Chapter Twelve

 

Southampton, United Kingdom, April 10, 1912

I landed in the alleyway near a busy street, crowded with people scurrying in every direction. An impressive passenger liner stood docked in the harbor, with four smokestacks towering over the bustling street. Long lines of people prepared to board the ship. I had only made it a short ways when I spotted Shannon’s lithe form across the road, her head spinning back and forth, watchful of Gaia. She paused, her gaze fixed on a couple locked in a strong embrace. The woman had tears in her eyes when she reluctantly left the arms of her boyfriend to depart on her voyage.

Shannon’s hand reached for the nautilus shell around her neck and marched toward the woman, confident in her decision. Too far away to hear their exchange, I saw Shannon’s lips move hurriedly to explain her proposition. She looked from the woman to the ship and back. Shannon reached behind her neck, unfastened the clasp, and presented the jeweled charm.

“She’s making a trade,” I whispered, realizing her intent. “She’s desperate to get on that ship to get away from Gaia.”

The woman wrung her hands nervously, glancing from her boyfriend toward the ship and the future that awaited her. Biting her lip, the woman handed Shannon her ticket and suitcase in exchange for the nautilus shell necklace. Once freed of her obligation, she ran back into her boyfriend’s waiting arms.

Shannon lugged the suitcase toward the boarding ramp, eager to distance herself from this town before Gaia reappeared. In her haste, she stumbled over the weight of the bag. A polite young man dressed in britches and a vest entered the line behind her. He offered her a hand, helping Shannon to her feet. She blushed when her eyes met his. He spoke a few words in introduction before they walked up the boarding ramp together.

At that moment, I realized she had sealed her fate, bound for a new destination far from here. But in order to complete my mission for Pele, I must find my own way onto that ship. I dashed up the street, searching for someone with an extra ticket to sell. Soon, I spotted a man in the center of a crowd of commoners who claimed they were eager to try their luck in New York. I burst through the crowd right up to the front, offering him double his asking price. A satisfied grin wound across his face as he pocketed my bills and handed me a third class ticket. I bolted toward the ship, making it onto the outer deck moments before the crew raised the boarding ramps.

Passengers lined the ship’s sides, enthusiastically waving to the gathering crowd below as the ship set off from port. After the town of Southampton shrank from view, people returned to their cabins, buzzing with talk of a new life in America, the land of opportunity.

I lingered by the railing longer than most, watching the shoreline shrink from view. I didn’t know why Pele needed me here, but felt certain her reasoning would present itself in time. When I finally returned to my deck, I passed a ring buoy looped around a hook on the railing. It read, White Star Line, RMS Titanic. Why did that name sound vaguely familiar? I racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d read about this ship in Mr. Tabor’s class, the day I’d flipped through the history book and discovered my unintentional role in starting the Great Chicago Fire. Unable to recall a single detail, I let the thought fade from my mind, dismissing it as a mere coincidence.

I tried to remain inconspicuous throughout the trip, unlike the first class passengers I noticed on the upper decks, wearing fine garments when they strolled after dinner. The men dressed in tuxedo-style suits and tailcoats, white bowties, top hats, and polished shoes and the women in the latest fashions of inlaid lace dresses and oversized hats with ornate plumes. Instead of parading my clothing, I wore my hat pulled low, pretending to be engrossed in a book on a nearby lounge chair. Sometimes I’d hide in the shadows at a third-class party below deck. Other times I’d casually pass Shannon in the hallway, showing no sign of recognition. All the while, I watched her relationship blossom with the man she met at boarding. A man I had come to learn was named Bradley Burke.

Those first few days of the voyage, Shannon appeared blissfully happy at Bradley’s side, until the fourth evening when Gaia suddenly appeared. She dressed in an opulent evening dress of emerald green that matched her eyes and a woolen scarf around her neck to ward off the cold. Tucking her russet curls beneath a stunning, wide-brimmed hat, she strode right up to Shannon. No wonder I hadn’t seen Gaia yet this trip. With expensive clothes like those, she must have traveled the entire time in first class.

“Go away,” Shannon hissed upon recognizing the Earth Elemental. She locked her fingers firmly inside Bradley’s hand. “I don’t need you. I don’t want your life.”

“This is not your destiny,” Gaia declared. She stepped between Shannon and Bradley, forcing their hands apart. “You are meant to come with me.”

In that moment, I realized Pele was right. The battles I had missed between the Water and Earth Elementals throughout the course of time had shattered Shannon’s levels of patience. In an instant, Shannon’s face clouded with fear and anger. An icy stare glazed her countenance while her fueled emotions manifested themselves in the form of uncontrolled power.

My eyes grew wide, watching Shannon’s irrepressible fury toward Gaia freeze the water into massive chunks of ice that protruded from the inky sea. The cracking crystallization of her element rang clear in the crisp night air. “I said, ‘Go away,’” she repeated in a chilling tone.

I heard the panicked voices of crewmembers alerting the bridge, “Iceberg! On the starboard side!” Loud noises from below carried through the ship. A first officer ordered the engines in reverse to change course. Despite their frantic attempts to avoid the obstacle, Shannon’s iceberg grazed the side of the hull. A grinding metallic sound rattled my nerves when the iceberg collided with the starboard side, buckling the ship’s hull. Fragments of ice scattered across the deck.

