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Michigan, maneuvered instead into
place between our capsized ship and the wharf. The tug set
planks in place on each side of her deck, creating a bridge from
our hull to the tug, and from the Kenosha to the wharf.
Yet even with the planks in place, no one around me moved.
Were they all too stunned to leave? Or were they like me, waiting
and hoping for a glimpse of a loved one?
My toes tingled. Was the hull vibrating?
I dropped down and pressed my hand against the white steel.
I’d been too busy watching the river to realize that passengers
had been trapped in the decks below. They were alive! People
had survived and were pounding on the hull for help.
Rescuers had arrived on the hull and were cautiously making
their way along the slimy surface toward us. These liberators
worked feverishly to pull trapped passengers through the portholes, but with the openings about a foot and a half in diameter,
only the most slender could slip through.
Could Mae make it through something that tight?
A few yards away, a head appeared through a porthole. It was
a girl about my age. Two men reached for her as she thrust up
her arms. But try as they might, they couldn’t ease her shoulders
through the opening. In the end, they had no other choice than
to lower her back into the ship.
“You can’t leave me here!” Her pitiful cries pierced the air.
“Help me! Please!”
But her two would-be rescuers could do nothing to help.
They both sagged to their knees and bawled.
They weren’t going to leave that girl in that flooded prison?
There had to be another way out!
What if Mae was down there? How would she get out?
Then, as if by some divine intervention, a mirage materialized through the rainy fog. I wiped my wet face and stared in
amazement as a team of welders approached. They were lighting
their torches, preparing to cut holes in the exposed hull, when a
familiar figure came storming at them.
“What’re you doing?” demanded the captain. “I won’t let you
destroy the integrity of my ship!”
“This boat,” a welder sniped, “is already compromised. It’s
capsized. Or haven’t you noticed?”
The captain waved a burly fist. “I’ll right her again. And when
I do, I don’t want any damage to my hull.”
The whole team of welders advanced on the captain. A policeman jumped into the fray.
“Now, gentlemen.” The cop stretched out his arms to hold
back the welders. “Let’s be civil and remember why you’re here.”
“Copper’s right,” one welder said. “Forget the captain.
There’s work to be done.” The welder lit his torch. The captain
charged at him.
Before the team could react, a woman on the dock shouted,
“Toss him overboard!”
“Drown him! Drown him!” echoed a chorus of spectators.
Had the captain injured his head in that fall when he’d attempted to escape? Was he delirious now or just plain deranged?
And why had he survived when so many others had not? Isn’t a
captain supposed to go down with his ship as the captain of the
Titanic had done?
The cop pulled out his handcuffs. “You’re under arrest.” He
secured the captain’s hands behind his back. “For your own
protection.”
Several other policemen rushed forward to assist, and together they escorted the captain off the Eastland and through
the angry mob on the dock.
I looked down at my delicate, golden watch. A gift from my
best friend. It was eight-thirty.
An hour had already passed? So where was Mae? Almost all
the survivors had been pulled from the water. All that was left
were shoes and deck chairs and lifeless bodies floating by on the
current.
No! Mae must have been rescued, only I didn’t see it happen.
Doctors had arrived on the dock and were checking unconscious victims for signs of life. One gray-haired doctor was
ministering to a toddler with a pulmotor, a frightening apparatus that looked more like a bicycle pump than a resuscitation
device. The doctor placed a mask over the boy’s nose and