VOYAGE OF TEARS
By CJ Wells

Vivienne’s tears ran down her cheeks as she squeezed her five year old son so tightly he squealed. She kissed his thick curly chestnut-covered head for the umpteenth time, before handing him to her husband so she could wrap her small arms around them both. Time was running short, she needed to board the ship. With one last kiss for both the men in her life, she turned and ran up the ramp, her meager belongings stowed in a used, threadbare carpet bag.

Vivienne hurried to find an open place at the rail, where she could wave to her family until the massive ship sailed out of Southampton. John, her husband, removed his dark green wool cap, and waved it high above his and Jonah’s head. He was doing his best to make it easier for Vivienne to catch sight of them in the mob that was crowding the pier. She would have spotted them without any help, to her eyes the crowd had disappeared leaving John and Jonah standing alone waving good-by.

The love Vivienne and John shared was true and deep and she knew it would last a lifetime. Several passersby on the pier had taken notice of the perfect family picture the three of them painted. Vivienne was not what would be considered a classical beauty, but she had no trouble living up to pretty. Her dark, chocolate brown hair, nicely complimented her hazel eyes and flawless ivory complexion, but it was her smile that drew people to her. It came as much from her eyes as it did from her lips. It was honest and open, inviting easy conversation.

John’s muscular build topped with thick, wavy, sandy blond hair and ocean blue eyes, had earned him more than one second look. Their son, Jonah, was a perfect blending of his parents. His eyes not quite as hazel as his mother’s, yet not as blue as his father’s, his chestnut colored hair showed equal mixtures of Vivienne and John’s hues. It was obvious, even now that his build would not be as stocky as John’s, but definitely not as slight as Vivienne’s.

At the time Jonah was born, John and Vivienne were young and poor, and had few prospects, but that did not diminish the joy they had in having a child. They were use to making due with very little as they had spent their childhood in the same orphanage. What had begun as a childhood friendship had developed into the love they now shared. Their most important priority was creating a family. They were aware some people, including Vivienne’s mistress, felt they should not have brought a child into a household short on everything except love, but their critics did not understand how inventive love can be. Vivienne and John knew Jonah would never lack for anything that was truly important. Nothing mattered, but the three of them, they would make it together.

Vivienne’s best friend, Joanna, had made her a bright red shawl from a piece of beautiful, soft-as-velvet wool. With tears in her eyes, Vivienne had thanked her friend for the far too extravagant gift. Joanna explained the bright red color was so John and Jonah would be able to see her from the vast distance between the pier and the ship’s deck, and it had worked. Even though Vivienne stood barely five feet tall and weighed less than a hundred pounds fully dressed, the shawl distinguished her from the other passengers. She waved and waved until all she could see were tiny dark specks dotting the pier. The RMS Olympic had departed Southampton Harbor, England at precisely twelve noon on November thirtieth, 1911.

#

Vivienne followed the steward’s directions to the stern of the ship, and “E” deck. She made her way down the narrow, white enameled hallway to her third class cabin. Careful to double-check that the cabin number on her ticket matched the shiny brass numbers tacked to the door, before turning the polished brass knob. Vivienne opened the door to the approximately nine by nine square foot room that would accommodate her, as well as three other passengers, for the next seven days.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing,” commented a sixtyish, buxom woman who was sitting on the first lower bunk, as Vivienne stepped in to the room. She was momentarily startled, but quickly realized the woman wore a friendly smile and hadn’t considered the comment forward.

A young girl sat on the floor, in front of the woman, having her hair braided. The older woman attached a pale pink silk ribbon to the bottom of the second braid saying, “Hop up Leah, I’m finished.” As the girl stood, so did the woman. Bright orange hair peeped out from under her, rather tattered black felt hat. She was no taller than Vivienne, but at least twice as wide. Her face was round, with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes. She extended her hand as she said, “I am Tillie Brooks.” Vivienne took the proffered hand responding, “Vivienne Taylor.” As Tillie continue the introductions, Vivienne realized there was another young girl on the bunk above the one Tillie had just vacated. Tillie indicated her and said, “This is Evie, she is nine.” She then turned and touched the arm of the girl with the braids saying, “And this is Leah, she is eleven. Unfortunately my poor dears lost their parents in a rail accident in August. I am their nanny and am escorting them to America where we will live with their mother’s younger sister.”

At a loss, Vivienne was unsure what to say, the sadness was easily read in both sets of brown eyes. She looked from Leah to Evie and quietly said, “I’m so sorry.” The girls whispered, “Thank you,” both lowering their heads.

Vivienne hoped a change of subject would lighten the heavy mood that had filled the room. She looked around, trying to decide, which berth had not been claimed. Leah quickly figured out Vivienne’s dilemma and said, “Oh, I am on this top bunk,” pointing to the bed opposite where Evie still sat, “and Miss Tillie is on Evie’s side on the lower. I’m happy to trade with you, if you prefer the upper bed.”

