【Titanic】True Love Lasts Forever

Episode3-set sail

When Titanic's three chimneys emitted thick black smoke and everyone still on the dock waved and shouted towards the deck, I was exhausted, hands on knees, completely devoid of the energy to run. The burning sensation with every breath was a torment to my lungs. In the final hour, I kept running tirelessly, my throat so hoarse that no sound could escape. Occasionally, passengers or well-wishers I bumped into would throw unfriendly remarks my way, but I was too drained to even utter an apology.

Never before had I seen so many people from the Edwardian era crowded together, resembling a beehive. Rental carriages and aristocrats' limousines were nearly colliding, while newspaper reporters with antique photography equipment focused intently on the unsinkable dream ship. Girls wearing wide-brimmed hats waved from the ship's deck, frozen in the midday sunlight, capturing the moment of this bustling and dreamy scene.

Like everyone else, I craned my neck, gazing at the white deck on the black hull, attempting to spot my loved ones. I suspected that Jack had already boarded. The loud blast of the ship's whistle announced the final moments before departure. The temperature was rising, and my thin clothes finally provided a touch of spring warmth against my emaciated body.

Well, it seemed this grand voyage was set to begin in the inexorable march of history. Let that damn Jack continue his magnificent love journey with Rose. I didn't care anymore. God knows I haven't eaten anything since yesterday noon, leaving that poor painter to encounter love, the same one I had tossed into the trash can. Knowing that it was the highest-grossing film in history, maintaining its top spot for twelve years without being surpassed, I couldn't help but curse the director.

I took a weary deep breath, intending to finally adjust the disordered rhythm of my breath, and then leave this noisy ocean dock. Just as I managed to stand straight, hands covering the emptiness of my stomach that faintly ached, ready to take the first step, a burst of excited cheers suddenly came from the noisy background behind me. "Fortune has finally smiled upon us. Now we're in the limelight."

God knows what expression I had when I heard this sentence. It felt like I could hear the lively Scottish tune leaping off the strings in a movie. Before I could even turn my head, Jack, carrying a sack, laughed heartily as he quickly ran past me. He shouted to another companion, "Hurry, buddy, we're going home." With no hat to conceal his short yellow hair, he ran through the air, his smile capable of illuminating the entire gray harbor.

Yeah, you're heading back home. If you plan on floating back on a wooden door...

My hands barely managed to grab onto the cheap gray overcoat he was wearing. My fingers, weakened and lacking strength, were harshly struck by the sack he carried behind him. The protagonist, eager to board the ship, paid no attention to someone calling him.

With a hoarse voice, I shouted a nearly inaudible "Jack," probably more times than the leading lady called his name. Jack, carrying his sack of luggage, raised one hand high, seemingly ready to embrace the wind. His disheveled hair fluttered backward, and this young man exuded such youthfulness and enthusiasm as he rushed towards the hoped-for destination, the massive Titanic waiting for him ahead.

Once again, I strained my voice to shout his name, "Jack Dawson..."

I believed would unless he had the hearing of a superhero, it would be impossible for him to hear my cries. He had plunged into the crowd, running so fast that it disturbed the horse carriages of others. I stood there, watching him distance himself in the bustling crowd, my hands hanging powerless in the air, once again feeling the malice of the goddess of fate. Alone in the midst of the bustling crowd, I looked up to see the seagull leaving the ship, soaring high toward the ocean. Suddenly, many thoughts came to mind—my first time watching a movie, Leonardo under the Pirates of the Caribbean poster in my room, and the widely circulated hit song.

I looked up at the sky, sighed helplessly, and then told myself this was the last time, the very last time. Let's give it all this one last time, considering that darn blanket so valuable, as it saved my life.

I continued to take deep breaths, suppressing the trembling muscles from excessive fatigue. Then, I suddenly lifted my foot, reaching down to yank off the shoes on my feet—a pair that didn't fit my size and had a slope. I saw bloodstains where my toes had been rubbed raw. I cursed silently at the wretched shoes and tossed them aside without hesitation. As my foot touched the ground, I instinctively jumped, and then, with the last burst of energy in my body, I lunged forward like a cannonball.

Calling out was no longer an option. I remembered that before he boarded, he would be stopped by crew members to check his ticket. Thanks to my numerous movie-watching experiences, I vividly recalled such details. I remembered how the stern-faced steward, donning a crew member's hat, would ask with folded arms and a hint of mistrust, "Have you been checked?" Of course, he couldn't have been checked, but that darn crew member still let him board.

