Shipwreck!

by Frieda Wishinksy

  He had to find his father. His father had to be alive. How could his mother and brother cope without him? How could he? And what about his uncle, aunt and cousin? His cousin was young. And though Albert hated it when Lewis treated him like a little kid, he wished he could hear Lewis call him “kid” again.

  Albert closed his eyes. Remember what Philip said. You made it. They might have, too.

  Albert scanned the faces of the people on the deck. As they’d boarded the Lady Evelyn, he’d spotted a young man of about twenty that he recognized from the Salvation Army. He was limping. It looked like he’d injured his leg. Albert didn’t know his name, but he’d seen him back in Toronto when they’d boarded the train for Quebec City at Union Station. Where was that man now? Maybe he knew something about the others from the Salvation Army.

  Albert peered over the railing. They were nearing Rimouski. He could see the pier.

  “Good. Land!” said a man beside him. He had a thick Irish accent. “That’s it for me with the sea. I’ve been lucky two times. I won’t chance a third.”

  “You’ve been lucky two times?” said Albert.

  “You’ve heard of the Titanic, haven’t you, lad?” said the man.

  “Of course.”

  “Well, I was on that ship. I was a stoker there, too. Worked the furnaces on both vessels. William Clark’s the name.” He stretched out his hand to Albert.

  “I’m Albert McBride.” Albert couldn’t believe someone had survived two disasters at sea in just over two years. “You took another job at sea on the Empress?”

  “I liked the Empress. She was sturdy. Maybe not as fancy as the Titanic but solid and well built. She’d plied the Atlantic waters many times. What could go wrong?”

  “The fog. I saw it come in while I was on deck with a friend.”

  “Where is your friend now?”

  “I don’t know. She jumped from the deck like me.”

  The man raised his eyebrows. “A young lady? I hope she made it.”

  “She knows how to swim, and she was wearing a lifebelt.”

  “Then she stands a good chance.” William patted Albert on the shoulder. “Take courage, whatever happens. You’re a survivor, like me.”

  Albert held on to the railing as the ship slowed down. His legs felt weak. They were pulling into the pier at Rimouski. It would be strange to step on land after all these hours. What would he learn when he reached the town? How would he get home from there?

  “I wish you the best of luck, Albert,” said William Clark. “May your luck continue.”

  “I hope your luck continues, too,” said Albert.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rimouski was bedlam. Although it was early morning, crowds greeted the ship when it docked. Newspapermen and photographers jammed the pier. All the townspeople seemed to be out, waiting for the survivors. Everyone was talking about the Empress. They wanted to know how such a tragedy could happen. They wanted to help.

  The crowd watched solemnly as the bodies were taken off the ship. They watched as the injured were carried off on stretchers, and doctors and nurses from all around rushed over to help. They watched as the survivors stumbled off the boat. Many were still dazed, startled by the noise and the crowds.

  Albert knew they were a sad-looking group, but all he could think about was finding his family and Grace.

  Comments and rumours swirled around as Albert and the other survivors made their way down the pier. Newspaper reporters and photographers asked questions, snapped pictures.

  “Did you hear Captain Kendall was drunk?”

  “No. I hear he never drinks.”

  “I heard that the ship wasn’t built properly.”

  “Nonsense. She was a strong ship.”

  “I heard that many of the crew survived. Why didn’t they rescue more passengers?”

  “Look at those poor people. They’re in rags,” said a woman clutching a bag of clothes. “I’m glad I brought these. All my neighbours pitched in to donate.”

  “Imagine! Those poor people were in the water in the middle of the night,” said an older man with a cane. “I don’t know how anyone made it through.”

  “This way. This way,” said a sailor from the Lady Evelyn. “Follow me. We’ll get you all clean clothes and food.”

  Albert followed the line of survivors to a brick building. As soon as he entered, volunteers rushed over, handing out clean clothing, cups of strong tea, fresh bread and hot soup.

