Read Online S.O.S. Titanic by Eve Bunting - Free Book Online
Authors: Eve Bunting
Tags: Historical fiction, Historical, Literature & Fiction, Children's Books, Action & Adventure, Survival Stories, Children's eBooks, Teen & Young Adult, Boys & Men, Growing Up & Facts of Life, Friendship; Social Skills & School Life, Cars; Trains & Things That Go, Boats & Ships
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all three of them, striding out strong and healthy.
They walked in silence, their footsteps silent, too, on the damp wooden planks of the deck. There was only the swish, swish of the sea below as the
Titanic
sliced through it, only the wind shearing the funnels, keening like a banshee.
So strange to think of the ship gliding on top of all that deep, dark water, moving in the glow of its own lights, spreading the wings of its own white foam. What did the fish think? Forty-five thousand tons of metal and wood, propellers the size of windmills, a rudder as big as a tree. How did this thing get into their ocean? If you flew above, though, looking down, she'd be no bigger in this immense ocean than a walnut shell in a wide lake.
The young couple had rounded the bow, and there was no one in sight. No one. Had Pegeen been here and gone? Or was it all a trick from the beginning?
Mr. Goldstein pointed up. "See the whiskers around the lights?" he asked.
Barry looked and saw little sparks of color dancing in the air above them.
"Those are splinters of ice caught in the deck lights," Mr. Goldstein said.
"Like bugs around porch lamps at home," Mrs. Goldstein said. "Shiver, shiver." She shook herself under her heavy coat, and the ear flaps on her cap jiggled like a dog's ears, but she was smiling, all white teeth and healthy, cold-whipped cheeks. "Wonderful, isn't it?"
They were nearing the bow themselves now, turning in the shelter of the wide glass panels that shielded them from the wind. The wireless aerials above swung and clicked against the tall mast, and way, way up, the White Star flag whipped and cracked against the brilliant sky.
When they rounded the turn to port side, the wind of the ship's making caught them again and they stopped to get their breath. Mrs. Goldstein wiped her eyes. "Oh, my. That will put a shine on your feathers."
And that was when Barry saw two figures at the rail and one standing back farther along the deck. They were here! All three of them! He'd known it all along.
And then he recognized the couple by the railing. He'd seen them last night, the woman in the pale fur coat; tonight, again, she turned her head away from them as they passed. But tonight she didn't turn it away fast enough, and Barry saw it was Mrs. Adair. He saw the crown of braided fawn-colored hair, the gleam of the pearls at her neck, the pearls that Scollins had admired earlier. Could the man possibly be Peter, little Jocelyn's father? The one Mrs. Adair had whacked on the head? But he was supposed to have been left behind, and these two had been kissing. Barry sensed it even if he hadn't seen it. Was this someone else?
No time to think about it now, though, because there was a girl in a long, dark coat standing farther along the deck. She stood well back, as if hoping for shadows, but there were no shadows to hide among. No one was with her. There was a door, though, the port twin of the one they'd come through earlier on the starboard side. Two fellows could hurl themselves through that and be on him in a minute.
Barry didn't even glance at her as they passed, though he knew it was Pegeen. Knew, too, that she saw him. She took a small step forward, then back.
When he and the Goldsteins were opposite the door he said, "Thanks for letting me walk with you. I think I've had enough now, and I'll go in."
"Really? Too bad. We're planning on another turn around." Mrs. Goldstein put a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Come walk with us any night. We're in Cabin Two B. Come see us anytime if you're lonely for your grandfather. We miss our two grandsons already. In fact, we're planning another trip to visit them."
Barry nodded. They were so nice. "Lucky grandchildren," he said. He glanced nervously at the swinging doors. If only he could ask the Goldsteins to come inside with him ... But how could he do that?
"Good-night, then," they called, moving on.
"Good-night."
He had his whistle between his lips even as they turned; had the
They walked in silence, their footsteps silent, too, on the damp wooden planks of the deck. There was only the swish, swish of the sea below as the
Titanic
sliced through it, only the wind shearing the funnels, keening like a banshee.
So strange to think of the ship gliding on top of all that deep, dark water, moving in the glow of its own lights, spreading the wings of its own white foam. What did the fish think? Forty-five thousand tons of metal and wood, propellers the size of windmills, a rudder as big as a tree. How did this thing get into their ocean? If you flew above, though, looking down, she'd be no bigger in this immense ocean than a walnut shell in a wide lake.
The young couple had rounded the bow, and there was no one in sight. No one. Had Pegeen been here and gone? Or was it all a trick from the beginning?
Mr. Goldstein pointed up. "See the whiskers around the lights?" he asked.
Barry looked and saw little sparks of color dancing in the air above them.
"Those are splinters of ice caught in the deck lights," Mr. Goldstein said.
"Like bugs around porch lamps at home," Mrs. Goldstein said. "Shiver, shiver." She shook herself under her heavy coat, and the ear flaps on her cap jiggled like a dog's ears, but she was smiling, all white teeth and healthy, cold-whipped cheeks. "Wonderful, isn't it?"
They were nearing the bow themselves now, turning in the shelter of the wide glass panels that shielded them from the wind. The wireless aerials above swung and clicked against the tall mast, and way, way up, the White Star flag whipped and cracked against the brilliant sky.
When they rounded the turn to port side, the wind of the ship's making caught them again and they stopped to get their breath. Mrs. Goldstein wiped her eyes. "Oh, my. That will put a shine on your feathers."
And that was when Barry saw two figures at the rail and one standing back farther along the deck. They were here! All three of them! He'd known it all along.
And then he recognized the couple by the railing. He'd seen them last night, the woman in the pale fur coat; tonight, again, she turned her head away from them as they passed. But tonight she didn't turn it away fast enough, and Barry saw it was Mrs. Adair. He saw the crown of braided fawn-colored hair, the gleam of the pearls at her neck, the pearls that Scollins had admired earlier. Could the man possibly be Peter, little Jocelyn's father? The one Mrs. Adair had whacked on the head? But he was supposed to have been left behind, and these two had been kissing. Barry sensed it even if he hadn't seen it. Was this someone else?
No time to think about it now, though, because there was a girl in a long, dark coat standing farther along the deck. She stood well back, as if hoping for shadows, but there were no shadows to hide among. No one was with her. There was a door, though, the port twin of the one they'd come through earlier on the starboard side. Two fellows could hurl themselves through that and be on him in a minute.
Barry didn't even glance at her as they passed, though he knew it was Pegeen. Knew, too, that she saw him. She took a small step forward, then back.
When he and the Goldsteins were opposite the door he said, "Thanks for letting me walk with you. I think I've had enough now, and I'll go in."
"Really? Too bad. We're planning on another turn around." Mrs. Goldstein put a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Come walk with us any night. We're in Cabin Two B. Come see us anytime if you're lonely for your grandfather. We miss our two grandsons already. In fact, we're planning another trip to visit them."
Barry nodded. They were so nice. "Lucky grandchildren," he said. He glanced nervously at the swinging doors. If only he could ask the Goldsteins to come inside with him ... But how could he do that?
"Good-night, then," they called, moving on.
"Good-night."
He had his whistle between his lips even as they turned; had the
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