When We Meet on that Distant Shore

April 10, 1912

"Our home for the next week," John said. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Sarah could only nod.

~~~

The Platform tavern was packed to the rafters with men drinking and gambling, their rough voices and raucous laughter filling the air. Most of the patrons were dockhands and off-duty seamen, their weather-beaten faces and calloused hands a testament to the hard work they did on a daily basis. But there were also a few passengers milling about, their eagerness and nervous excitement setting them apart from the rest. These were the ones who had tickets to board the Titanic , and they were making sure to wolf down a quick breakfast and double-check their tickets before the ship set sail. They certainly didn't want to be late for such an important occasion.

A cloud of smoke hung about their heads, obscuring the thick, wooden beams that held up the ceiling. It was a rough-and-tumble place, with a no-nonsense atmosphere that was a far cry from the genteel surroundings of the ship they were heading to. But despite the chaos and noise, all eyes were drawn to the front window, where the dock and the great Titanic could be seen in the distance. The massive ocean liner overshadowed everything else, a testament to its grandeur.

At one small round table in the middle of the room, four men were engrossed in a game of poker. A pile of money sat in the center of the table as they had been playing for some time.

You crazy? You bet all we have." Fabrizio shook his head. He looked down at his own cards and frowned.

Jack glanced at his friend. "Maybe I am crazy." A grin flickered across his lips.

His friend didn't return it. He never liked hustling poker as too much fell to chance. But he couldn't deny that they had often been lucky before. That must come from his friend, the always lucky Jack. He had certainly never felt so lucky by himself. "You lose my money..." The words were well-rehearsed.They had said them often enough and they were always the same. And they always worked.

The two Swedes looked at each other–Fabrizio thought they might've been brothers...they certainly looked alike– and then Olaf, the larger one, reached into his pockets and pulled out the tickets. He tossed them onto the pile.

He looked at those tickets and held his breath. His entire life he had dreamed of going to America–the great land of opportunity and fortune–and there was his dream, right there on the table in front of him. So close, he nearly smelled it. It took everything he had to stop himself from reaching out for those tickets right then and there.

"Hit me, Sven." Jack took the card and slipped it into his hand.

Sven took a card as well. For the briefest moment that felt like an eternity, they all stared at each other, trying to read each other's cards through the back of them.

"Alright, call."

Three of them placed their cards down on the table.

Jack read them off. "Two pair...don't know if I can beat that. I'm sorry, Fabrizio."

Sven reached forward to take the pile of money.

"What sorry?" Fabrizio turned toward his friend. "Ma va fa'n culo testa di cazzo..."

"Except I can." Jack threw down his cards. A wild grin spread across his face. "Full house. We're going to America!"

The two Swedes stared at them with shock written plain on their faces. They looked at the cards on the table and then at each other.

Fabrizio laughed as he gathered up the money while Jack grabbed the two tickets.

"Skitstövel! Ni lurade oss!" Olaf sprang to his feet. His chair fell backward with a loud thud and he pounded his fists on the table. Everyone in the tavern turned to stare and the room fell silent.