  “Do you know if anyone from the Salvation Army is here?” Albert asked a woman with curly white hair and a warm smile.

  “I think I heard of a Salvation Army lad, older than you, who just came in. He was asking for news of his family and others in your group.” The woman pointed. “Over there.”

  Albert’s stomach knotted. Could it be Lewis? He didn’t want to get his hopes dashed again.

  Albert thanked the woman and hurried over to where she had pointed. His heart was thumping hard against his chest.

  A young man was standing behind a curtain held up by a woman. Albert could only see the top of his head. His hair was brown and curly like Lewis’s. There was a gash across his forehead.

  “Excuse me,” said Albert. “I’m looking for—”

  Before Albert could finish his sentence, the young man popped out from behind the curtain. He only had a pair of pants on, and his right arm was in a sling.

  “Albert!” he shouted. He tossed his left arm around Albert’s neck. He smelled of the river and his hair was dirty, but it was Lewis! Albert couldn’t believe it.

  “It’s you. It’s really you. You’re alive!” Albert said.

  “I am, kid,” he said, jabbing Albert in the arm with his left hand.

  “What happened to you? To Father, Uncle Thomas and Aunt Betsy?”

  Lewis’s face clouded over. “My dad is gone, Albert. I saw him get sucked under the ship when she went down.”

  “Oh, Lewis.”

  Lewis bit his lip. Tears dribbled down his cheeks.

  Albert put his arm around Lewis’s shoulder. “Uncle Thomas insisted I hurry on deck and not wait for anything.”

  “I know. He rushed me out of the cabin. My lifebelt was tangled, and he fixed it and made me put it on before he put his on.”

  “Did you reach the boat deck?”

  “Just in time. But we wouldn’t have made it there if you hadn’t come for us. You saved my life, Albert.”

  “We were lucky that our cabins were not on the starboard side of the ship. None of us would have made it if they were.”

  Lewis nodded. “I know. The ship was sinking fast when we reached the deck. There was no time left to do anything. There were no lifeboats around, so we jumped. I saw Father go down and disappear under the ship. I made it clear of the Empress just in time. The Eureka picked me up a little while later.”

  “And Aunt Betsy?”

  “She jumped, too. I saw her in the water. I heard her scream when Father got sucked under, but I didn’t see her after that. I’m afraid she didn’t make it either. I can’t stop thinking about my parents. And your father, Albert? Do you have any news?”

  Albert shook his head. “Father was going to jump after me. I don’t know what happened to him.”

  Lewis hugged his cousin. “It’s too much to take in. Our family … All those people we knew.” Lewis sobbed. “Sorry, Albert. I never cry. I just feel … it’s just too much. How could this happen, Albert? How?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  It was hard to say anything. A lump stuck in Albert’s throat. All he could do was shake his head over and over. How could his uncle, his aunt and his father be gone forever? It can’t be true! he wanted to shout.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about his father and aunt. What if they were hurt? Where would they be? Was anyone helping them?

  And what should he and Lewis do next? Some people were going to the boatshed. That’s where they were keeping bodies until they could be identified.

  “Were you going
to the boatshed to see … about Aunt Betsy?” Albert asked Lewis.

  “I don’t want to. Just the thought of it makes me feel sick. But I have to go. I’ll look for your father too, Albert.”

  “Thank you, Lewis. I … I … can’t stop thinking about them. I can’t stop wondering what happened.”

  “Me, too.” Lewis patted Albert’s back. “Wait for me here. I’ll come back as soon as I can. This may be harder than hitting that icy river.”

  Lewis squeezed Albert’s shoulder and walked out the door of the building. Albert sat down on a bench.

  In a few minutes Lewis was back. His face was white, and he was shaking.

  “I walked over to the boatshed and opened the door, but I couldn’t go in. I don’t know what to do, Albert.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Albert.

  “You can’t. You’re just a kid.”