Vivienne’s soft heart compelled her to take Leah in her arms and assure her things would get better. Uncertain if the child would welcome the gesture, Vivienne instead smiled and lightly squeezed Leah’s hand saying, “Actually I much prefer the lower berth.”

To confirm her statement, she placed her carpet bag and shawl on the empty bed, and sat down beside them, suddenly feeling drained from the emotional upheaval of the day. Vivienne took a deep breath, and began to take note of her surroundings. She shifted her eyes to scan the room. The walls matched the white enameled hallway. Dark wooden frames attached four narrow bunks to the wall, above the rusty red and white tile floor. In between the bunks, attached to the wall, was a polished wood and white porcelain wash basin. The room was neat, clean and compact.

Leah sat by Tillie, while Evie took a spot on the floor to have her hair braided. Leah and Evie were slender girls, with golden brown hair and oval faces. Their noses graced by a smidgen of light freckling. Both showed the potential to grow into true beauties.

“We’re going to do some exploring before afternoon tea. You’re welcome to join us.” Tillie offered. Without hesitation Vivienne responded, “That would be lovely.” The busier she stayed, the less time she would have to dwell on missing her family.

Evie shyly slipped her hand in Vivienne’s as they left the cabin. The child had no idea how needed the lifeline was she had just thrown to Vivienne. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the small hand she would have to hold while separated from Jonah.

The four cabin mates found themselves standing at the rail watching the ship dock in Cherbourg, France, to allow the embarkation of three hundred or so more passengers. They were enjoying the sights and laughing together as if they had been lifelong friends.

#

Dinner was served in a large square dining room with long tables covered in starched white tablecloths. They dined on roast beef with gravy and boiled potatoes, fresh bread and plum pudding, more food than had ever graced John and Vivienne’s table at one setting. She felt guilty for the luxury she was enjoying while John and Jonah were alone in the drab little room they called home.

Defiantly raising her chin, she reminded herself, they would not call it home for long. They might never be wealthy in America, but they would have enough to be content.

#

Not having spent a single night separated from John since they married seven years ago, Vivienne was dreading the first night aboard ship, afraid the dark and quiet room would retrigger her tears, but she had underestimated Tillie.

Tillie Brooks was a people person, curious and insightful. She paid attention to every word and wrinkled brow, and put the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle. She was confident she had formed a fairly clear picture of Vivienne’s situation.

Leah and Evie put on new cotton nightgowns, and were tucked up in bed with a good night kiss on the forehead. They cuddled down for the night, and were fast asleep within ten minutes.

Tillie and Vivienne had also made themselves comfortable in their respective beds after flipping off the light. Tillie shifted to her side, turning toward Vivienne, she softly asked “Are you up to sharing why you are sailing to America without your family, or would you rather wait until tomorrow?”

The dark room hid the smile that touched Vivienne’s lips, but after a full day of getting to know Tillie’s curious nature, the question did not come as a surprise. Vivienne took a deep breath and began her story, her voice strong and determined.

“I am going to America to take a position as an Abigail.” After a slight pause Vivienne continued in a softer, distant tone, as sadness filled the memories she was about to relate. “My sickly mother, who could no longer care for me, left me at an orphanage when I was two years old. That was the last time I saw her, she died shortly afterwards. My only saving grace from that drab, dark place was John. He was only four years old when we met, but he took me under his wing. I fell in love with him the moment I looked into his blue eyes. From that moment on we were inseparable. At least until he turned nine years old and the orphanage sent him to a bakery for training. Although he came home in the evenings, our time together was severely limited. Devastated by the absence of my best friend, I begged to be placed in a position somewhere, anywhere that would fill my days with work and drive away the loneliness. Less than a week later my employment began in the household of Lady Beatrix Miller. Little did I know I was jumping from the frying pan into the fire. She was a young, beautiful, spoiled brat. She had married a man fifteen years her senior who had even more money than her overindulgent father. Lord Miller cared little how much of his money Lady Beatrix spent, as long as she fulfilled her purpose of being his hostess for grand affairs and a vessel to produce an heir. The marriage was cold and loveless and suited them both perfectly. I started out as scullery help, but soon worked my way up the servant ladder. For the past ten years, I have worked as lady’s-maid to Lady Beatrix. She is haughty and cruel, and assumed my lot in life must go along with being stupid and unlearned, but I read and write far better than she does. She was born with enough money to never work a day in her life. Why is it that people who do nothing to earn their keep, look down their noses on those that do?”

It pleased Tillie to see that she had not been mistaken, underneath Vivienne’s docile nature and small stature was a bucket load of spunk.

Vivienne’s voice changed once again, smoothly reverting back to that of strong confidence as she continued. “I married John seven years ago and two years later, Jonah, our son was born. He is rambunctious and loud and is the light of my life.” She took a deep breath to relieve the catch that had tightened her throat.

“John is a full-fledged baker now,” she continued. “He and Jonah will join me in New York in a few months.”

