Three Fates Read Free Page B

rest. Your life’s a miracle, for there are more than a thousand dead.”
    “A . . .” He managed to grip her wrist as the horror stabbed through him. “A thousand? ”
    “More than. You’re in Queenstown now, and as well as you can be.” She tilted her head. “An American, are you?”
    Close enough, he decided, as he hadn’t seen the shores of his native England in more than twelve years. “Yes. I need—”
    “Tea,” she interrupted. “And broth.” She moved to the door to shout: “Ma! He’s waked and seems to want to stay that way.” She glanced back. “I’ll be back with something warm in a minute.”
    “Please. Who are you?”
    “Me?” She smiled again, wonderfully sunny. “I’d be Meg. Meg O’Reiley, and you’re in the home of my parents, Pat and Mary O’Reiley, where you’re welcome until you’re mended. And your name, sir?”
    “Greenfield. Felix Greenfield.”
    “God bless you, Mr. Greenfield.”
    “Wait . . . there was a woman, and a little boy. Cunningham.”
    Pity moved over her face. “They’re listing names. I’ll check on them for you when I’m able. Now you rest, and we’ll get you some tea.”
    When she went out, he turned his face toward the window, toward the sun. And saw, sitting on the table under it, the money that had been in his pocket, the garnet earbobs. And the bright silver glint of the little statue.
    Felix laughed until he cried.
     
     
    HE LEARNED THE O’Reileys made their living from the sea. Pat and his two sons had been part of the rescue effort. He met them all, and her younger sister as well. For the first day he was unable to keep any of them straight in his mind. But for Meg herself.
    He clung to her company as he’d clung to the plank, to keep from sliding into the dark again.
    “Tell me what you know,” he begged her.
    “It’ll be hard for you to hear it. It’s hard to speak it.” She moved to his window, looked out at the village where she’d lived all of her eighteen years. Survivors such as Felix were being tended to in hotel rooms, in the homes of neighbors. And the dead, God rest them, were laid in temporary morgues. Some would be buried, some would be sent home. Others would forever be in the grave of the sea.
    “When I heard of it,” she began, “I almost didn’t believe it. How could such a thing be? There were trawlers out, and they went directly to try to rescue survivors. More boats set out from here. Most were too late to do more than bring back the dead. Oh sweet God, I saw myself some of the people as they made land. Women and babies, men barely able to walk and half naked. Some cried, and others just stared. Like you do when you’re lost. They say the liner went down in less than twenty minutes. Can that be?”
    “I don’t know,” Felix murmured, and shut his eyes.
    She glanced back at him and hoped he was strong enough for the rest. “More have died since coming here. Exposure and injuries too grievous to heal. Some spent hours in the water. The lists change so quick. I can’t think what terror of heart families are living with, waiting to know. Or what grief those who know their loved ones are lost in this horrible way are feeling. You said there was no one waiting for word of you.”
    “No. No one.”
    She went to him. She’d tended his hurts, suffered with him during the horrors of his delirium. It had been only three days since he’d been brought into her care, but for both of them, it was a lifetime.
    “There’s no shame in staying here,” she said quietly. “No shame in not going to the funeral today. You’re far from well yet.”
    “I need to go.” He looked down at his borrowed clothes. In them he felt scrawny and fragile. And alive.
     
     
    THE QUIET WAS almost unearthly. Every shop and store in Queenstown was closed for the day. No children raced along the streets, no neighbors stopped to chat or gossip. Over the silence came the hollow sound of church bells from St. Colman’s on the hill, and