  “I’m not a kid, Lewis. Not anymore.”

  Lewis rubbed his hand across his forehead. “You’re right. But are you sure you want to do this?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Albert’s stomach knotted as he and his cousin walked toward the boatshed. He didn’t want to go in, but he had to. For a minute the cousins stood beside the entrance to the boatshed. Then Lewis took a deep breath, pushed the door open and stepped in. Albert followed.

  Silently the boys joined a line of survivors walking up and down rows of makeshift wooden coffins, glancing at each body as they passed. Halfway through the boatshed, Lewis grabbed Albert’s hand.

  “Oh no! That’s Simon,” said Lewis. “He was one of my father’s friends. I can’t look.”

  “Don’t look. There’s nothing we can do.”

  The cousins walked on. The only sounds were the occasional wails and screams of people spotting a family member who’d died.

  “Mary!”

  “Father!”

  “Lizzy!”

  It was horrible to hear the anguished cries. Albert knew that at any moment he might see someone he knew. Someone he loved.

  Albert swallowed hard, trying to make the sour taste that kept rising in his throat go away. But the bad taste kept getting stronger. Only a few more steps and you’ll be out of the boatshed, he told himself.

  Beside him, Lewis groaned. Sweat poured down his face. And then, just as they were close to the door leading out, Lewis touched Albert’s shoulder. “No. I think it’s …”

  Albert looked down. The woman in the box resembled Lewis’s mother. “It’s not Aunt Betsy, Lewis.”

  “I see that now.” Lewis quickly pushed the door leading out of the boatshed.

  “I … I …” he muttered. He raced ahead. Albert ran after him. He reached him just as Lewis leaned against a wall and threw up. “Sorry. I feel like I’m the kid now.”

  “It’s okay,” said Albert. “It was horrible in there. I thought I’d be sick the whole time. Come on. Let’s go back to the building.”

  As soon as they entered the brick building, a woman in a blue-checkered apron over a blue-and-white dress approached them with soup and bread. Her grey hair was in a bun.

  “Have some chicken soup,” she offered. “You both look like you need it.”

  “Thank you,” said Albert. “We’ve been … in the boatshed.”

  “That must have been awful. Did you …”

  “No. There’s no one from our family in there. Thank you for asking. Thank you for your kindness.”

  “It could have been any of us on that ship. All of us want to help.”

  Albert sipped the soup slowly.

  “Here, young man.” The woman handed Lewis a bowl of soup, too.

  “Thanks,” said Lewis, pushing a curl out of his eyes. “This looks just like my mother’s soup.”

  “What’s your mother’s name?” she asked.

  “Betsy McBride.”

  “Does she have hair like yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a woman that was just brought in. She’s in shock. She kept saying the name Thomas. Is that you?”

  Lewis’s eyes lit up. He put down the bowl. “Thomas is my father’s name. Where is she?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  Albert and Lewis followed the woman to the other end of the building. A woman with curly, brown hair and wearing a brown dress two sizes too big for her was sitting on a bench. She was staring ahead. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Mother!” cried Lewis. “It’s me!”

  Lewis’s mother turned. Her eyes grew wide. She grabbed her son’s hand. She held it tightly. “Lewis? Lewis? Is that really you? Your father …”

  “I know, Mother. I’m so happy we found you. And look, Albert is here, too.”

  She grasped Albert’s hand. “I can’t believe you’re both here. I was sure I had lost you. I looked everywhere. I asked everyone I saw. Then I thought … the worst. But you’re alive — both of you.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The journey back to Quebec City the next day was quiet and sombre. Albert glanced at the other passengers on the special train transporting them from Rimouski. Many were still in shock. Many spoke in whispers, remembering the people they had lost. Most still could not believe how quickly their lives had changed.

