by Holly Hook
Is he a liar, too?
"Where's Simon?" I ask, searching up and down the halls. A young couple rush past in the direction of the staircase, holding hands to stay together in the crowd. The stairs are the only way up to the boat deck from Third Class.
"I'm sure he's coming," my father says, adjusting his hat. "It looks like they've woken up everyone on the ship from end to end."
Judging from the hot, stuffy air, he must be right.
We wait for the hallway to thin a little and my father waves us in the direction of the main staircase. I hold Melvin close to me. He's still fascinated by the jewelry box, so much that he nearly trips on a stray life belt.
We round the corner.
"Oh, no," I mutter.
Dozens of people surround the staircase leading up from our section. It's as if a dam holds everyone back, preventing them from pouring through. I stand on my toes to see as I grip Melvin's hand tighter. People bump and push against each other, some in their life jackets, others not. Another steward stands near the top of the staircase, in front of a closed gate that looks more like prison bars than anything else.
"There's no danger," he shouts into the crowd. "Please, put on your--"
Shouts drown him out. A baby cries. His lips move again, but his words get lost in the noise.
It's chaos. Pure, hopeless chaos. The steward's not going to open the gate until everyone gets organized. From the look of things, that won't be for a while.
Too many bad things can happen between now and then. The world closes in. The shouts and questions get louder. I have to get out in the open. That's all I can think of as I study the crowd, the low ceilings, the tight walls. It's getting hard to breathe.
"Father," I say, resisting the urge to tug on his sleeve like I'm the one who's five years old. "We're not going accomplish anything by standing here. We should find another way up."
"I'm not sure how to get to the Boat Deck from here. It's First Class space, I believe. I'm sure they'll tell us where to go once they get everyone here organized."
"I'm not trusting that they'll do that."
"Julia," Melvin says, picking at the ring box again. "Look at this pretty paper."
"Yes. That's nice," I say, glancing at the card in his hand that's bordered in gold leaf. It must have come from underneath the backing in the necklace's box. "Put it back, please."
There's no sign of Simon in this crowd, which grows thicker as small streams of people appear from the surrounding hallways and up the stairs from F and G Decks. Nobody's moving for a while yet. The steward still tries to shout over the crowd and another man translates into a language that I can't recognize. Someone asks something that gets lost in the noise. Why on earth does my father want to stand here and wait? "I'm going to go get Simon. It should only take me a few minutes."
"Julia, I'd prefer it if you stay here." My father's worry lines appear around his eyes. It's the first sign he's given all night that he knows that something's wrong.
"They might not have woken him up yet," I protest, taking a step back and guiding Melvin towards him. I take the ring box and the paper and drop both into my pocket.
"You're not leaving, Julia."
Miniature canyons form in his cheeks as he frowns. I can read the memory on his face, the scars.
"I'm not Mother," I say, keeping eye contact. "I'm going to return. I promise. I won't take more than ten minutes or so."
He lets out his breath as his chest falls and glances around the human logjam around us. "Okay." He fumbles for Melvin's hand. "We won't leave until you come back. You should have time from the look of things."
I nod. It pangs me to turn away and dart down the hall towards Simon's quarters.
It's a long walk. It takes me a minute to find the hallway that leads up and down the length of the ship. After a couple of minutes of searching, I brush past a large family and the long hallway stretches in front of me. The single men rush up it from the front berths of the ship, young, stubbled and hauling their luggage. They brush past me as if I don't exist, desperate to get to that exit that isn't there. Simon isn't among them.
I take a breath and break into a jog, going against the current of people.
Another small crowd of men--all in their twenties, it seems--clear the space in front of me, faces focused ahead of them like they're foxes running from hunting hounds. They leave dark footprints in their wake, the kind that make me think of rainy days back home where Melvin would play in mud puddles and track it into our house for me to clean up.
I lean down.
Feel the footprint.
It's cold and damp as the water in it--no, the ocean--soaks into the fibers.
Icy hands run their way down my back.
I stand and break into a run so fast that the air around me rushes against my ears.
Chapter Fifteen
I dart past the rest of the third class cabins.
Past the dining area, where I see dozens of people gathered out of the corner of my eye. Luggage, life vests, and children surround the tables in a mess. Some of them lean over tables like they're praying, but I don't stop to confirm it.
But I leave that thought behind me as I run, pumping my legs. I zip past another line of wet footprints, and then another, fainter and drier than the last ones but still definitely there. They're multiplying the farther I go, past the laundry room, past the storage, past a couple of men in dirty overalls heading in the opposite direction.
Still no Simon.
More young men push their way through the hall ahead. The footprints are darker now, more ominous. One of them shouts after me in what I guess might be Swedish, but I pay him no heed. Unless he wants to drag me back to the staircase, I'm not turning back yet.
The whole floor is damp as I cross into the other third class section. There are so many wet footprints here that I can't tell them apart anymore.
I'm just about to bolt down the stairs when Simon tops them and bumps into me.
"Simon," I breathe as he takes my arms.
He's trembling.
