Once We Were (7 page)

“
Ioan,” he cried. “What's the matter? What is it?”

“
I need to speak to Cora!” Ioan declared.

“
What for? What's that bag all about?”

“
I'm leaving town, Mr. Harlow. No one's going to stop me this time. Don't tell anyone, especially my father. He won't understand. I can't stay in America. But I have to see Cora. Please. I don't have much time.”

“
Has no one told you, dear boy?” Mr. Harlow asked quietly. “Cora isn't here.”

“
Where has she gone to?” Ioan questioned.

“
Your father didn't mention anything?” Mr. Harlow gazed regretfully at the downhearted  boy. “She's gone away to school. She won't be coming back.”

“
She's gone to school?”

“
Yes, boarding school. She is nearly thirteen. It is high time.”

“
She never told me,” Ioan said. “She never said goodbye.”

“
She didn't want to make the separation difficult for you. She figured it was better this way.”

“
Right,” Ioan nodded, trying to hide how hurt he was. “I guess I'll be on my way then.”

“
Where will you go, young Mr. Saier?”

“
I don't know, sir. Stow away on a ship. Sail back to Wales to make my living on the seas.”

“
An old colleague of mine stays in Liverpool. He's an instructor, last I heard. A man by the name of Edward Wyatt. When you find him, tell him I sent you. He should know what to do from there.”

“
Thank you, sir,” Ioan told him. “I should go though.”

“
Of course. Wind speed, Mr. Saier. Good luck to you.”

“
And to you, sir,” Ioan said, grabbing his pack and hurrying back out into the relentless rain.

“
God watch over that boy,” Mr. Harlow whispered. He shut the door against the storm.

Chapter 3

“I love you.” It was whispered so faintly Ioan swore he imagined it. He had such strange dreams lately. He didn't know what was real anymore. He knew he was in a hospital. A gentleman told him so. He doubted he even heard that right. It did feel like a hospital. Numb, cold, white, and sterile. He always felt dizzy. Sometimes he got up and floated around the room. It felt very peculiar, like the sensation one gets when eating too many bad mushrooms. He decided to ask the doctor for a lighter dosage before he fried his wit.

He spotted the physician in the hall and pulled his feet forward. His legs fell asleep. The pestering fuzzy sensation refused to go away. “Doctor,” he called. His voice sounded curiously distant. “You think I could come off this stuff now? It's driving me loopy.” The doctor froze. His eyes turned to Ioan. “If it isn't too much trouble,” Ioan added politely.

“Nurse!” the doctor shouted. He brushed right pass Ioan and charged for his room. The head nurse waddled after him. Ioan dragged himself back to see what the fuss was about. He was dumbfound when he saw his body still laying in bed. He  examined his hands and feet to make sure he was himself.

The doctor frantically searched Ioan's chest. He pressed two fingers to his neck and wrist. “I can't find his pulse!” the doctor cried. Ioan watched his body turn to stone. He stepped forward, but the floaty feeling turned to weights. He couldn't move. The room was so bright now. The nurse must have turned all the lamps on.

It gave him a headache. He felt like running. He wanted to leave the hospital and never come back.

A young woman ran in from the hall. She was breathless by the time she reached his bedside. A soft, floral, sugary scent filled the room. Heaven and all good feelings chased away the sterile air. Ioan recognized the perfume immediately. “Cora,” he whispered. He forgot all about leaving the hospital.

“Doctor, what is it? What's gone wrong?” she cried.

“
I'm sorry, Miss Harlow,” the doctor shook his head regretfully. “His heart's stopped. We've lost him.”

“
No, you haven't! Ioan, please, wake up!” Cora begged, wrapping her arms around him. “Please don't go again! You were so strong before.”

“
I'm right here,” Ioan said puzzled. “Cora, I'm right here! I haven't left!” She  didn't hear him. She pleaded him to stay. Ioan felt horrible hearing her cry. She should never have to cry. “Cora, I'm here,” he said. “Please stop crying.”

She'd never hear him. Ioan knew he had to reach her. Somehow he had to get back to his body and let her know he was alright. If he could only get his feet to move properly. He managed to get one foot forward and took a short break to gather his strength. He dragged his other foot forward, and realized that the more he did it, the easier it became. He was at the bedside now and watched Cora sob over him. “Darling, I'm right here,” he comforted her. “Look at me.”

