Felicitations! You have unwillingly stumbled upon the legitimacy about the Titanic. The esoteric of the Titanic shall now be revealed to you! The modern tale includes passion, grief and cloud-nine moments, but this story is about heart-break and suffering! ***********************************************************************************************************************
Captain Giles was as befuddled as a mouse on a cat-walk. He was down to his last 100 pound note. He wasn't winning big but he was as joyous as a child opening their presents on Christmas Day. He may have been drunk but he was sure of himself being the Captain of the Titanic as a child is of their blanket. Giles had a spring in his step, but things were about to get pear-shaped.
"Raise 52 pounds!" Hockley exclaimed.
"Fold." Lovett mumbled.
Giles chuckled. "Raise 48 more!"
"Fold." Rossi muttered.
"F-fold." Hockley stuttered.
Giles put down his cards. "Bluff!!"
"You dirty rascal!" Rossi shouted, thumping Giles on his back. Giles grinned, on top of the world. Hockley dealt the cards. The door to the pub opened and a cool breeze entered the room. Rossi tightened his scarf. With an ear-wrenching creak the door closed.
"This flamin' chilly weather...Mark my words, something disastrous is about to happen..." Hockley's voice trailed off.
"Call." Lovett chimed in.
"Bet 12 pounds." Giles countered.
"Raise 140!" Rossi announced.
"Call." Hockley muttered.
"Call." Lovett repeated.
"Call." Giles said doubtfully.
"Check." Rossi replied.
After various bets Rossi and Lovett folded. Giles was still on his all-in bet. It was Hockley's turn. Hockley tried to read Giles' poker face, realizing Giles didn't have on Hockley snickered.
"All in," Hockley put down his cards. "Read 'em and weep."
Giles nervously put down his cards. Rossi, Lovett and Hockley glared wide-eyed at Giles' cards, in anticipation.
"You win." Giles said glumly.
Hockley pumped his fist in the air.
"You fellas up for Black Jack?" Rossi offered. Giles regretted his decision, but bet his children's college fund. Lovett dealt the cards. Giles had an Ace and nine.
"Hit me..." Giles stumbled. Ten.
"Stand." Giles stammered.
And like an annoying parrot all of the others decided to stand as well. Rossi had 21, Lovett had 12 and Hockley had 15. Giles almost choked on the annihilating outcome. The guys the snorted and laughed as Giles exited the pub. Giles slouched out. Once outside he started swaying uncontrollably, his blurred vision would only let him read on thing; the name of his ship: Titanic. Giles had a flashback that let him remember where he was: he was in South-Hampton. Making his way through the crowd he entered the magnificent beast. And then it hit him in the head, like a baseball. He had lost his children's college money; he was now broke with no reason to live, if he told his wife she would be furious, steam pouring out of her ears her nostrils flaring, hends clenched in fists, feet firmly on the floor, face red as a tomato, and those piercing blue eyes as sharp as knives. Giles was heavily intoxicated, these solemn thoughts made him nauseous.
Giles walked through the ballroom, he looked up at the terrific chandelier, sparkling, like diamonds, hanging in the air like dew drops. On his way to the Captain's cabin a various number of breath-taking women courstied to Giles. He heard Freeman, the Co-Captain telling the crew to set sail. Two unauthorized men had just boarded the ship innocently. The officer in charge was alerted that they only spoke Portuguese.
"Tutens bilchete? Si nao tens faco facour de ir." ("Do you have a ticket? If you do not please leave.") Giles questioned the stouter man with the roughest moustache ever, as prickly as a porcupine. The two strangers retreated from the ship immediately while apologizing.
"Pesaroso." The stouter man apologized.
"Si, muito pesaroso." The thinner man agreed.
"Obrigado!!" They finished in unison.
"O adeus, ciao." Giles wished them well.
Captain Giles set sail for New York; he could hear the ecstatic cheers from the deck below. Giles was delighted with himself, until he remembered his devastating loss in his previous game of Black Jack, Giles was so furious, he tried not to let this though envelope his first journey on the newly furbished Titanic. The journey was great, until Giles heard some commotion outside, he commanded Freeman to take over, while he rushed outside to see what the fuss was about. One of the richest people on the ship, Rose DeWitt Bukater, whose hair was as bright as the sun, eyes as brown as chocolate and a solemnly pursed mouth was threatening to jump off the stern of the ship. A lovely man called Jack Dawson, with brown locks of hair that tickled the back of his neck and eyes as blue as the sky had an urge to save Rose as much as he had a passion to create art. Giles observed the scene carefully, he thought about him and his wife, and if she found out about him losing their children's college fund how she might have decided to jump overboard, too. Jack convinced Rose to come back on board the Titanic, reluctantly Rose accepted Jack's invitation. Caledon Smith, Rose's boyfriend arrived at the scene, anxious to know what he'd just missed by a split second. Giles explained briefly about Rose's threats. Rose demanded Caledon give Jack something for his marvelous work, Caledon instinctively handed Jack a twenty pound bill. Jack walked away appreciating what he'd just done, but Rose wouldn't hear of it, she screamed at Caledon:
"Am I worth only twenty pounds to you?! I don't know why you weren't with me, but this handsome man has just saved my life, doesn't that mean a single thing to you?! Perhaps you should try jumping off this ship and see who saves you!!" She turned to Jack, lowering her tone.
"I wish for you to come and dine with us, may I please get your name kind sir?"
Jack spun around in a three hundred and sixty degree angle, his thoughts shattered by Rose's and Caledon's argument.
"Jack Dawson...Ma'am." Jack stumbled.
Giles hurried back inside where Freeman was, he gently asked him to step aside. Lovejoy the lookout alerted Giles that there was an iceberg not too far off course. Giles struggled with the decision of fate, it was like choosing Pepsi from Coke, they were almost the same. Should he tell his wife and wait for her to go bonkers? Or should he sail this ship to its demise, taking some innocent souls with him? Giles stood up straighter, shoulders back, feet motionlessly on the floorboards, the floorboards squeaked like mice.
An ear-wrenching screen woke Freeman, Lovejoy and the rest of the crew from their meditation. Giles; expression was as blank as his mind, he couldn't think straight, he was feeling mixed emotions, but did not know which one to express. He felt like a mod ring, something people used as an extra, he was a Captain and sailed around with various people on many ships. But nobody ever appreciated what he did. Giles whirled the steering wheel sharply to the left, the ear-splitting sound got louder, the lights flickered, cutlery fell off the shelves, there were shouts of anger and confusion, there was a leak in the bottom of the ship, an ear-piercing cry was released by Freeman, he had fallen through a large crack, his leg was stuck, hiding like a mole hides in a hole. Passengers fled to exits of the ship, the sound of almost one thousand people trying to break down the Captain's headquarters' door made Giles wince. He scrambled up the ladder to the upper deck, security officers were already escorting women and children onto the life boats, and they held black pistols in their hands, hoping with all their heart they wouldn't have to use them. Giles watched the agitation, like an eagle watching it's prey, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a pistol as black and shiny as the sky. He regretted what he was about to do, Giles rotated the gun so it was facing him, he peeked into the penetrating crater that held gleaming bullets, he wrenched the trigger back, with a deafening blast Giles hit the floor as fast as a cheetah chases it's prey. The last thing Giles remembered was hitting the hard, wet deck and within earshot the shrieks of individual women.
