Page 62 - Titanic: The Untold Tale of Gay Passengers and Crew

48 Jack Fritscher

lying in their teeth, assuring them they’d follow in the next
lifeboats. In my red ballgown, I rode on Molly’s arm with my
moustache buried in her fur collar. I spied among the elegant
men, searching for Edward.
On A Deck, Madeleine Astor’s dog, Kitty, ran barking
back and forth. From C Deck, the immigrant crowds in steer-
age raced up the stairs to first class, only to be trapped below
stairs by the locked iron gates. Titanic was sink ing fast into
the water. The decks tilted sharply. The electric lights burned
brightly. The band played. Flares hissed, flared, and burst
overhead. Crystal goblets and flutes and bowls slid from the
tables. The tables slid across the floors. Heavy machinery be-
low was booming, breaking loose, sliding backwards toward
the bow, pulling us down faster under its weight.
I noticed Molly carried an extra dress and coat and hat.
“Do you intend to change?” I asked, overcome with the sar-
casm of gallows humor. “Into something smart for a sink ing?”
“It’s for Edward.”
“We must find him.” My heart raced. My head spun.
My humor changed. Everyone at that moment was leaving
someone. Women, men, children. Separated. The seriousness
of the situation made us all quiet for a moment, internal,
listening to the cries of fate.
“We’ll find him,” Molly said.
Suddenly, the wild crowd pushed and shoved around us
pressing us clos er to portside Lifeboat 6 which was al ready
descending over the side. In an instant, strong arms lifted me
up into the air. It was Brice. “Come on, lady, here you go!”
“Brice,” I said. “It’s me.”
“You!” He almost dropped me.
“Jump with me, Brice.”
“It’s my duty to stay.”