  Albert thought about his father, his uncle, Grace and her parents. Only his uncle’s name was on a list of the dead posted before they left Rimouski, but the lists were incomplete. It was unlikely Grace had made it out alive — so few children had survived. So far it looked like only three had lived through the collision. And few of their large Salvation Army group had made it.

  A crowd greeted the train at the station in Quebec City. So many people had gathered that it was hard to get through to the waiting cars. The survivors who were not badly injured, like Albert, Lewis and Aunt Betsy, were taken to the Château Frontenac.

  It was a beautiful building. It looked like a castle in a fairy tale.

  “I wish my Thomas were here to see this,” said Aunt Betsy when they arrived. “Life will never be the same without him.”

  “I’ll help you, Mother,” said Lewis. “We’ll manage together.”

  “I know, dear. And that does help. More than you know. And it helps to have you here with me here too, Albert. Lewis and I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

  “We were lucky,” said Albert.

  “I just wish Thomas and your father were with us.” Tears sprang to his aunt’s eyes.

  Albert hugged his aunt. He couldn’t stop thinking about his uncle and father. How could he face Eddie and his mother? What would he say to them?

  Albert stared out the window of the hotel room. It felt unreal staying in such an elegant hotel after all that had happened.

  There was a knock at the door. Lewis hurried to answer it.

  “Albert! Come quick!” he called.

  Albert turned around. He stared at the man standing in the doorway.

  “Albert.” The man’s voice was shaky and hoarse. A large bandage covered his head. His nose was swollen. His arm was in a sling, and he limped as he took a step forward.

  “Father!” Albert shouted. He ran over and wrapped his arms around his father. “You’re alive! I was sure you were … Oh, Father.”

  “I thought I was gone, too, Albert. I didn’t know where or who I was when I woke up in the hospital.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so happy to see you. I … I …”

  “I know, son.”

  “Uncle Thomas …”

  “Yes. I heard just before I came up.” Albert’s father held back tears. “I will miss him more than I can say.”

  * * *

  Albert, his father, Lewis and his aunt returned to Toronto on the train the next day. So did the coffins. When they arrived at Union Station, crowds met the train. The draped coffins were carried in a solemn procession through Toronto.

  A week later, a church service was held with many in the city paying their respects to those who had perished on the Empress of Ireland.
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  At the church, people kept coming over to shake Albert’s hand and to tell him how much they had admired his uncle, and how glad they were that Albert, his father, his aunt and his cousin had survived. He still couldn’t believe what had happened to them. Only a week ago they’d boarded the Empress, and now he was part of a funeral procession winding its way slowly to the Mount Pleasant Cemetery. Albert played the cornet beside his father and Lewis. Their new bandmaster had insisted. Albert was the youngest member of the Salvation Army band that day.

  His mother and Eddie watched the procession, but Aunt Betsy stayed home. They’d never found Uncle Thomas’s body, and she said she couldn’t bear to attend the services.

  After the service at the cemetery, Albert and his family stood beside the graves. Albert remembered his uncle and how kind he had always been to him. He remembered how excited they all were about the trip to England and how they’d talked about what they were going to do there as they rode on the train from Toronto to Quebec City. He remembered standing in line waiting to board the ship and meeting Grace. The list of the dead and missing was still incomplete.

  “Albert?”

  Albert looked up. His eyes widened. He gasped.

  “It’s me. Grace.”

  The girl standing in front of him looked different from a few days ago; her eyes had lost their sparkle. “I … I … thought you were …”

  “Dead. I know. Father and I had to stay in Quebec. We were too sick to travel. We only came home yesterday.”

  “And your mother?”

  Grace bit her lip. “Mother … didn’t make it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I miss her terribly but … it helped to hear you play again, Albert. I saw you march in the procession. You never missed a note. You played perfectly.”

  Albert smiled. Grace was right.

  It felt good to play the cornet again and honour all the people he’d known who were gone.

  It felt good to march proudly beside his father and Lewis.

  It felt good to hear his father say, “Well done, son. Well done.”