“I feel as if a miracle dropped out of the sky to bring me here. I was going through my daily duties, which for three days included being available to Mrs. Polly Franklin, a guest of Lady Beatrix, who was visiting from America. Mrs. Franklin turned out to be both lovely in spirit and face, and gave me my dearest heart’s desire.”

“On the third morning of Miss. Polly’s visit (I was graciously told to call her Miss. Polly), she summoned me to her suite of rooms and closed the door. I was apprehensive, thinking I was to be reprimanded for a miss-step, but instead, she asked me to please sit with her on the dainty pale green settee at the foot of the ornately carved canopy bed. She took my hand in hers, and asked about John and Jonah, and had we ever considered leaving England for America? I tried to speak, but nothing came out. It was like asking a starving man if he would like a loaf of bread.”

“I started to cry, afraid to believe that what I wanted most for my family might truly be a possibility. I explained that we had saved every spare penny towards that end and were getting close to the passage fare, but we would have no money to live on until we found positions. Miss Polly smiled and patted my hand and said I had misunderstood, she was not asking a casual question -- she would like me to consider being her Abigail. With a mischievous smile she said she was sure she would never be invited back to the Miller’s after stealing me away, although the thought was unspoken, neither of us felt it a great loss.”

“I was beside myself and felt I might faint. She gave me a hug and said we could talk more that afternoon, and work out the arrangements. I felt like I was floating a foot off the ground for the rest of the day. I held my secret close to my heart, not wanting to share it with anyone except John and Jonah.”

“That afternoon, Miss Polly had everything in order. She had checked the schedule of the ships sailing to America, and wanted me to leave for New York on the thirtieth of November, however, she understood I needed to repeat her offer to John. She felt it best if I came for a short time in order to settle in, before John and Jonah joined me. She explained that America was very different than Britain, and if I found myself unhappy, she would gladly provide a return ticket.”

“I burst through the door that evening and ran straight into John’s arms, but when I tried to tell him the news the tears started flowing and I muddled my words. After frightening him and Jonah near to death, I finally got control of my emotions and explained. I had never seen John cry, until that night. I don’t think either of us slept a wink.”

“The next day I had a ticket in my hand and a bit of spending money in my pocket to get me to America.” Vivienne turned toward Tillie for effect, “Do you know Miss Polly actually apologized for giving me a third class ticket, explaining that no second class cabins were available? I told her I would happily shovel coal all the way across the Atlantic Ocean if that would get me to America.”

“So, there you have it,” Vivienne finished as she returned to her back, “The tale of my life story, and I feel better for the sharing.”

Vivienne heard the bunk creak slightly as Tillie turned from her side to her back and whispered, “Sweet dreams, Vivienne, you have made sure I will have a few myself.”

Vivienne felt happy and relaxed, she easily slipped into a deep restful sleep.

#

Vivienne bought pen and stationery with some of her spending money, and took time each day to write a few lines to John and Jonah. She described the ship, the people she had met, and the dolphins that would race beside the ship. They would fly through the air, then dive and disappear beneath the waves. After each session she would neatly fold the paper, and place it back in its folder. She planned to seal them together and post them on the last day aboard ship.

The mild weather held for the duration of the crossing, easing those who became seasick. Thankfully, none of the four friends suffered from that affliction. They spent their days on deck enjoying the fresh air, or in the large, well-appointed common room. They were fortunate to have a good number of talented musicians in third class. Some had brought violins and other small instruments that they joined with the piano provided by the ship. There were boisterous sing a-longs and carefree dancing, making the seven days pass very quickly.

The ship’s scheduled docking at the New York City pier would take place the following day. At two pm, on December seventh, Vivienne would walk off the ship and into her new life. Her emotions were changing by the minute, form excited to frightened, to content. She had no idea how to convince her eyes to close long enough to fall asleep. Leah and Evie were having the same difficulty, but the soothing rocking motion of the ship was like a sleeping potion. The gentle to and fro soon lulled all of them into a peaceful sleep.

#

The next morning found the cabin filled with excited chatter, laughter, and what fragment of sunshine the porthole allowed into the room. It would be hours before they reached New York, but all the bags were neatly packed and ready for debarkation. Breakfast had, until today, been a leisurely time to talk of the day’s plans and relax, but this morning the girls constantly fidgeted and Vivienne couldn’t eat more than two bites. She checked the large round clock hanging on the far wall, it showed eight am, but they were not due to dock until two pm. Six hours! How were they to keep busy for six hours?

“Let’s walk,” she said as she abruptly stood up. They retoured all the places they had seen several times before, but the activity was helpful. As usual, Evie, held Vivienne’s hand, but today a little tighter. She looked up at Vivienne and pleaded, “You promise you will not forget us?” Vivienne realized her nervousness was affecting the girls. She stopped and squatted down to be eye level with Evie. “I will never forget you, and I will come see you as often as possible.” Evie smiled her relief and wrapped her arms around Vivienne in a big hug. Vivienne returned the hug and consciously forced her body to relax.