Breathing heavily.
For once, instead of taking in his eyes, I glance down at his shoes first.
They’re wet. Not just damp, but sopping, mop-wet. Water starts to puddle around them on the top stair, where it's joining the swamp of brine around it.
"Julia," he breathes. "You shouldn't have come down here. You haven't heard? There's water flooding into the ship."
"I'd guessed that much," I tell him, backing away and letting him follow me up off the top step. "They haven't been telling us anything over there, mostly just to put on our life vests and get up to the deck, but they're not letting us up." I can't deny the panic anymore. It's taken over, and I need all of my strength not to let it show. "Aren't there supposed to be water-tight compartments in this ship to keep it from sinking? It's what all the papers have been saying."
Simon licks his lips and turns his head to get the hair out of his left eye. "There are," he says. "But there's water flooding into my berth. It was up to my ankles by time I got my things together and got dressed. I felt this huge bump earlier, but I didn't think anything of it and returned to sleep."
Nobody comes up the stairs behind Simon. Almost everyone has vacated this part of the ship.
I believe Simon but I have to see for myself. I shake out of Simon's grip and head down the spiral stairs. They don't seem right, like I have to put my foot down farther than I should to reach the next step, like the ship itself has started to tilt forward.
Greenish-blue water, now knee deep, covers the floor of the F Deck Third Class rooms. Most of the doors lie open, their occupants gone. Some shouting echoes from far down the hall, a couple of men arguing with each other, but there's no other sign of life. Foam bubbles around the walls and around the staircase, like it's rushing up from below.
I face Simon. "What--"
He's already put his hand on my shoulder, pulling me back. "I heard a rumor about hitting an iceberg." He tugs a
gain, harder. "I'm guessing it ripped a hole in the side of the ship. I just pray the flooding can't get any farther." He shakes his head. "It shouldn't. Come on."
The water laps at, curves around, and swallows another step.
I doubt the flooding will stop here.
I want to push past the crowd back at the main staircase and confront the steward who's telling them there's no danger. I want to take him, drag him back here, and reveal what a liar he is.
I turn and follow Simon up the staircase. The jewelry box bounces in my pocket as we rush back up the main hallway and back towards the jam of people at the E Deck staircase. "We need to hurry," I say. "My father thinks I'm going to leave him. He always does."
"I agree," Simon puffs out next to me as we run.
We pass the dining area, where people still wait with their luggage. For someone to tell them where to go, I suppose. I almost stop, thinking of that water flowing into the bow of the ship, but they're all talking and praying together, merging into a big group now among the long tables. There's little hope that I'm going to be able to interrupt them all long enough to speak. Melvin and my father come first.
"What are they doing?" Simon asks as we pass. "Why aren't they trying to get out of here?"
I think of my father, wanting us to wait. "I don't know."
We clear the noise of the dining area as my sides start to burn, forcing me to slow. I manage, "Thank you for the necklace, by the way."
Simon matches his pace with mine. "Necklace?" He glances down at my neck, to where the teardrop hangs. "I've never even seen that."
I stop, and he with me. We're far enough away from the water for me to regain control of my legs and hold the animal instinct of fear back. This part of the ship's still dry, with no wet footprints around us.
We should get back to my father right now. No waiting. No dawdling. He's waiting and they might open the barriers for us any second. But something inside me fights against all my reason. A voice pipes up from the depths of my mind, small but strong at the same time.
Ask him about the necklace.
I take another step and shake my head, but it returns.
"Julia?" Simon asks, craning his head at me.
Ask him. Now.
Another step.
Now!
The voice gnaws at me. I feel as if there are two of me in my body, with one fighting its way through a hatch and screaming for me to listen. It's the oddest feeling I've ever had.
"Are you all right?" Simon levels his face with mine as he looks over my shoulder.
Now now now now…
I give up and pull him around a corner to avoid a couple of families trying to get their children together. We keep moving. The other voice inside me silences. "Come on, Simon. This is something you'd give me."
Simon scratches his head. "I swear I haven't seen that before."
A fierce need to know more about it grabs hold of me, shaking me limb to limb. I don't understand it. I should be more concerned about the water rushing into the ship, but right now, the necklace takes up everything that matters. I'll probably chastise myself for this later.
"Then who could have put this around my neck?" I ask, searching Simon's face for any signs of jealousy. I pull him around another corner and back towards the stairwell. "It's not something my father would do. At least, I don't think it is." He hasn't bought me a gift in years. He can't afford it. There's no way he could have now after spending all our money on our tickets.
"I don't know." Simon squints his eyes at it, but his features don't harden. Instead, there's a soft patience and understanding. "Melvin?"
"Melvin takes my things, not the other way around."
"You have a point." The first clouds of suspicion start to roll in over his features. Thankfully, it's a protective suspicion, directed at everything except for me. Simon even glances up and down the hall, nearly bumping into the wall. "You didn't hear anyone sneaking into your room while you were sleeping, did you?"
