Lissa's Collection of Poetry and Short Stories

And the Greatest of These

*A short story written for a homeschool competition. Historical fiction, Titanic.*

                It was so quiet. No storm, no fire. Only the sound of instruments and lapping water met the ears. But for a light breeze; as light a breeze as the great Atlantic would permit, the sea did not speak. It was as though she wished not to disturb this tragic hour of history.

Ten-year-old Anthony Patrick McConnell watched the breath blow from his nostrils and mouth like a kettle on the stove. He could not see it in the silver light of moon but by the lights on deck. For although the skies were clear, the moon, darkened by the shadow of the earth, did not shine.

Another distress flare shot from the top of the bridge.

Anthony looked out over the deck and beyond, to a formless mass of ice that gleamed as the rocket burst high above them and died out.

He wanted to be angry. He wanted something to blame for this terrible catastrophe. The crew, the captain, the White Star, Harland and Wolff... that iceberg.

"God Himself couldn't sink this ship," a deckhand had bragged as they boarded. It was meant to be assuring; but Anthony couldn't help wonder if those very words were the reason this ship, this grand ocean liner Titanic, was now slowly, surely, listing into the depths.

For his age the boy was very mature. He thought deeply on the things taking place.

Man often oversteps himself. Since that day when tongues were scattered at the tower of Babel, we have continued to make the mistake of thinking ourselves greater or equal to heights we can't even comprehend. Was this just another example of such folly? Just desserts for the arrogance revealed in the blessing of our prosperity?

Five days ago, when they boarded the beautiful vessel in Southampton with all of their possessions, Anthony had thought a luxurious city upon the water had been sent by heaven to take him away. Away, from Yorkshire, from England, from poverty and loneliness to a land of golden opportunity; where schooling and wealth were within the reach of any man who wished to start anew, working hard and keeping integrity.

"Anthony," a small, nervous voice beckoned to him. "Anthony I'm frightened."

"Yes, Marianne," He brought his arm around and hugged her. Perhaps it would bring some more warmth to them both.

Looking down lovingly to the only member of his family he had left, he did his best to console his little sister. "We all are. But see? The band is playing your favorite tune; and look there!" He bent down on one knee and pointed to the bandmaster. "I do believe, Mr. Hartley is smilin' right at you."

The five-year-old brunette stared, with big, beautiful brown eyes. She wore a meek little frock and a well-used wool coat. On her head was a hat; the color of autumn and adorned with wildflowers now beginning to wilt.

"Lifeboat eleven is full!" One of the crew members shouted so all could hear. "Women and children, you're boarding Collapsible D. Lifejackets, everyone, put on your jackets."

The crew broke open the last crate of lifejackets and began distributing them amongst the people in line. Capt. Smith too, lent a hand.

Things began to slide on deck. Chairs, tables, anything loose began sliding back. Everyone began to move a little faster.

"What's this?" The Captain came at last to Anthony and Marianne. Those before them, who had their jackets on were now boarding Collapsible D. "Little lady, are you alone?"

"No," She answered timidly. "I have my brother."

"I see. Am I to be honored with your name, lad?"

"McConnell. Anthony McConnell."

"Ah, and what a fine chaperon he is. Well Mr. McConnell; if I may speak with you confidentially, there is room for only one more." He said; quietly enough that Marianne did not hear.

Anthony's breath came faster.

The Captain held out the lifejacket for the boy to take. "Will you put this on your sister?"

Almost without knowing it, Anthony reached out his arm, and took it. "I will," He answered. "I will."

The man of the sea patted the boy on the shoulder, close to tears.

As the news broke out behind them that the lifeboat was full, Marianne asked what the Captain had said.

"He... told me," Anthony began, pulling the jacket through her outstretched arms. "That it is a man's job to guard his sister, or mother, or wife, or daughter, with anything he can, including his own life."

He clipped together the last clip and tightened the strings to fit her little body.

"Oh Anthony, you are coming with me, aren't you?" She cried with pleading eyes.

"Marianne, I'm afraid there is no more room on this boat. I may go in the other one, if we can get it turned over."

The lights on deck flickered off for a few seconds, but returned again.

"Everybody on! Get in the boat!" Came the urgent calls from the crew.

Anthony hurried his sister to her only chance of survival; forgetting his own safety he concentrating on hers. "Do you remember Aunt Bertha? She had a funny accent that made you laugh,"

"A little bit,"

"She will be waiting for us, at 20th Street, New York. Don't forget, her name is Bertha Fleming. Repeat her name to yourself."

"Yes, Anthony."

He picked her up and hugged her tightly. "Oh Marianne Louise, I love you."

She hugged him just as close. "I love you too, Anthony. Will I see you again?"

He smiled through his tears. "Yes. Yes we will see each other again. In a new land, wonderful beyond our dreams."

"Come on, miss," One of the crew took Marianne from his arms.

He lifted her over the side-rail of the ship and onto the lifeboat below.

They let loose the ropes and Anthony watched the oarsmen row it away, for as long as he could. When he could no longer see he returned to watching his breath. Such a simple thing it is, the air we breathe, and yet without it for even ten minutes we would parish.

The forward funnel of the massive vessel collapsed, and fell crashing down onto the bridge.

Titanic's lights at last went black. More and more the deck tilted and with the stress a deep groan, from within the entire ship, resounded.

People were crying now. Some were jumping off in hopes of catching one of several half-filled life boats. Others joined Hartley in singing hymns for the children still on board.

Anthony simply held to the rail and cried, silently. He started in surprise at feeling a hand on his shoulder.

"Forgive me for calling you a lad, my friend," the captains' voice cut through the darkness. "You're a man."

Minutes later, the great ship split in two. The bow disappeared into the abyss. The stern righted for a moment, then it too, sank to the floor of the waters Atlantic.

"And now these three remain; Faith, Hope, and Love. And the Greatest of these is Love."

Cor. 13:13