The question had released all of them from their case of the nerves. They decided to sit on deck and read for awhile. The girls had brought a large book of beautifully illustrated fairy tales. It had been a wonderful surprise to find out that not only could Vivienne read, but that she had a flair for the dramatic. She enjoyed bringing the characters to life, in fact, by the end of the story the group listening had grown from the four of them to a rather large crowd.

After an hour of walking and an hour of reading, the deck was full of passengers. Everyone began telling stories of where they were from and why they were going to America. Some spoke in broken English or no English at all, and looked to interpreters to explain. They laughed with some and cried with others, and were all startled when the lunch bell rang, unaware they had been sharing for two hours. Lunch was simple and short, but still took up another hour.

The four cabin mates rushed back up on deck, they could see New York harbor coming into view. They were still a long way out, but that didn’t stop them from racing downstairs to retrieve their belongings, and leave their little cabin for the last time.

Evie held Vivienne’s hand, slowly tightening her grip as New York grew closer and closer. Vivienne raised their locked hands up to kiss Evie’s, giving her a brilliant smile of reassurance.

#

The docking was a slow arduous process, but the ramps were finally lowered, allowing a continuous stream of people to flow out of the massive ship. A beautiful woman, who looked more like a china doll than a living person, hurried up to the girls with tears flowing down her porcelain skin. The emerald green velvet cape she wore perfectly matched her eyes and added an extra glow to her golden blonde hair. It was apparent the girl’s dark hair had come from their father’s side of the family. Leah slid easily into her aunt’s arms, but Evie hesitated, not wanting to let go of Vivienne. With Evie in tow Vivienne took a step forward. She extended her free hand saying, “It’s so nice to meet you. I am Vivienne Taylor. I shared a cabin with your nieces and Tillie.”

“How nice to meet you, are you staying in New York?” The girl’s Aunt Sharon, asked as she took Vivienne’s hand in between her two small gloved hands.

Vivienne explained her situation and asked Sharon’s permission to visit the girls and Tillie. She graciously invited Vivienne to visit as often as possible. Vivienne had felt Evie’s grip relax as the conversation continued. Sharon did not try to take Evie’s hand from Vivienne, instead she bent down and lightly touched Evie’s cheek, informally introducing herself. Evie hesitantly let loose of Vivienne, then wrapped her small arms around aunt’s neck. Sharon joyously returned the gesture. It was a bittersweet moment for Vivienne, who felt a mixture of loss and joy hit her heart.

With perfect timing, Miss Polly called Vivienne’s name. All turned to await the arrival of the approaching impeccably dressed lady. There was nothing arrogant about her, but it was quite apparent Fifth Avenue was her neighborhood. Everyone took turns exchanging introductions, which were all too quickly followed by the exchange of good-byes. Tears and hugs were shared with the promise of future meetings. Evie turned around to wave to Vivienne one last time. Polly and Vivienne did not move or speak until the girls had been swallowed up by the crowd. Polly lightly laid her gloved hand on Vivienne’s arm.

“Well, Mrs. Taylor, are you ready to see your new home?”

A gentleman dressed in a austere black suit and hat, who had been standing at a reasonable distance, now stepped up to take Vivienne’s carpet bag.

“Vivienne, this is Zeke. He is our chauffeur, butler, and all-around handyman. Don’t be fooled by his dire look, in reality, he is just a big ol’ teddy bear,” Polly confided to Vivienne with a grin.

Zeke’s stony expression did not soften, but as he reached for her bag he winked, confirming Miss. Polly’s description. Vivienne grinned, but restrained the giggle threatening to escape.

“Nice to meet you, Zeke,” she said, confident a friendship had been born.

#

Zeke led the way through the mob of people gathered on the pier, to a green and black Rambler Knickerbocker Limousine parked on the curb. To Vivienne it looked like a picture postcard.

Vivienne’s eyes widened, she had never seen anything like this, nor had she ever had the opportunity to ride in a motor car. “Vivienne, you are a refreshing joy,” Polly commented, seeing the awe in Vivienne’s eyes. Her eyes continued to widen as they made their way down a beautiful tree lined boulevard to a five-story, white marble mansion. Miss Polly had been right, New York certainly was different from England, from the weather to the street of mansions in the middle of the city.

The Franklin’s home was an Italian Renaissance-style, with balconies and cast iron accents, topped with a classic marble balustrade. The five floors were filled with antiques, priceless works of art, and Persian carpets. A confirming display of the Franklin’s good fortune scattered throughout the house, not to impress, but merely for their own enjoyment. George Franklin was a self-made man, having borrowed a thousand dollars from his uncle to invest in a copper mine. With the money he made on the first mine, he returned his uncle’s loan and bought a second mine. He reinvested his profits several times and now held title to twelve mines.

