Part 18 (2/2)
The crewman blanched. ”Yes, sir, Mr. Astor.”
He scuttled off and Charley shoved me into the suite. I stumbled against one of the Louis Quinze chairs, nearly toppling it. I shot the burly crewman a hateful glare and stood up.
”That'll be enough, Charley,” Harlan said, shutting the door and advancing into the suite. Gone was the bounce in his step. He crossed the floor in slow motion, as if his joints were in excruciating pain. How, I wondered, could a man who looked so healthy a few days before have declined so alarmingly? Unless his appearance was merely that. Artifice covering something grave, something dark and all-consuming.
”Why, Harlan?” I said, finally finding my voice.
”I think you know, Trev.”
He eased himself into one of the chairs, his expression twisting into a grimace.
”Pretend I don't. Spell it out for me.”
”Why? Do you think I owe you an explanation?”
I advanced on him, my eyes blazing.
”h.e.l.l, yes! You're the one who wanted me on this G.o.dforsaken tub. Yes, you owe me!”
Charley, who'd taken up a station in front of the door, moved toward me menacingly. Harlan waved him back with a weak flip of his hand. The big man appeared edgy, and I was sincerely grateful he was not armed with anything more than his bare hands, though those ham-sized appendages looked as if they could well be deadly if required.
”I'm dying, kiddo,” Harlan said, staring at the floor. ”Liver cancer. At least that's where it started. Can you believe it? And it seems like only yesterday we were kids having keg parties at the frat house.”
Had he told me this at any other time, I would have been rocked to the core, stunned beyond belief. Now, in light of what I'd seen down in the Number One hold, it barely mattered, and came as no surprise. The signs had been there all along from that time back in the Harvard Club. I'd simply chosen to ignore the obvious.
”What about the timer?”
He looked up at me then, his eyes welling with tears. ”It's an explosive device, as I'm sure you surmised, old friend. Each wire is connected to an explosive rivet. When they detonate, the hull will open to the sea and-”
”The t.i.tanic will founder, breaking in half and sinking in two and half hours.”
Harlan nodded, his eyes closed.
For a brief instant I was rendered mute by the enormity of his ego.
And then I exploded, grabbing him by the collar of his dressing gown and shaking him. ”How can you do this! Just because you and a few others on this s.h.i.+p are dying, you're going to kill them all?”
Charley pulled me off of him with terrifying ease, once again making me feel as if I were a plaything. Harlan collapsed back into his chair, his breathing ragged. He pulled a pillbox from out of his dressing gown, opened it and popped a tiny white pill into his mouth. He then grabbed for a water gla.s.s on the table next to his chair, both hands shaking as he brought it to his lips and took a swallow. Sighing, he replaced the gla.s.s on the table and regarded me with hooded eyes.
”I could have Charley break you in half for that.”
”Go ahead.”
A thin smile twisted his lips. ”You always were the melodramatic type, kiddo. That's why I wanted you along, to tell our story the way it should be told-from the heart.”
”And what story is that? Harlan's Grand Guignol? Come one, come all?”
”I wanted death with dignity, G.o.dd.a.m.n it! Not rotting away in some f.u.c.king hospital room smelling my own p.i.s.s and s.h.i.+t!”
”What about all those lofty words about this s.h.i.+p being a symbol for a 'rebirth of spirit?' Is that all it was? Just so much bulls.h.i.+t?”
Harlan remained silent, his expression stony.
”All right. So, you want to go down with your s.h.i.+p. That's just grand. What about the others? What about what they want?”
”You make it sound so selfish,” Harlan said, the hurt evident in his voice. He turned to the burly crewman. ”Why don't you tell my friend what you want, Charley.”
The big man turned toward me, his face losing all its menace.
”You wouldn't know it to look at me, but I've been fighting the big 'C' for years. Last checkup the doc said I had maybe five months. I had nothin' left to me name. No family, no money, nothin'. The Guv'nor, here, gave me the chance to go out with me dignity in a way that would mean something.” Tears welled in the big man's eyes, and he used the back of a hand to wipe them away. ”This old tub was something I'd loved since I was a kid. Ever since I seen that movie....”
”You see, Trev?” Harlan said, interrupting when it became clear that Charley couldn't go on. ”Except for the dozen who changed their minds and left on Mayor Donahue's launch, it's the same for all of them, or didn't you get that sense when you interviewed them?”
He was right.
Though none of the people I'd interviewed had voiced it, I could tell they were serene-all their troubles behind them. For them, the t.i.tanic was a symbol not only for an end, but also a beginning.
Then again, I couldn't help wondering about the shy dentist from Joliet I'd interviewed early on the second day. He'd seemed torn and conflicted, and had stuttered throughout the entire interview. I hadn't seen him since Cobh. Could he have been among those who'd left the s.h.i.+p? If so, I wished him well. I nodded my head, feeling ineffably sad, yet accepting my friend's wishes. ”When am I leaving the s.h.i.+p?”
”You have until tomorrow at sundown,” he said.
”Don't you want me to be here for the-”
”No....” he said, shaking his head. ”I don't want to risk anything happening to you if things go wrong. I've prepared one of the lifeboats for you, number nine, I think. You'll have food and water for five days. And there's a satellite phone, as well. But I want your word you won't use it until dawn on the fifteenth. Do I have it?”
I stared back at him, wanting to say no with all of my heart, but his eyes demanded a different answer.
”Yes,” I said, finally.
”I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about this at the beginning. I didn't want you talking me out of it.”
”It's too bad you couldn't trust me, Harlan. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to tell Maddy, that is if I can find her.”
Harlan hesitated, then shook his head. ”She won't be going with you, Trev....”
”Don't you think that's her decision?”
”Yes, and she's already made it.”
I felt as if the world were tilting beneath my feet, a part of me denying what the rest of me knew.
”What are you talking about?”
”My G.o.d, she didn't tell you,” he said, his eyes widening. ”She's dying, too, Trev. Just like the rest of us-just like everyone aboard this s.h.i.+p. Except you. You're the only one with a life expectancy over six months.”
”G.o.dd.a.m.n YOU!” I s.n.a.t.c.hed up a bottle of Chivas sitting on a nearby table and hurled it at the wall. He barely reacted when it sailed past him, missing by inches, and shattered on the mahogany paneling.
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