Everything is fading . . .
***
Mary stared in shock at the bars that had been raised in her absence. Where had they come from? More importantly, how was she going to get past them?
She stood there breathing heavily for a moment, and then gasped out, "Help!" Then, more loudly, "HELP!" She rattled the bars to gain attention. A lady dressed in an evening gown (So impractical this early in the morning, thought Mary) rounded the corner and stood with a horrified look on her face, staring at Mary.
"Please!" Mary said desperately. "I need to get out of here!"
The lady began backing away slowly, then turned and ran down the hall. Mary slumped to the floor in defeat.
"There's a third class child trying to get up here!" Mary heard the woman tell someone down the hall, out of her sight. She looked at her outfit is despair; of course she looked third class. That had been the plan. Now it had backfired on her.
A ship's officer came into view, clutching his hat to his head and puffing slightly. He was young, maybe in his early twenties, with long, angular limbs. He walked right up to Mary and said, "You're going to have to get back to your deck now, Miss. You aren't allowed up here."
"But I'm first class!" protested Mary. "This is where my cabin is!"
His gaze faltered. Sweat collected on his brow. "Look, Miss. This is my first big job. I want to do good. If you belong on the lower decks, do me a favor and return there, will you?"
"But I don't!" Mary insisted. "Go get my aunt, Ellen Jones, she will tell you!"
The man wiped his brow, glanced nervously at Mary, and dashed away.
***
"What in the world were you doing in third class? And dressed in those horrible clothes?" said a shocked Aunt Ellen later that day.
Mary shrugged. "You know, exploring."
"I don't want you going down there again," commanded Aunt Ellen. Though she had never had children she gave orders like it was second nature. "Who knows what kind of diseases those people have." Aunt Ellen scrunched up her nose.
Mary was silent, but it turned out that Aunt Ellen didn't need an answer. She was already jabbering on about the ring her husband was going to buy her.
***
The swish of her paintbrush and scribble of her pastels filled Mary's ears for hours as she sat on the deck. Inspired by her surroundings, she filled page after page with her art. Nothing could distract her from her work. Even after the rest of the people on deck filed in for the evening, Mary stubbornly stayed. Even when the night turned bitterly cold, she just clutched her coat around her, her breath rising in white puffs, and continued to paint and draw.
Finally, however, she realized how late it was. She gathered her supplies, marveling at how silent it was.
Well, almost silent. A shout from above startled her and made her drop her art supplies. Muttering angrily to herself, she got onto her knees and gathered them up, looking skyward, trying to see who the guilty person was.
In the crow's nest stood two men. Mary could barely see them. There were some more shouts, some rustling, and a clang. Then it was silent again. Confused, Mary stood up and started for the door leading back inside.
What had that been about? Mary glanced back over her shoulder, looking for an answer
She got one.
Mary gasped and dropped all her supplies again. But that hardly mattered. In front of her was an impossible sight.
A sheer wall of ice towered over the Titanic.