All too late, I recalled the passage in Mr. Tabor’s textbook that stated the supposedly unsinkable ship had hit an iceberg, sending over fifteen hundred passengers to their watery graves on its maiden voyage. I swallowed hard, realizing this unfortunate and, according to Pele, unpreventable fate.

Bells rang across the ship, warning people to return to their rooms and don their life jackets and warm clothing to prepare for an evacuation. Gaia and Shannon joined the flow, but I stayed put, afraid to miss them boarding the lifeboats. After a long while navigating the crowded hallways and stairs, they appeared on deck and waited in line with Bradley to evacuate. I noticed an expression of profound guilt written across Shannon’s face. She wrung her hands together nervously with each step closer to the front of the line.

“Women and children only,” the officer announced, motioning for Gaia and Shannon to board. Shannon’s face wrought with worry. She gazed at Bradley, reluctant to leave him behind.

“It’s time for us to go,” Gaia said, placing a strong hand on Shannon’s wrist and dragging the frightened girl onto the lifeboat.

“No!” Shannon screamed and reached out for Bradley. Gaia and one of the ship’s officers forced Shannon into the boat seconds before it dropped suddenly into the water far below. I heard the panicked screams of women and children carry over the melancholy tune of a stringed quartet playing on the outer deck.

From his spot, Bradley watched her lifeboat hit the water. Making a quick decision, he climbed over the railing and plunged after her, hoping to join her inside the boat once at sea. I ran to the railing, squinting to discern the scene below. The icy water quickly sucked the breath from his lungs and seized his limbs.

Shannon turned her head toward Bradley, struggling in the frigid water beyond her reach. The lifeboat drifted farther from the ship. When the life jacket impeded his stroke, he unbuckled the vest, freeing himself from its bulk and splashed through the water after her. “Bradley, no!” she shrieked, but he didn’t heed her warning. The weight of his waterlogged pants and jacket soon pulled him downward.

“Why wait so long? Why won’t she act?” I muttered to myself. After all, this was her realm. What did she care if others discovered her powers? Was she afraid they would blame her for the accident?

Shannon rose from her seat, preparing to go in after him when Gaia placed a restraining hand on her arm to keep her safely in the boat. My heart heaved with sorrow, reminded of my personal pain of losing my friend Lucius at Gaia’s hand in the tragedy that engulfed Pompeii when Mt. Vesuvius erupted.

Unable to swim any further, Bradley gurgled, struggling to stay afloat in the inky water. Shannon wrestled herself free of Gaia’s grasp and leapt from the lifeboat.

Gaia watched, a look of frustration etched upon her face. Shannon sprinted toward him with confident strokes. When Bradley slipped beneath the surface, Shannon dove after him.

I studied the water anxiously, expecting them to break through seconds later. Only neither reappeared. Soon, the trace of her bubbles vanished, leaving only a still patch to mark her last tie to this world.

Why didn’t she use her powers? Why vanish with him? I wondered, at a loss for answers. And why didn’t Gaia pursue her? Those questions bounced around my mind as I saw Gaia sink to her knees in the lifeboat, showing an uncharacteristic measure of defeat. In this precise moment, I could tell the strain of this futile pursuit wore on her. Between battling both Shannon and me to support her cause, Gaia’s resolute determination had begun to fade. However, Gaia—a talented actor—masked her true feelings in front of us, so neither Shannon nor I would realize her internal struggle. I suspected that unless she changed her motive, she couldn’t maintain this pace much longer.

Secretly, I feared my newfound empathy toward the Earth and Water Elementals made me susceptible. Not just to bend under the mounting pressure, but to break into irreparable pieces. Someone had to give, that much was certain. But who would lose her determination first? Gaia, Shannon…or me?

However, I had little time to ponder the answer to that question. The captain shouted, “Release the last lifeboat!” With those few words, a new terror rocked my consciousness…the crew had deployed all the lifeboats.

Leaving me trapped, stranded on a sinking ship.

And to make matters worse, only I possessed an alternate means to escape, even though I could not risk using it here in full view of others where I would cause more alarm. Pangs of loss gripped my heart, remembering Pele’s words. There was nothing I could do to spare the inevitable loss of life in the tragedy at sea.

Or was there? One of the first officers began tossing deck chairs overboard in an effort to buoy those already in the water as the ship sunk bow first. I joined his crusade until we had exhausted the supply. Praying I had helped save at least a few lives, I decided I must leave this ship before I joined the list of names of those who perished.

Struggling against the flow of frantic passengers in life jackets, I fought my way below decks, down several staircases, until I entered one of the boiler rooms where discarded shovels for moving coal lay strewn across the floor after the workers fled to safer grounds.

I felt a sudden lurch, like the ship had snapped in two. “It’s now or never,” I told myself grimly and uttered the chant Pele had taught me, “Ke ahi kea, ikaika o ‘uhane…” The floor beneath my feet tilted at an incredible angle, reminding me of how little time remained before the hull sank to its final resting place upon the frigid bottom of the North Atlantic. Tears of guilt streamed from my cheeks. The white flames sputtered, unwilling to take hold in my conflicted state. I braced myself against one wall and attempted the chant again. But loud cracking noises of the ship’s demise filled my ears, breaking my concentration. The words of the chant lost their meaning and drained my power. With no other options, I dove headfirst into the fiery boiler, my body consumed in flames. I prayed with all my might I would somehow return to Pele.