear they hadn’t found that person. They hadn’t been as lucky as Elizabeth. Her heart went out to them.
Unwilling to take her eyes off Max, it was a long time before she slept.
Katie and Paddy finally had no choice. They had to give up their search for Brian. They had looked everywhere on the Carpathia. Though they had come across more than one drenched, pallid-faced young man lying on a pallet, most of them had been crewmen, and none of them had been Paddy’s brother.
Paddy’s own face had lost its usual ruddy hue by the time their search ended. “What’ll I tell me ma and da?” he asked Katie as, tired and sad, they made their way to the Carpathia’s lounge. “Me da was partial to Bri, you know. This’ll break his heart.”
Katie knew Paddy’s father. If he was “partial” to any one of his children, it was his younger son, not the older one. “No, it won’t. Their hearts will be broken, you’re right about that. But they still have you. There was people on board the Titanic who lost everyone, Paddy, their whole families. If your ma and da hear the news before you get a message to them, they’ll think you’ve been lost, too. You must get word to them, and to mine, that we are alive. Spare them whatever heartache you can.”
When he had left her in the hands of a kind stewardess, he went to see about sending his parents and Katie’s a Marconigram. When he returned, Katie was lying on a steamer rug on the floor, her arms folded beneath her head, her eyes closed. She was sound asleep, her body limp with exhaustion, her face peaceful. The women surrounding her were either lost in sleep or in grief, and the public room was filled with a somber silence.
Paddy stood over Katie, gazing down at her. In spite of his sadness over his brother’s loss, he knew that he was luckier than most of the people around him, all in various stages of shock and grief. Brian was gone, gone forever, and that was something he could hardly bear. But he still had Katie, a girl whose heart and soul were as fair as her face. She would help him through the worst of it. He hadn’t lost everything. That was more than some who’d been on board the Titanic could say.
With one last glance at Katie, Paddy went to seek out a place to rest his own weary head.