George and Polly had grown up in the same middle-class neighborhood, both living in modest homes provided by hard-working blue-collar parents. They regarded their good fortune as something to share and enjoy, not a license for pompous rudeness. Their household staff knew their place, but was confident of respect and fair treatment. It made for a pleasant home for everyone.

Vivienne was shown to her quarters, which turned out to be a suite of rooms. She was the only staff member who lived in the mansion, allowing her the use of, two bedrooms, the sitting room in-between and a small private bathroom. Jonah would be so excited to have his very own bedroom. The bottom floor and back of the house location allotted Vivienne a private entrance opening onto a small walled garden. She was in heaven.

#

The next day she was introduced to Mr. George Franklin. He was incredibly handsome. His salt and pepper colored hair was thick and wavy. A strong jaw line, full lips and aquamarine blue eyes completed his near perfect face. He stood over six feet tall, and had the build of a star athlete. Vivienne extended her hand, but was at a loss for words. Polly chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to his beauty.” He was

beautiful, like a marble statue. He took Vivienne’s breath away. With a sheepish grin he took Vivienne’s hand and warmly welcomed her.

The cook, Zita, was the next to be introduced. She was a round, robust, outspoken woman from Hungary. If the delicious dinner she had served last night was any indication, she was a wizard in the kitchen.

The last member of the staff she met was Emma, the maid. Like Vivienne, she was British. Also, like Vivienne she was soft-spoken, with a small build, dark hair and hazel eyes. They were similar enough to have been sisters. Their friendship began before a word had passed between them.

Vivienne fell into an easy routine with the rest of the staff and the Franklins. She found she was as much a secretary to Miss Polly as a lady’s-maid, which was fine with her. She was learning about clothing and charity work and the interworking of New York’s upper class.

#

At one point, Vivienne tried to return the spending money Miss. Polly had given her for the crossing, but she would not accept it and told Vivienne to spend it on something nice for herself. There was only one thing Vivienne wanted, and that was something special to send to Jonah for Christmas.

Released from their duties for an entire Tuesday, Emma and Vivienne made their list for a Christmas shopping excursion.

The city was exquisite covered in snow, looking like an expensive glittering Christmas card. The two friends giggled and jabbered as they bundled up for the walk to the shops, a few blocks away, but when they opened the front door, there was Zeke waiting for them by the motor car. “Ladies,” he said as he bowed and opened the car door, “Miss. Polly has given you the use of me, and the car for the day.”

Vivienne and Emma hugged each other as they jumped up and down before rushing to climb in the back seat.

“Where to, ladies,” Zeke asked as he slid into the driver’s seat. They recited a list of gifts they wanted to look for, the most important being something very special for Jonah.

Zeke drove them to a tiny toy store nestled between a large department store and an apothecary shop. The bell jingled when they opened the heavy wood and plate glass door. The small bald proprietor came out from behind the counter and greeted Zeke with a bear hug. Zeke explained this was his Uncle Herman. He made the introductions then related Vivienne’s story, asking if he had something unique for Jonah. Herman’s eyes lit up and he said, “I’ll be right back,” before disappearing into the storeroom behind the counter.

When he returned, he was carrying what looked like a large, gray hatbox. He set it on the counter and took off the lid. Inside, under several layers of white tissue paper, laid a stuffed, gray velvet circus elephant. His trunk was curled up and touching his head, which was covered with a red silk diamond shaped decoration. A red velvet blanket with gold trim and tassels covered his back. Its beauty was breathtaking, but Herman wasn’t finished yet. One of the decorations on the blanket was actually a tiny button. Underneath the blanket, inside the elephant’s back, was a hidden pocket filled with three tiny monkeys. It was perfect, but it looked so expensive. Herman handed Vivienne the beautiful toy, she brushed her hand across the smooth grey velvet before saying, “I’m afraid I should have told you my funds are limited. This must be very expensive.”

“Not as expensive as you might think. What did you intend to spend?” Herman asked.

Vivienne pulled out a small leather change purse. She had three dollars to buy all her Christmas presents, but this was by far the most important, so she answered, “I have one dollar and fifty cents.”

Herman reached for the elephant, placed it back in the box, and closed the lid. He tied it shut with twine and handed it to Vivienne, smiling he said, “Today, the cost is one dollar.”

Amazed and overjoyed all Vivienne could say was, “Thank you.”

Over Vivienne’s head Zeke winked at his uncle and escorted the ladies back to the car. At Miss. Polly’s request he had visited his uncle’s shop the day before, to pick out a present for Jonah, and make arrangements to pay whatever the difference was between Vivienne’s one dollar and the actual cost.

The three friends had a lovely day shopping and enjoying lunch at a small café. Zeke was a wonder. He knew where to find everything, of the finest quality at the lowest price. Vivienne had seventy-five cents left in her change purse after buying all her presents. She was anxious to return home and wrap the elephant and the stylish, brown, cashmere wool cap she had bought for John, readying them for posting the next day.