The thought sends a shudder down my spine. "I think I was having a nightmare, but no. I didn't. Not that I can remember." I reach into my pocket to fish out the ring box. My hand brushes against the paper that Melvin found while ripping it apart. I'd forgotten all about it until now.
Open it!
The other me trembles, waving her arms. I stop. Shift leg to leg as I pull out the card. Simon draws closer, staring at it, mouth moving in silence.
My palms sweat as I unfold it.
I expect a price tag.
A receipt.
Even, worst-case scenario, a letter from an admirer that's not Simon.
Not this.
A pair of freight trains in my head speed toward each other as I read the gold-rimmed certificate in my shaking hands.
Certificate of Authenticity
#104 of 500
The coal contained within was recovered from the wreck of the R.M.S Titanic
During the 1994 Undersea Expedition
Maiden Voyage April 10, 1912
Sank April 15, 1912
The trains draw closer to each other.
"Julia?" Simon's voice falls off a cliff as he reads next to me. "What is this?"
Closer.
"Julia?" He grabs my shoulder, shaking.
Closer.
I drop the certificate. It flutters to the carpet, where it lands face-up and stares at me like a sick joke.
Only--
CRASH--
It's not a joke.
I fall back into the wall as my two worlds twist together in a mound of wreckage.
I remember everything.
Simon Nancy Frank Monica Isabel Melvin Eric Peggy my fake mother my real mother my father and Simon…
"Julia!" He's over me now as I slide to the floor. His eyes bulge with concern. They have no trace of gold since Time hasn't stolen him yet. They're eyes that'll grow even bigger with terror when we fall off the ship and towards the icy ocean. "What's wrong?" He squeezes my shoulders tight. "Answer me. Please."
I catch my breath. The truth slams down.
I'm about to die in the sinking of the Titanic.
Time must know I escaped once before. It won't let Simon come back to pull me to safety again.
But then another truth, a gentler one, comes right on its heels.
The Timeless Simon gave me this necklace so that I’d remember both of my lives. It's a trigger. Even Time couldn't find the certificate buried in the box. It took my nosy brother to do that. Simon found a way to trick Time itself.
I can recall all the information I learned about the ship's decks. Its lifeboats. Its inner layout. Even every awful detail of the sinking.
Now I know ways we can escape.
Simon might have saved my life.
The thought is enough to help me collect myself, stand up straight, and wrap my arms around him as hard as I can.
He loves me now and he'll love me just as much in the future. Turning Timeless didn't change a thing.
“Julia--” he chokes out, returning my embrace.
“Thank you." He can't possibly know why I'm saying this. “Thank you.”
He doesn't respond to that one. He must be too confused. “We should get back to your father,” he says at last, clapping me on both arms and purposely not looking at the card on the floor. He doesn't say a thing about that, either.
I don't think he needs to. He saw the water coming in already.
We break apart, and the roller coaster I'm on reaches the top of its hill. It zips down, lower and lower.
My father. Melvin. The lifeboats. All the research comes rushing back to me. There are twenty of them, only enough for a thousand of us, and they're being launched right now far above us for the people with money. The first at 12:45. The last hope, at 2:05 a.m. Worse, two of them won't even have time to be launched.
There's not much time left. A five-year-old has no chance in the icy Atlantic. Then again, neither do I.
“What time is it?” I ask.
; Simon fumbles in his pockets. “I don't see why that's--”
“What time is it?” I demand, harder this time. The noise from the crowd grows louder not too far away, more panicked. Nerves are rising, and rightfully so. I think of that water around Simon's berth and wonder how high it's risen. Up to the porthole by now for sure, flowing and bubbling. If anyone's still down there--
Simon swallows and produces his pocket watch. It's still stained from the time we threw water at each other on the beach. “It's ten after one.”
The coaster takes another plunge downhill.
One hour and ten minutes left before the end.
Even less time to escape.
I grab Simon's arm and lead him towards the crowd noise. “The ship is going to sink at 2:20. Don't ask me how I know this. We take Melvin and my father and find another way up.”
“But--” Simon looks back at the certificate lying on the floor for someone else to find. “Julia, how would you--”
“Just believe me.” I tug harder and Simon gives me no resistance. “If we don't get topside now, we're going to die.”
I'm going to die, I mean to say. Simon will end up perfectly safe in the Hub, but angry, lost and without me. His face darkens in fear as he glances at the certificate, which vanishes around the corner.
If the crowd around the third class staircase was restless before, it's bedlam now. Men yell and struggle, stampeding up the stairwell as a few of the women hang back. Some of them are in tears, holding their children close. I can barely tell one body from the next, except for the pair of stewards that now stand behind the closed gate like jailers. One shouts something, but it's lost in the noise. The gate rattles, adding to the noise. We're prisoners down here.
The panic monster rears up in full again, tearing at my insides and threatening to make me lose it. Simon wraps his arm around me and holds me close as I search the throng for my father. At last he's there, pushing through the wall. He's pale with a look of desperation as he rushes for us.
“Where's Melvin?” he asks, his voice one level below what I'm feeling.
Melvin.