He glanced down at his face. It was indeed the face of a dead man. “I'm not dead,” he said. “I'm still here.” He waved his hand over his closed eyes. “I'm
not
dead!”

He snapped his fingers, but he didn't come to. He got angry. He mastered every last ounce of strength and sent a fist straight into his jaw. “Listen to me, you bastard! Wake up!” The bright lights shorted, shooting out sparks like firecrackers. Ioan ducked and covered his head. The light faded out.

“
I love you.” The whisper came again. Soft, faint, almost inaudible against the dying firecrackers. “What the devil?” Ioan's head spun wildly. He shut his eyes to make it all stop, but when he opened them again, he was standing at the foot of his bed. A white blanket lay neatly over his body. His face still looked like a tombstone. He turned around to see the doctor sleeping in a chair. Cora rested her head at his bedside. He glanced between her, the doctor, and his body in bewilderment. “Can someone please tell me what's going on?” he questioned.

Cora woke with a start. Her hand swept over his cheek and forehead. “Doctor! Doctor wake up!” The doctor jolted awake and bolted pass Ioan to his bedside. “It's happening again!” Cora cried. The doctor started his procedure. Cora was frantic. “Doctor, do something!”

“His heart is stopped again. I will have to inject it or administer shock therapy,” the doctor cried, running from the room.

“
Wait!” Ioan called after him, but it was no use.

“
Ioan!” Cora pleaded, cradling his hand against her.

“
Stay strong! Stay with us!”

Ioan was fed up. “I am standing right here! I don't know how many times-”

“Nurse, I'll need that needle immediately!”

“
I'm trying doctor!”

“
Forget it! I've a dying man on my hands! Bring in the shock apparatus!”

“
Doctor, we're not allowed to operate it! It's not medically secure! You'll kill him!”

“
He's dead anyway.”

The nurse wheeled in the d
efibrillator. “What are you doing?” Ioan demanded. “There's no need for experiments! That's
my
body laying on that bed! Put that thing back!
”

“
On three,” the doctor said. “One...two...”

“
Put that down! I'm alive, I say! I do not consent to this!”

“
Three!”

“
No!”

The lights exploded again. Ioan dived to the floor as fire rained around him. “Christ!” he cursed under his breath. The room faded to dark again.

“
I love you.” The whisper came gently, but this time it was beside him. He heard it clearly. “No,” he whispered weakly, fearing what disasters would follow.

“
Please don't start that again.” He braced himself, but to his surprise, he was still in bed. The dizziness still rocked his head, but thankfully, he stayed put. He felt warm, an odd fuzzy kind of warm. He liked it. No need to ask the doctor to change his medication again.
He must be at peace now.

Then he felt a soft, slender hand slip into his and lock his fingers. The voice whispered, and he recognized the words as prayer. It was her voice. It was Cora's. He smiled, or at least thought he smiled. He got lost in the softness of her voice. Dead or alive, he didn't care. She was here with him, and that's the world he wanted to be in.

So many times he felt her there. She must have thought he was asleep because she gazed at him so tenderly. A few times during the cold nights, he'd shiver under his blankets or sweat like he'd run miles with a fever. His recovery was painfully unpredictable. It troubled her trembling heart. She'd drape a cool rag over his head and caress his hair gently. “I love you,” she whispered, and Ioan's heart skipped to life again. She really meant it. He hadn't imagined it all.

When he couldn't respond, she'd stand and walk to the window with her handkerchief. The fever was hell, making it nearly impossible to recollect or think, but  her presence warmed and guided him away from that thin line which separates life and death. He startled out of mad dreams whenever she left his side. He hated her absence so much that he boldly promised himself if he ever pulled through this, it would be the first thing he fixed.

He was so powerless to stop her from leaving, even just for a moment. It frustrated him. Usually, she stayed away at most an hour, but today she hadn't come back for at least three. He wasn't sure how long he'd been trapped here.  He felt  lonely, like watching a flame die in a hearth. It was a feeling he would've gladly traded for death a few days ago.

Suddenly, the door opened again and that sweet flowery scent filled the room. She finally returned. She crept pass him, careful not to disturb his sleep, and sat at a small table in the room. The vigorous scratching of a fountain pen opened his eyes.