It was not going to be an easy holiday for Vivienne. Christmas was for sharing with your family. For enjoying Christmas pudding, and opening brightly wrapped packages on Christmas morning, but being separated by an ocean from John and Jonah left a gaping hole inside her. A bright spot came when she received an invitation to Christmas dinner with Evie, Leah and Tillie at the girls, Aunt Sharon’s house. She had bought a yellow silk ribbon for Evie’s hair and green one for Leah. Zita had donated one of her Christmas puddings for Tillie and volunteered to help Vivienne make a rum cake for her hostess.

#

Once the holiday season had passed, the days seemed to fly by, turning days to weeks and weeks to months. Before Vivienne knew it, she had been in New York for three full months. Miss. Polly called her to the little alcove where they wrote letters and set up her schedule and appointments.

“We have a special letter to write today,” Miss. Polly told her, gesturing for Vivienne to take a seat at the black enameled oriental writing desk. She pulled out a sheet of monogrammed stationery and a pen from inside the desk, and looked up at Miss. Polly in anticipation as she began dictating the letter to Vivienne.

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Please find enclosed tickets for yourself and Master Jonah on the RMS Titanic departing Southampton on the 10th of April.

Miss. Polly stopped speaking and squeezed Vivienne’s shoulders, handing her a handkerchief to dry the tears threatening to fall. “I am assuming you do want to stay? You seem to have adjusted well, and I believe you are happy here with us.”

Vivienne dabbed at her eyes. “Oh yes, I do want to stay, I am more than content here.”

“Lovely,” replied Miss. Polly, “I thought so. Now, let’s finish our letter so Zeke can post it today.”

Vivienne placed the tickets and an adequate amount of expense money in the envelope, sealed it and posted it to England. In six weeks Vivienne would be reunited with her family. Until then, she would have to work at staying busy, aware the hours would seem to crawl by at a snail’s pace.

#

John had resigned his position at the bakery and said his farewells to their friends. He had used some of their savings to buy himself and Jonah a new set of clothes for the trip. He carried two small bags, while Jonah carried his elephant. Their second class cabin was the nicest room John had ever seen. The ship smelled of new paint and clean linen. The beds were neatly made and the tile floors polished to a near mirror finish. There was a small closet and a wash stand, an upper and lower berth and a miniature maroon upholstered couch. Jonah stood in the middle of the room beside John, apprehensive about touching anything. John smiled down at his son. “It’s all right, Jonah,” he assured him, leading him to the lower bed.

“This is going to be you and your elephant’s bed.” Jonah lightly ran his tiny hand over the cotton coverlet, and then pushed to test the bed’s softness. A big smile lit up his face as he climbed up on the bunk.

The dinner bell rang while John and Jonah were exploring and admiring the moon reflecting off the waves. As they entered the dining hall they found themselves in line behind a lady holding the hand of a small boy, who looked to be about Jonah’s age. He turned around to smile at Jonah, his mother also turned to see what had distracted her son. She smiled down at Jonah and made a quick nod of greeting to John. When their turn came to be seated, the four of them ended up at the same table. The little boy’s name was Geoffrey, and he was also five years old. His mother, Martha Simms, was going to America to take a nanny’s position in New York. She explained that her husband had died in a coal mining accident two years ago. They had only distant relatives left in Wales so she decided it would be best for them to try to make a fresh start in America. Her new employer had also paid, what seemed an exorbitant amount, for her second class ticket.

John studied Martha’s face, deciding she was probably younger than she looked. She was somewhat plain with mousy brown hair and dark brown eyes. She had none of Vivienne’s beauty, but she did have the same sweet disposition. He couldn’t help, but wondered if taking away the stress of trying to survive after her husband’s death, would erase some of the lines that had prematurely aged her face. The boys had gravitated to each other immediately. They quickly became engrossed in an in-depth conversation about the toys they had brought on board. Geoffrey was a sturdy built boy with hair so dark brown it was on the verge of black. His eyes were as dark brown as his hair and his skin had an olive tint. Martha explained he was the mirror image of his father.

The two families began to feel like kindred spirits after John had related his and Vivienne’s story. They discovered their cabins were merely three doors apart.
Geoffrey had brought a large green rubber ball with him. The boys made a bit of a nuisance of themselves, running and kicking it on the open deck. For John and Martha, it was a godsend, as they completely wore each other out, neither fussing when told it was bedtime.

#

The fourth night on board found John tossing and turning on his bunk, finding it hard to relax and fall asleep. His thoughts kept drifting to Vivienne, thoughts that normally brought anticipation and joy, tonight, brought nervous apprehension. He was unable to account for his melancholy mood. He listened to Jonah’s rhythmic breathing. He was cuddling his elephant, securely curled up under the soft cotton blanket with the White Star Line logo stamped on it. John smiled, remembering the look of awe on Jonah’s face as he opened the big gray box on Christmas morning. He had rarely put the elephant down since.

