Titanic: April 1912 Read Free

on the stairs.
    â€œHow much farther?”
    Karolina stopped to let Aunt Rose catch her breath again. “The general room is right up there.” Karolina pointed at the landing above them. “I want to go outside.”
    â€œI think I will, too,” Aunt Rose agreed, stepping aside for a pregnant woman who was struggling upward carrying a wide-eyed toddler.
    After a few moments, Karolina began climbing again, threading her way through the constant stream of people. On the landing, she opened the heavy door that led into the third-class general room. The benches were lined with people. One family had brought a basket and had spread food out on brightly colored cloths on the floor.
    â€œWhere does that one go?” Aunt Rose said, pointing at a second door.
    Karolina shook her head. “I don’t know.” She crossed the landing and opened the door. Through a haze of bluish smoke, Karolina saw men grouped around long tables. A white-haired man smoking a long-stemmed pipe frowned at them, making a shooing motion with his hand.
    Karolina stepped back. “How can they stand it?”
    Aunt Rose shook her head. “Tobacco smoke makes it impossible for me to breathe.” She coughed a little, and Karolina shut the door.
    â€œExcuse . . . please,” a man said, startling Karolina into turning around. He pulled a thick cigar from his pocket and waved it back and forth, obviously trusting pantomime more than his command of English. Karolina stepped out of his way and saw Aunt Rose smile as the man went past them. “Handsome,” she whispered.
    Karolina shook her head. Aunt Rose thought most men under fifty were handsome, or nice, or sincere, or something that made them sound attractive.
    â€œCome on, now,” Karolina teased her. “He’s likely married and has four children.”
    â€œYou’re probably right,” Aunt Rose teased back. “And his wife is beautiful, intelligent, and twenty years younger than I am.”
    â€œYou’re not that old.” Karolina pushed open the doors that led out onto the third-class promenade. It was a small deck, open to the sky. A wave of fresh sea air washed over her. “I could make the whole trip up here.” She stood for a few seconds, blinking in the bright sunlight.
    Looking toward the bow of the ship, there were two or three decks rising above the promenade, each one a little smaller, like the layers of a wedding cake. There were narrow steps leading up to the first one. Karolina had taken them to get to the boat deck. She wondered if the boy who looked so seasick had gotten any better.
    Aunt Rose walked out from beneath the overhang that sheltered the doors. Karolina followed her onto the promenade. She turned in a slow circle, the wind lifting her hair. Aunt Rose was holding her hat on with one hand. “You’ll have to start braiding that mane of yours or you’ll never manage to comb out the tangles.”
    Karolina giggled. “You know what they call that?” She pointed toward the stern. “The poop deck.”
    Aunt Rose rolled her eyes. “You must be teasing.”
    Karolina shook her head, and they both laughed. “Look,” she said, pointing. An enormous wooden pole rose from one of the higher decks, slanting upward. It was anchored to the ship with heavy steel cables that glinted in the sun. On either side of it, huge white cargo hoists lay still like long-necked metallic birds. Each one rested on a white tripod of steel posts. “Do you know what it’s for?”
    Aunt Rose shook her head. “There are no sails, so it isn’t a mast or—”
    â€œCome back!”
    Karolina turned to see a dark-haired little boy running toward them. His head was thrown back and he was laughing, obviously delighted to be outside where there was enough room to play. His mother was still close to the stair landing, her arms full of a baby wrapped in blankets. She looked