“Your father again?” Ioan asked quietly.

Cora smiled at him. “You should be resting.”

“I am,” he answered, but couldn't help his curiosity. “No doubt he's worried about you.”

“
He doesn't understand why I'm still in New York. He's begged me to come home since we left the Carpathia.”

“
Have you told him about me?”

“
A little,” she admitted. “I told him I'm looking after a friend and will be home shortly.”

“
I see,” Ioan replied, but really he was crushed. What had he expected? The outcome would have been the same if Titanic had made port. Cora would return to her life and Ioan would resume his at sea. Her obligation to her family and his desire to be freed from his past would tear them apart, no matter what happened on Titanic. All they shared had gone down with the ship. Reality is an iceberg no one can avoid. Cora must have known this. He admired her for that.

“
So you'll return to Massachusetts?” he asked.

“
As soon as the siege lets up,” Cora answered.

“
The siege?”

“
The hospital is in an uproar,” she explained. “A handful of passengers died in the hospital this week and their families are protesting in the streets.”

“
Well, I'm sure it has nothing to do with the staff. They've done all they can.”

“
It's not the staff they're upset about,” she answered quietly.

“
What is it then?”

“
They're upset with White Star Line,” she said. “They blame the company and its crew for those that are lost.”

“
That's rubbish!” Ioan declared. “As if we aimed the ship for the first iceberg we found and poured a shot of brandy.”

“
I should have never told you. Forgive me. Please, don't get worked up about this. You're in no condition for that,” Cora told him. “Every tragedy has its dark side. I'm sure the nonsense will fade away in time. Please don't worry about it.”

“
I don't care about them right now,” Ioan said. “I never asked if
you
were alright?”

“
I'm fine,” Cora told him. “I can't thank you enough. I figured the least I could do was stay here and make sure they didn't give up on you, but it will never be enough.”

“
It's more than you imagine,” Ioan said quietly. “And Beatrice?”

Cora shook her head regretfully. “We're still looking for her.”

A knock sounded at the door. “Mr. Saier, you're awake,” the doctor said. “You've improved. Definitely seeing a little color back in your face. Then again, you have this lovely lady attending to you. A man can't help but blush in her presence. If all goes well, I shall have you discharged in no time. Now, what did I come in here for? Oh yes! I have a visitor waiting in the hall for you, Mr. Saier. A Mr. Edward J. Spruce? He claimed to be an old friend. I have a strict policy about letting in strange persons with all that chaos going on outside, but he insisted.”

“
Send him in,” Ioan replied without enthusiasm.

“
Right away,” the doctor said. “Miss, if you will follow me. There is a matter in the visiting area which needs your attention.”

Mr. Spruce strolled into the room with hat and walking stick. He was a gentleman’s gentleman. Everything old Mr. Saier valued in high class, and everything young Mr. Saier wished to escape. “Master Ioan Saier. Have you learned your lesson?” he remarked. “Not many escape death with that grin on their face. Next time you won't be so lucky.”

“So you found me.”

“
As if it were that difficult,” Mr. Spruce answered, pulling back the curtains to glance at the protestors outside. “I thought you might need some companionship of the legal sort. I don't know what's gotten into the post lately. Your father has written you numerous letters. He never received a reply.”

“
I didn't write one.”

“
Pity. And what of my letters regarding the recent death of Mr. Saier?”

“
I don't think I wrote back either.”

“
And the ones explaining the transfer of his estates into your inheritance?”

“
I believe we've established that I don't respond to letters.”

“
A wise man would keep them safely stored.”

“
Oh, is that what he does with them?”

Mr. Spruce sighed. “Then you should have no problem disregarding this particular one. It's from the U.S. Senate Inquiry, commissioned by Senator William A. Smith, requesting that you share your experiences surrounding this disaster. However, considering the mania going on outside, I would recommend that you kindly reject their request and remain silent until the tensions have cooled. You don't need this kind of vexation.”

“I understand your concern, my most grand, kind, highly esteemed mate. The salt of the earth. A hell of a grand chap,” Ioan replied. Mr. Spruce rolled his eyes. “However, it is selfish on my part to reject them, if it helps the committee prevent something like this from happening again. No one should have to witness such disasters at sea.”