Suddenly there was a screeching noise as the ship began to lightly shudder. John sat up, listening. The hairs on the back of his neck stood out. Something was wrong, very wrong. John’s anxiety rose as he silently slipped off his bunk, quickly checking to make sure Jonah had not been disturbed, he stepped out the cabin door. Martha opened her door at the same time. He told her to stay put. He would go up on deck and see what he could find out. When he returned, his face was stern, as he told her they had hit an iceberg. John confided to Martha that the steward spoke confidently of there being no danger, but the man’s eyes did not match his statement.

Holding Martha’s gaze, John tried not to scare her more than necessary, as he calmly said, “I don’t want to frighten you, but I think we need to be prepared. Wake Geoffrey and dress him as warmly as possible. Don’t take any bags, but if you have any valuables wear them. I’m going to do the same with Jonah. I’ll return to get you and Geoffrey shortly.”

Sure he had prepared them as best he could, he turned to go back to his own cabin, and Jonah. Once inside he pulled off his thin gold wedding band and took out the picture of Vivienne he always carried. Quickly finding the stub of a pencil he had in his bag, he wrote on the back of the photograph, “I will always love you, Love John.” He then wrapped the ring, photo and their remaining money in his handkerchief and tied the corners together.

John eased the elephant out of Jonah’s arms, unbuttoned the blanket and slid the little white package inside the hidden pocket, with the monkeys. He gently shook Jonah, waking him enough to get him dressed. After carrying him out of the cabin he hesitated, then returned to grab the life preservers.

Martha heard his hurried footsteps and opened her door. Her eyes were wide and John realized she was on the verge of hysteria. He needed to reassure her before her fear took hold. He smiled and took her hand. “It will be okay, I promise.”

John breathed easier, seeing her physically relax. Jonah was asleep on John’s shoulder, but Geoffrey was fully awake with wide frightened eyes. John squatted down and took his hand, “We may have a big adventure tonight, you must promise me, you will do exactly what your mother or I tell you.” Geoffrey didn’t speak, but he nodded his head in agreement.

When they walked out onto the open deck there were passengers everywhere. Their faces showed a myriad of emotions, some totally unconcerned, others on the verge of hysterics.

John led the way to the nearest lifeboat. “We’ll stand here for awhile,” he said.

The first lifeboat creaked as the crew lowered it to the side of the ship, escalating the already chaotic scene. People began to run as the crew continued to promise all was well, and that the lowering of the lifeboat was merely precautionary. John knew better. He didn’t care what it would take -- he would get Jonah into one of those lifeboats.

John and Martha, with the two boys were standing by the third lifeboat. John had heard the call for women and children only.

He took hold of Martha’s shoulder, looking in to her frightened eyes he sternly said, “Martha, look at me and please do not argue. They are not allowing men in the lifeboats. I need you to take Jonah with you and Geoffrey.”

John could see the panic in her eyes start to grow, but she did not falter. One of the crew members stepped beside John, loosening the rigging to lower the lifeboat. He instructed Martha, to please quickly step in. When she was seated John handed her Jonah, who was still clutching his elephant. The loss of his father’s warmth and the jarring movement of the lifeboat brought Jonah fully awake. He looked down to see it inching its way toward the dark freezing water. His eyes flew up to his father, and he cried out, “Papa?”

John forcibly steadied his voice before saying, “It is okay, Jonah, stay with Mrs. Simms and Geoffrey and I will see you soon.”

John had no idea how he had kept his voice from breaking, when his insides were crumbling. What others could not, or would not see, John saw quite clearly. There would be no lifeboat for him. He would die on this ship.

#

Zeke walked stiffly into the dining room. “Sir,” he said in a strained voice, “may I speak with you in the study?”

George Franklin looked up from the breakfast he was, until this interruption, enjoying. Concerned by Zeke’s demeanor, he immediately gave him his full attention. It was the normal routine for Zeke to bring Mr. Franklin his morning paper, but this morning he held the paper rolled in his clenched fist, with a pale face and weary eyes. Mr. Franklin led the way to his study without delay, taking a seat in the large leather chair behind the desk. Zeke stood in front of the desk, opened the paper, and laid it out. Mr. Franklin’s face drained of blood. He walked to the door and shouted for Polly.

Polly rushed down the stairs. George rarely bellowed, and never at her.

“What’s wrong?” She asked as he shut the door behind her. He pointed to the offending newspaper that displayed the glaring headline of the sinking of the Titanic. Polly sat down hard in the nearest chair.

“Where is Vivienne?” George asked gravely.

Polly dashed away her tears and cleared her throat. “She’s upstairs, I will find her.”

#

Vivienne’s world was turned upside down by the events of April the fifteenth, 1912. At this moment the only thing she knew for certain was the ship that should be bringing her family safely to her, now rested at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. It would be three agonizing days before she would know if John and Jonah were among the survivors. For those three days she walked in an emotional fog, mechanically carrying out her duties without thought or recognition.

