The ships captain approached Gail and I near the lifeboats. It was dark and the moonlight was reflecting off bits and pieces on the right of the iceberg. It looked like a diamond in the glow of the light, a diamond maybe, but a dangerous one lurking below the surface with an unknown circumference and jagged edges. We might miss the obvious side, but will we miss what cannot be seen?
The captain is insistent that we return to the party. He is unconcerned about the iceberg. There are many in these waters and none have been a problem before. I know some about icebergs and much more about danger, but do not know these waters as this captain does. We are not convinced we should stay at the party. We are considering cutting a lifeboat free and dunning for our lives. But we agree to at least go to the door where the large man in the wheelchair is sitting. He looks lonely — maybe even scared. He feels his own fate is no longer in his own hands.
Earlier Olivia cornered a lady passing through the room to tell her about the problems with the man in the wheelchair. She is convinced he will tip the ship over. It’s not even reasonable. The woman attempted to escape her clutch. She explained she was in a hurry and really needed to get to her cabin for some sleep. After her release she approached Gail while the wealthy lady held court in the middle of the room. She told Gail she was very uncomfortable being recruited like that. Another also told Gail of the recruitment going on. Sides are being chosen and only one side is recruiting. I thought the meeting was to be secret. I guess Olivia believed it was to be broadcast.
The group around Olivia does not appear very. The mood is somber, maybe even angry. They are in a very serious discussion. Some are listening to Olivia and nodding in agreement, others in a smaller groups seeming to speak similar things. We watch. We listen. We begin a conversation with the man in the wheelchair. He is defensive. Not because of us, but because he feels under attack.
When did he leave the ballroom? Why did he leave? Was he surprised at what was being said? Should he have stayed to defend himself? How did he think it impacted him? He did not seem to know or even understand they want to throw him overboard. He did not know what they were plotting. He was hurt by comments made by three people. He was running the names of all guests through is mind to see if he could figure out who might be angry with him, but could only think of the three. He was unaware a campaign was developing that could destroy him if carried out successfully.
He listened to Gail and I. He seemed to hear our suggestions. But he was following his own track. He was withdrawing like a turtle into his shell. His head was disappearing. He was acting like he might be able to slip into oblivion and not be noticed. He knows he cannot exactly blend into the wallpaper, but thinks he can stay in his stateroom. He would only come out when necessary. Isolation will hurt him even more. He needs people as much as anyone, maybe more. His self-image is often at the bottom of the barrel. When he withdraws, he slips in depression.
While we are talking the waves of the water are growing. We can now feel the rock of the ship as the waves crash again the hull. Gail and I feel like we are the only defense he has. We agree to stand together. However, do not yet know if we will enter the discussion. We don’t want him thrown overboard, but are still waiting for those in authority to step up and be responsible. We want the captain back on the bridge. We want the ship line managers dealing with this threat of mutiny. Is no one in charge? Does no one have any courage to do the right thing? Will it really take two other passengers to save the man in the wheelchair? Maybe we should grab him and get all jump in the lifeboat, but I have no idea how we would get him in the boat.
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