Page 64 - Titanic: Forbidden Stories Hollywood Forgot

50 Jack Fritscher

“Brice,” I said. “It’s me.”
“You!” He almost dropped me.
“Jump with me, Brice.”
“It’s my duty to stay.”
“Fuck your duty. Save your life.”
“I’m crew,” he said solemnly. “You’re a passenger.”
“Don’t be stupid. ”
He smiled ruefully. “Promise me one thing.” He pulled
me close to him.
“Anything.”
Edward was not to be seen over Brice’s shoulder.
“Live for me.”
“Don’t be British, Brice.”
Disaster was upon us all.
“Live your life!”
Time slowed to a halt. Everything became deliberate,
meaningful, absurd.
Brice smiled and said quite calmly, as if we were
standing in a pub, “In New York. A new Turkish Bath.
Run by the Police and Firemen Benevolent Association.”
“Brice, we’re sinking!”
“Go there!”
“Climb into this boat, and I won’t have to make a
dona tion in your memory.”
“Rather!” He grinned like a sailor always expecting
this inevitable moment.
“What’s the place called?”
“The Everhard,” he said.
Before I could say, “I must find Edward,” Brice
dropped me five feet over the side into the descending
lifeboat. Molly, tossed over by Officer “Max” Maxwell,
landed on top of me, all but crushing me, save for the

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