Cast of the Die

The pedestrians blindly followed the paths laid out for them. Some of them did not notice the path, or consider that they could deviate from it, but merrily went their way. Some observed the path, and walked along with every obedience to it. Others seemed to dream of flirting with danger, veering either to the left and the ocean or the right and traffic. 

Twenty-five year old May, though, wasn’t walking. She stood on the side of the dock and gazed out over the shimmering Atlantic. One question would not leave her mind: could she escape her fate? Every night she remembered that prophecy of destiny, or rather, doom, that she’d experienced as a teenager. Within days of seeing it, she could not remember if it had been a dream, a vision, or a hollow memory. The ground dropped out beneath her feet as the boards under her slanted deeper and deeper, the whirlpool growing wider and wider, the abyss darker and darker. Vertigo obscured her mind and fog enveloped her memory. She could only wonder how long this would last. She did not know what it was, how it was, if she could escape from it. She screamed again and again, but the sound was lost in the void. Her panic was complete. She buried her face in her arms, refusing to watch as the monstrous crashes arched above her, swirled, and disappeared into the abyss. She could sense dark clouds bunching together overhead and water as cold as ice at her ankles. So it was a sinking ship. . . She was strangely glad to know before the darkness cloaked the darkness, and the sounds transformed into the busy street outside her room.

Now she stared at the ship she was about to board, and compared it with her fears. This ship was so big, so warm, so full of lights, so full of people, that she could barely imagine such things playing out aboard it. She asked herself, briefly doubting, why she was going to get onboard a ship at all, before supplying herself with the same reasons she had bought the third-class ticket: to start a new life in the land of America, and to test fate. She had told no-one of the second reason, being fairly certain it was not grounded in reality. Yet there was a sort of daring, a sort of wanting to peep in on celestial affairs, in her that she decided to risk the voyage.

Obviously, if people didn’t know their fate, they would fulfill it, like walking into a hole in the obscurity of night. But could a seen hole be avoided? Could a known fate be sidestepped? She thought about her favorite book, A Christmas Carol. Scrooge escaped his fate, but then, could it really be called a fate?

Not a moment too soon, it was boarding time, and she joined the third-class passengers in the bottom of the ship. Even though the surroundings were tiny and cramped, she knew she was far better off than on any other ship. 

She was put in a room with a little girl. This child warmed her heart and appealed to everything about her. She looked to be about five, and had two blond braids. She shied away from May at first, but finally began answering her questions.

“Hi little one. My name’s May. What’s yours?”

 “Estelle.”

Every day she brought a meal to Estelle, and every night she tucked her in and sang her a lullaby. The girl came to adore her.

One day, they were enacting Jonah and the whale beside the gate where the third-class passengers were barred from the rest of the ship. May, as the whale, was chasing Estelle, who giggled wildly. Suddenly she noticed the gate officer looking fixedly at the little girl. The gaze unnerved her, and she led Jonah away from the gate.

That night, Estelle said, “You’re fun to be around. Like an older sister. Do you have parents?”

The question startled her. “Not anymore. What about you?”

“Yeah, but they’re really poor. They’re sending me to live with my aunt and uncle, who’re in America. The land of dreams, right?”

She chuckled. “So they say. Who knows what it’s really like. I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Or you will. . .

Suddenly the prospect of sinking with the ship sent a pang through her heart. But she had already boarded, already cast the proverbial dice.

Estelle hugged her waist, then lay in her bed, which was more comfortable for her than for her larger companion. May kissed her goodnight, then read a chapter in the Bible before falling asleep as well.

The next day, Estelle meandered to the gate again, where the same officer was watching her just as attentively. May lost her patience and approached him.

“Do you know Estelle?”

He withdrew a step, abashed at being caught so blatantly. “Uh, no, sorry Miss.”

“Why do you keep watching her?”

He shifted to his other foot. “It’s just, she reminds me of my own daughter. She was about that old. . .”

May instantly realized she shouldn’t have mentioned it, and apologized.

The officer regained his composure. “It’s no problem, really. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. The other mates try to understand, but they just don’t. It’s kind of a personal thing, you know?”

“Grief? I know. And losing one person is completely different from losing another. Do you like seeing Estelle, or should I keep her away?”

