Here is one of our September Short Stories, sent into us from Lucy via Tumblr (ours-isthefury). We very much enjoyed your story, Lucy; here it is for the rest of you to read!
It is a split second decision, and before he knows it, he’s made the wrong one.
He could have stayed with everyone else and shared their fate. But instead he chooses to get onto the lifeboat and sail away from it all. As his foot touches the wooden floor of the lifeboat he knows he has made the wrong decision, but it’s too late to go back now, and before he knows it someone is pushing him to sit down and the boat starts to lower.
At first the occupants of the boat are too distraught and scared to notice the first-class man who sits amongst them, and they sob into the hankies and hug their children, calling back up at the boat. Some even fight to get off of the lifeboat and to get back onto the ship. Joseph’s heart wills his legs to move and do the same in the vain hope that he would not be seen as a coward, but his head tells him to stay put and stay silent. So he does.
He keeps his head down, his eyes focus on the water that splatters his brand new leather shoes. He cannot help but think that they are ruined. Revulsion at that thought makes him lift his eyes to where they departed from. The lights on the ship flicker almost poetically, flashing against the midnight sky. He can still hear the cries of those less fortunate than him who remain on the ship, and it makes him feel queasy. But not guilty.
For the entirety of the journey the other passengers do not notice the misplaced man in the midst of women. They just mourn for the lost. Some pray to God that he should deliver those left back to them. They pray that there is enough lifeboats to save their loved ones.
Joseph knows there is not, but he does not speak out. Keeping quiet seems the more sensible option. Soon the sobs and cries turn to silence and only the lapping of the water and grunt of the rowers can be heard. It is not the peaceful kind of silence that allows for calm thoughts and serenity, but rather a deafening silence, so overwhelming that Joseph just wants to jump from his seat and scream at the heavens. The hours pass as hours do, neither fast nor slow, just filled with more unanswered prayers. A ship comes into view when the sun is still sleeping, but the light of the windows give it away. For a brief passing moment Joseph thinks that it is the Titanic with its large hull and impressive stature. He knows he is wrong when he spots the gleaming word ‘CARPATHIA’ upon its hull. No one makes a noise to notify the ship. They already seem to know that they are there.
It is harder to go unnoticed as they board the rescue ship. Everyone seems to know who he is and the accusing eyes follow him everywhere. He does not stop to talk to the survivors, they hold no words of comfort, but heads straight to a high-rank officer, who directs him to the ship doctor’s quarters. He notes that the finery on his ship was far more appealing to the eye, and rich looking. The fabrics are the cheap version of what he used, and the rooms are most certainly smaller. He wants to make a comment about it, then he remembers that it doesn’t matter because his ship will be close to the bottom of the ocean by now.
He permits only one visitor whilst he is aboard the Carpathia, and does not leave the room. He would like to say that it was shame that kept him in his room, but he knows that isn’t true. He just doesn’t have the taste for social company at the present climate.
He plans to be fast off the ship and sail again straight away, avoiding the enquiries that will no doubt follow. He has nothing to hide, he just has nothing to say. However, he forgets that he is not invisible, and is spotted leaving, forcing him to be led to the questioning.
He is asked to defend his actions of leaving his ship whilst other men, women and children were served a watery grave. He says that it was an accident, by the time he was in the lifeboat it was too late to get out. He claims he wanted to go back to help, but there was no possible way. He says that he wishes it was him that was lying dead at the bottom of the ocean, in the place of another.
But it is a lie. He does not wish to be dead. It goes against every basic survival instinct, and no matter how hard he tries, he cannot ignore nature. He can tell that they don’t believe him either. Their raised eyebrows and bored expressions show that all too clearly.
When he is allowed to leave and go home they mock him in the streets, point fingers and call him names. J. Brute Ismay they call him. The wife who is cheating on her husband points the finger, sneering harsh words. The father who beats his children on a daily basis refuses to serve him a drink in the pub.
He looks at the people who call him names and condemn him for his actions, and wonders what they would have done in his situation. Mostly he concludes that they would have done the same as him, and chosen life over death. Some would have felt guilty about it, but most of them would not have.
He wonders what people would have thought of him if he had stayed aboard the ship and sunk with it? Would people remember his name, and instead of sneer at it, raise their glasses to it? These are the thoughts that plague him at night, but what is more disturbing is the answer that his mind comes to. He would rather have people sneer at him, than have them raise their glass to a dead person.
Have you sent us in you story yet? If not, then click here to do so now – more stories to follow!
The Book Republic Blog 