The RMS Carpathia, carrying the survivors, arrived the evening of April eighteenth, docking at Pier 54. George made his way through the frantic crowd filling the pier. As he questioned passengers and crew for information about John and Jonah, he noticed a woman pass by, struggling with two small boys. One of the boys clutched a dirty, water- stained, stuffed elephant. George cautiously approached the woman. She was mindlessly pulling the boys toward the transfers to the hospital, it was clear she was in shock.

George lightly touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry to detain you, madam, but I must ask, are both these children yours?”

Martha looked at him blankly and simply answered, “No.”

George’s hope soared, pointing to the little boy holding the elephant, he breathlessly asked “Is this Jonah Taylor?”

This question seemed to rouse Martha from her stupor. “Yes, yes it is. I have to find his mother.”

Absolute relief spread through George. “Vivienne, his mother, is my wife’s Abigail.”

George did not want to ask the next question, but he had to know. “And John?” Martha closed her eyes and shook her head.

Both boys were clinging to Martha, weary and frightened. He did not want to cause them any more distress, but knew the faster he could get Jonah to Vivienne, the better it would be for both of them.

“Miss… I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”

Martha was in such need to relinquish some of her responsibility to someone, she immediately answered, “Martha Simms.”

George could see how desperate she was for help.

“Miss. Simms, my name is George Franklin and my motor car is a short distance away. I am willing to take you directly to the hospital, if that is needed, but if a warm bath and a clean bed would be more welcome, they are both available for you at our home. I think it would be best if Jonah stays with you until he is reunited with his mother.”

Martha agreed. Since none of them were physically injured, she felt a bath and warm bed would do all three of them wonders.

#

Polly brought Vivienne to the parlor where they could wait together for George and Zeke to return. They heard the motor car pull to a stop in front of the house. Vivienne was frozen, unable to convince her legs to move. Polly slowly walked to the door, praying George and Zeke were not the only people to step through it. She opened the door to a bedraggled woman holding two little boys. She steered them towards the parlor.

The instant Jonah saw Vivienne, he cried out, “Mummy!”

Jonah’s cry broke through Vivienne’s paralysis. She flew to him, wrapping her arms around him and his elephant. She cried and kissed him, brushing the hair out of his face so she could see him more clearly. Emma escorted Martha and Geoffrey up the stairs for the promised bath and warm bed. As Vivienne carried Jonah to her rooms, she looked back to thank Mr. Franklin and Zeke. Their stony faces and sorrowful eyes silently communicated to Vivienne that John was not among the survivors.

#

Martha and Geoffrey stayed at the Franklin’s for the next week, recuperating and making arrangements with the family she would be working for. The boys ran and played and got into mischief. They were the first to begin to recover. From time to time, a shadow would fall across Jonah’s eyes, and he would ask about his papa. Vivienne would explain that his papa was in heaven, looking down on him. The dark mood was only momentary, and Jonah would swiftly return to being happy and carefree.

Vivienne convinced Jonah his elephant had to have a bath. She unbuttoned the blanket to remove the monkeys. When she reached inside the hidden pocket her fingers griped and pulled out the handkerchief, slowly untying it she laid it open in her lap. Guardedly she picked up the picture and turned it over, reading the slightly smudged message John had written. She held the picture to her heart, allowing the falling tears to wash away a layer of grief. She pulled a silk black ribbon out of her glove box, to hang the thin gold band from. With shaking hands, she slipped it over her head, and tucked it inside her blouse, drawing comfort from the feel of the cool metal nestling between her breasts. Vivienne walked out into the garden, seeking the solitude of the wooden bench hidden in the far corner. She had steeled herself against her own pain to be strong for Jonah, but now she released that pain, acknowledging her broken heart. She understood she would have to permit herself to grieve, before she could begin to heal.

#

Martha and Geoffrey eventually moved to their new home. It was not as fine as the Franklin’s, but categorically qualified as a mansion. The nicest part was it was close enough for the boys to meet at the park several times a month. Martha’s charges were a five year old girl and an eight year old boy. Although they were quiet and well behaved, Martha and Vivienne agreed that Jonah and Geoffrey would soon change that!

Jonah had also gained two older “sisters.” Evie and Leah welcomed him as a true sibling and could not have loved him more if he had been born their brother. They were wonderful sitters for Jonah, any time Vivienne had errands to run. Once in a while Vivienne would catch a sadness flickering in Jonah’s eyes, but it was short lived, his ordeal all but forgotten.

As time passed, the emptiness inside Vivienne slowly began to fill with the joy Jonah brought to her, and the contentment of their new life in America. Day by day she took another step in feeling whole again. She could now recall sweet memories of John, appreciating the time they had shared together. She kept his ring around her neck, eternally grateful for the treasures Jonah’s elephant had safely delivered. She knew in her heart John was aware that their dream of raising Jonah in America had come true.

Imprint

Text: CJ Wells
Publication Date: 02-18-2013

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