Perhaps I could have grabbed him tightly around the waist before he boarded, shouting at the inspectors, "This guy has a contagious disease, don't let him on board." Well, Jack Dawson would have surely killed me; he'd press me into the water and let the Titanic roll over me. Quite a creative way to die, don't you think?

I swear I've never run so fast in my life. I ran continuously towards the Titanic. I didn't even need to think about the direction Jack was running; I just needed to head towards the sinking ship. The third-class entrance ticket was much easier to find than the first-class one.

At the last moment, squeezed among a crowd of people, I saw Jack and his companion rushing up the gangway, waving their tickets and shouting, "Hey, wait!"

As I struggled to pass a few people, they had already jumped through the door. It was too late. Even if we were just a gangway apart, I had no way of getting on board and pulling him back.

Game over.

The game ended abruptly.

My brain went blank for a moment. I stood there, staring in silence at the colossal cruise ship that was about to start. Everyone around me was waving, removing their hats, and shouting loudly. Perhaps destiny had already decided that there was nothing I could change.

"Wait, I'm a passenger!" A middle-aged man carrying a suitcase waved his ticket in hand, urgently pushing through the crowd. He shouted desperately, trying to force his way through, running up that white gangway.

His speed could probably catch up in the end. Unfortunately, he surely didn't know that once he got on, there was a 90% chance he wouldn't come back.

Finally, I withdrew my gaze and turned to see this English-impaired, perhaps Swedish or Italian, passenger whose ticket was on the verge of falling due to his enthusiastic waving. Then, I made the most unsuccessful decision of my life. I suddenly reached out, forcefully patting the shoulder of this middle-aged man, startling him to turn around. I raised my voice in the noisy background and greeted him, "Hi, you'll thank me for this."

As the words fell, my right fist had already shot out, hitting him hard. In his pitiful cry, my left hand skillfully snatched his ticket away. Next, I pulled out the expensive silver pocket watch from my own pocket, adorned with a chain that got entangled during my collision with the man. I was sure that the watch alone could buy a first-class ticket for the Titanic. I threw it onto him and turned to head towards the gangway.

Bless me! I saved a passenger's life and gained a watch that didn't belong to me. And now, I'm off to meet my doom. This is the unluckiest day of my life.

I leaped onto the gangway at the ticket checkpoint, feeling the icy pain in my bare feet. Holding the ticket in my hand, I sternly commanded the dockworker who was about to close the door, "Move aside."

Meanwhile, the ticket inspector standing inside, reaching out to close the door, shouted loudly, "Stop, ma'am, it's dangerous."

Did he just call me ma'am? In my tattered men's coat, wearing a worn-out pair of summer plaid capris, and running barefoot, the ticket inspector was surprisingly polite.

The gangway was almost a meter away from the cabin door, and below was the chilly seawater.

I stepped onto the very edge of the gangway, leaped up entirely, and before the door closed, I stumbled into the ship. The ticket inspector reached out, grabbing my arm to stabilize me.

I waved the third-class ticket in my hand and said to him, "Thanks."

The ticket inspector quickly turned back to close the cabin door. He was afraid another reckless passenger might fly in and meet their doom as the ship left the port. There were crew members sitting beside the cabin door, answering questions for the newly boarded passengers. I aimlessly thought of approaching them, but the stern steward who had just closed the door immediately turned around and asked, "Miss, have you passed the inspection?"

How much I wished to tell him that I carried countless cases of a highly contagious virus and to throw me back into the Southampton harbor, letting me fend for myself. Of course, the next second, I squeezed through the passengers and rushed down the gangway, paying no attention to anyone else.

Finally escaping from the troublesome ticket inspector, I didn't know where to go for a moment. Jack had already disappeared, and I shoved the ticket into my pocket. Following the surging passengers, I arrived at the expansive teakwood deck. Everywhere was crowded with people—over a thousand passengers, most gathering on the deck. The third-class passengers were the liveliest and craziest. They waved their hats, gripped the white railing, and shouted down to the sea of people on the dock, excitement and hope evident in their smiles.

I looked up and saw the first and second-class passengers also excitedly waving to the people outside the ship. The sky had completely cleared up, the rain and fog dispersed, and workers on the dock quickly loosened the thick mooring ropes and threw them into the sea.

The Titanic's propellers rumbled, stirring up mud and sand from the seabed, and the turbid seawater churned out. Tugboats towed the departing Titanic forward. The sound of the steam whistle echoed again, and the hydrodynamic forces generated by the moving ship made the remaining docked steamers sway continuously.

The wind messed up my hair as I walked to the railing, hands gripping it, watching the harbor disappear. The stars and stripes on the mast fluttered audibly, and the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor awaited its arrival.

The Titanic officially set sail.