The ship sliced though the steady beat of the wave as it headed to New York.
“Waiter, Waiter!” an overweight woman shouted with a strong American accent, as she tired to push herself out of a deck chair, that looked as though it was about to collapse under the strain. Her short stubby arms, which were wrapped in a heavy fur coat, continued to reach out and grab at nothing before the woman gave up and slumped back into her chair.
Then the waiter appeared.
“Thanks a lot dearie” she said once her feet were steady on the ground and a drink was in her hand. “Who are you?” She asked. The woman’s double chin wobbled as she tipped her head back as far as her fat neck would allow it goes to take a sip of her cocktail.
“I am a waiter on the Titanic,” the waiter answered.
“Well that’s pretty obvious,” the overweight woman let out a short chuckle that sounded more like a snort.
“I meant, what is your name? What is your name, boy?”
The waiter did not answer but instead just walked away, leaving the American woman a bit confused. The waiter didn’t mean to be rude but didn’t think he deserved a name, so saw no point in answering.
“Waiter, waiter!” the chef shouted. “Table three, table four and table five!”
The waiter walked calmly despite the rush in the kitchen around him. He picked up the five trays with amazing grace started over to table three in the ship’s first class dining room. The room was filled with hand crafted furniture of the finest skill and priceless paintings. In total the room could seat up to 550 people.
“Your dinner,” the waiter said as he placed the trays of food on table three in front of an English man and his daughter.
“You sure took your time!” The daughter sneered with a snobby annoying voice. She flicked her long red plait over her shoulder, picked her pink ice tea and started slurping away. The other waiters had complained about this sort of behaviour but it didn’t bother him too much, he had been much worse once.
“Bianca, apologise to this man at once!” the English man shouted to his daughter.
Heads turned to watch the waiter and the guest.
“Dad, he’s just a waiter!” she retorted.
“Nobody deserves to be treated rudely, no matter whom there are.” The man turned his back to his daughter to face the waiter.
“I apologise for my daughter sir, you can continue your work now.”
The waiter just walked away. The waiter didn’t mean to be rude but just didn’t think he deserved to be apologised to, so saw no point in answering.
“Waiter, waiter!”
The cry of a little boy was drowned out by the deafening crack beneath the boy’s feet. The ship was breaking in half. Thousands of fear crazed people tiring to get out of the sinking nightmare. The rich were already in the safety of the life boats.
“What do we do!” cried a woman with hysterical tears.
The waiter just walked away, be didn’t mean to be rude, but just thought death was inevitable so saw no point in fearing it, so saw no point in answering.
“Waiter, waiter!” screamed the businessman.
Who would of thought those would be his last words. The waiter reached out to grab the man’s hand but he was gone into the screaming darkness before he had the chance. The ship’s bow was pointed toward the sky and about to sink into the depths of the ocean. The chorus of screams sounded as people jumped for their lives into the freezing water of the North Atlantic Ocean. The waiter prayed to a God he didn’t believe in, grabbed the icy rail and vaulted himself over before he could have any second thoughts. He didn’t scream for he saw no point.
“Waiter, waiter!” screamed a voice inside the waiter’s head, which woke him from his peaceful slumber. It also awoke him to the dreadful reality. The waiter was resting on a long piece of wood that had fallen from the ship into the water. The wails of thousands no longer sounded human. The waiter thought it might all just be a dream, it seemed too horrible and cold to be real. A man floated by the waiter in the black water uncontrollably shivering. Coincidentally it was the same English man that apologised to the waiter the night before. Acting on instinct alone the waiter pulled the man up onto the piece of wood beside him and called for help, just before he passed out.
“Waiter, waiter!” The waiter opened his eyes to see the English man he had saved leaning over him. “Hey you ok, sir?” The waiter did not answer, but this time not because he saw no point, but because of the freezing cold numbing his mouth. The lifeboat rocked from side to side with each wave. “Thanks for saving me, I owe you my life,” the English man leaned over to hug his daughter who had thankfully survived the sinking of the unsinkable. The man seemed to be on the verge of tears as his looked at his daughter, who was sobbing silently. Others on the lifeboat were not so silent as realized the loss of the lost. The English man turned back to the waiter with now tears in his eyes
“ What’s your name?” He asked.
“John.”
