Chardonnay too quickly, straightening, gasping, and coughing to the laughter of the whiskey drinkers.
“Never could drink, not even that girly stuff,” Thomas said, punching his friend in the arm.
“Look about you, boys… all these people without a clue they’re about to die soon.”
“Smith’s even delayed any distress calls going out from the wireless, hasn’t he?” Thomas said.
There were no answers to the questions swirling about the minds of the threesome. “Be damned if I’ll miss that dog,” muttered Ransom, garnering a laugh.
Thomas laughed. “You two haven’t enjoyed the best relations, now have you?” Ransom noticed that Declan was not laughing but rather staring at the huge clock on the wall at the other end of the dining room. “You two clowns do realize that it is April 14th and the clock reads 12:13—rather odd. Wonder why I no longer care about jotting another infernal note in that bloody journal of mine, but I do want the thing to survive beyond this night.”
“Slim chance of that.” Thomas sipped more gingerly now at his refreshed whiskey.
“Slim indeed, and this along with it.” Declan held up the enormous sabre tooth to the light.
“I see a cavity,” joked Thomas.
“We should raise a glass to all the men who’ve died and have yet to die thanks to that evil parasite,” suggested Ransom.
“And to our last night together,” added Thomas.
“I’ll drink to that,” said a stranger passing by, lifting his glass and thinking the others were toasting their last night of the voyage rather than everyone’s pending death. “To our last night on board
“Calm down, dog!” said Thomas, shooing him off as the drunken stranger dabbed at Declan with a napkin stamped RMS
Ransom returned to the boys and continued sipping his whiskey while Thomas cursed and said, “What a sot. You all right, Declan?”
“Fine… just a bit wet.”
Varmint had gone back to his ale, nearly kicked over by the stranger.
Declan drank more wine and grew more solemn.
Thomas joked, “Do you think we should place on life jackets? Water temperature is just under fifty degrees.”
Ransom glanced at him, shouted for a refill, and raised his glass to make another toast, “To us good fellas, all good-hearted men! The boys from Belfast.”
“Belfast for me,” corrected Declan, “but by way of Wales where I first met Tommie—and his family.”
“Aye, Belfast for you, Wales for this duffer,” added Thomas, pouring another round and raising his glass.
“So you’re a Welshman, Thomas,” commented Ransom after another drink.
“Yes, Wales for me,” said Thomas, pouring another round and raising his glass. “Where I leave a sister, a mother, and a father to grieve my lost soul, sure.”
“And a lovely girl Rachel is, too,” said Declan, glancing at a photo he’d snatched from a pocket. “A toast to your sister, Tommie, and may God bless her with a beautiful future and many children and a good man and to your parents as well, Tommie.”
“By way of Chicago,” added Ransom, almost missing the exchange of words about Declan’s sister but snatching the photo, he stared long and hard at a blonde-haired beautiful young woman. Declan took the photo back, tucking it away.
“Wish I could get word to Rachel somehow,” said Declan.
“You might’ve avoided all of this had you gone to her after her letter to you, you stubborn fool.”
“Who’s more stubborn than you? Insisting we come on this wild-goose chase.”
“Hold on! Wasn’t my idea but yours!”
“We tossed a coin, remember? Heads we go, tails we stay—and you called it.”
Thomas’s face grew sullen and anguished. “Hell and high water soon now!” He nervously laughed. “What’ll come of your son or daughter now, Declan, what with no father? What’ll come of Rachel?”
Declan’s anguish spilled over, his eyes filling with tears which he quickly wiped away.
“Hell and high water soon, and damn that officious captain,” brooded Thomas before downing another whiskey. “Had that stubborn old fool listened to us from the start, we might be writing another history here tonight, gentlemen.”
“Agreed,” returned Alastair. “We’re the three wise men among a ship of fools.”
“Not all fools,” countered Thomas. “There’s young Mr. Lightoller.”
“He’s one of them, same as the Captain. Wouldn’t listen,” muttered Ransom. “I mean when it might’ve done some good to listen.”
“I hardly see how this is Mr. Lightoller’s fault at all; I mean he at least read Declan’s journal, and he was first to come round.”
“A toast to Mr. Lightoller!” exclaimed Thomas. The trio was drinking to everyone and everything now, but Declan had slowed his intake of wine.
“We can hardly hold Captain Smith at fault either,” added Declan.
“If that silly man, and his officious officers, and that damned Dr. O’Laughlin had listened to us at the outset, Declan, we might’ve had a chance!” wailed Thomas again.
“All may not have been lost,” finished Alastair, head down, eyes focused on his shoes, which seemed to be whirling about thanks to the whiskey. “Still, wish I had new pair of shiny shoes to go out in. These are for shit!”
“Perhaps if you asked the captain nice,” joked Declan, smirking.
“He did look your shoe size,” finished Thomas, and the boys had a good laugh at Ransom’s expense.
After feigning hurt and saying he was much bigger than Smith, Ransom joined in the laughter.
“Frankly, I don’t care to ask Smith for a thing ever again. Perhaps I could win a new pair at cards, I mean before the ship descends.”
“Now there’s a gamble,” said Declan.
“Time’s been our enemy from the beginning, now hasn’t it, boys? Damned that Smith, and his officious fools like that Dr. O!”
“Alastair, come on!” Thomas leaned into the bar. “Who do you know could swallow a tale like the whopper we spouted? True or not!”
“Anyone here in this place would believe us in the blink of an eye.” Declan pointed about the room while draining his fourth drink. “Fantastic architecture in here, really. I mean look at the place… really look at it, Thomas.”
“I always imagined myself dying in a barroom in Chicago,” Alastair said in a grim tone. “Nothing so grand as this, boys!”
Suddenly from outside and high above the ship came a strangely persistent roar like the sound of a passing train. “What is happening?” was on everyone’s lips.