“Oh no, no. Unless it makes her uncomfortable. I love watching her. It passes the time.”

“Maybe you should meet her. I’m sure she would like the company.”

He paused, but his eyes glowed. This prospect seemed to bring him a new life. “I would love to–but, I’m on duty.”

“Well, you can stay here after your shift is done, no? Then return, and we’ll wait for you.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Are you her sister, or mother?”

“No, I’m only related through love. Like you. But those are the best relationships, because they’re the truest, and everyone needs someone to love. We’ll be here for you!” She left with a smile, and waved at him. Had she turned around again she would have seen those shining eyes foggy with tears, for her sincerity had moved him with surprise.

That evening he returned to the gate, and, as promised, May and Estelle were waiting. As they walked up, May explained, “This is your new friend. He’s an officer here, and he wants to meet you, so don’t be shy. He’s really nice. Look, here he is.”

As he stood waiting, May noticed that this time he was inside the bars of the gate, not out of it like before. Estelle hunkered at her side, holding her hand too tightly. The officer bent down to her level and said a few words to her. At last she released May’s hand to shake his. He beamed, and stood up again. “Thank you so much, both of you. You have no idea how much this means to me. I was devastated after my daughter passed, and thought to work without pause on these ships to escape my mind. It didn’t work, because I saw her everywhere I was, only could never reach out and hold her and hear her again. Now I have. You have given me the chance for a farewell.”

“No need for a farewell,” May countered. “There are a few more days of the journey yet, and we can come every day. Why couldn’t you even accompany Estelle to her aunt and uncle’s place?”

He nodded. “Yes, I will come back here. If only this ride did not end so soon, and more ships await my services.”

Estelle waved at the officer as they walked back to their room. He smiled and waved back.

That night, a jolt roused May from her unusually thick slumber, and, groggy, she went into the hall to find out what was happening. Water was pouring in from the end of the hall. The panic she had lived a thousand times in her vision resurfaced, as she realized that she could not, after all, escape the hole she had seen in advance. But there was something she could do.

She returned to her chamber and lifted Estelle out of the bed. “What’s going on?” the child protested.

“We’ve got to get out of here. The ship is flooding.”

 Still carrying Estelle, she ran out of the room and down the hall, away from the water. Suddenly she remembered one thing: she was lost. She had no clue how to get out, for she had only come down here when boarding. The halls presented a labyrinth that even Theseus would have been hard-pressed to worm his way out of. She ran back the only way she knew: the officer’s gate. A different officer was there, and he was not opening it despite the tumult of the gathering crowd demanding it be opened. She realized she didn’t know the previous officer’s name, so couldn't call for him. 

The gate fluctuated with the pressing of so many people, and the guard withdrew as it creaked, bowed, and collapsed. The third-class passengers were now free, but they were no less lost than before they’d burst through the gate. The water was already reaching them, even up here, and the ground beginning to slant. Estelle clung fast to May, who struggled to wade through the knee-deep swamp. 

She continued to plow through the water, until she finally crashed into the officer she knew. He was running in the direction of their gate, determined to rescue the effigy of his daughter. May thrust Estelle into his arms.

“Are you following?” he asked.

“I’m coming.”

But the fact that other people might be still asleep, and not wake up until they couldn’t even open their doors, while she was safe on a lifeboat was too much. And the Titanic didn’t have enough lifeboats for everyone, so what right did she have to take a seat on one? After all, it was her desire to tempt fate that brought her here, while others had legitimate reasons and families waiting for them. She turned to the nearest door and banged on it. She was answered by a sleepy moan of protest, before the man inside came to the door in pajamas. All the rest of the doors she knocked on went likewise. Then, when she could only swim to get around, she clambered to the deck.

May stood beneath the night sky, gazing at the stars as everything fell around her. The ground dropped out beneath her feet as the boards under her slanted deeper and deeper, the whirlpool growing wider and wider, the abyss darker and darker. It was with all her effort that she remained holding the vertical railing, still amid the chaos, serene amid the roar, like a statue of Peace outlasting time itself. She had changed the one aspect of her fate that mattered, her satisfaction and peace, and it brought her joy. The joy did not desert her as the deck gave way to ocean and the tomb of ice wrapped around her.