“They Had Each Other” by Paul R. Zook(A.k.a. Peter Bunny) As a student of the Titanic as well as a Tiny Toons fan, not too long ago I wondered what would happen if the two were combined. The idea, once conceived, would not leave me alone until I wrote it out. The following period drama is the result, wherein I combined comedy with tragedy, fact with fiction, the present with the past. A very special thanks goes out to Kevin Mickel and Jamie Wilmoth, without whose help this wouldn’t be possible. For historical and technical accuracy, I used as references “Titanic: An Illustrated History” by Don Lynch and Ken Marschall and “A Night To Remember” by Walter Lord. My address is: critters2@hotmail.com. Drop me a line and let me know what you think; I promise I’ll answer all I can. Hope you enjoy it! Original Tiny Toon Adventures characters, their names and likenesses are (c) Time-Warner Inc./Amblin Entertainment and are used without permission. This file cannot be altered in any way but can be freely distributed electronically. Additionally, it cannot be archived on any commercial product (CD-ROM, etc.) without my express written consent, and any use in a commercial compilation is likewise verboten without my say-so. Please feel free to make private hard copies of this story iften it suits your fancy! It was a trip that none of them would ever forget. A week’s cruise to Europe, a three week’s journey to Europe’s most famous places, and now a week’s cruise home, on the largest and most luxurious liner in all the world. But Acme Looniversity didn’t send Buster Bunny, Babs Bunny, Shirley McLoon and Pluck Duck to Europe on a vacation. No, they were actually supposed to *learn* about the countries they studied in their European Cultures class – long, tedious reports notwithstanding upon their return to class! Still, to the foursome on board the R.M.S. _Titanic_ it was very much the vacation of a lifetime. It was late this April night, and Buster, Babs, Plucky and Shirley were all getting ready to turn in for the evening. It had been a full day. In fact every day had been a full day, ever since they boarded. This ship was so huge! So many places to go! So many things to do! So many things to see! Indeed, there hadn’t been a dull moment throughout the whole trip back, as opposed to the trip over, wherein the group exhausted everything interesting by the third of a seven day voyage. Or, maybe it was Sunday, a day the toons turned in early anyway when there was school the next day. At any rate, in their adjoining First Class suites on C-Deck, Buster and Plucky waited in bed for the return of their respective sweethearts. In Buster and Babs’ room, the lights were already out and Buster lay with his head in his hands, in that no-man’s-land between drowsiness and wakefulness. Babs snapped off the light and exited the washroom. The elements in the room’s electric space heater opposite the bed gave off a bright, cheery glow and added a soft, romantic half- light to the darkened room. She walked over to the warm bed and stood there, hands on her hips, wearing only a sexy red silk nightie. “Move over, Blue Boy. I’m getting cold,” she cooed. Buster turned to her and smiled. Then he slid over. Babs eased into bed and snuggled up close to Buster. She sighed. “Oh, Buster, wasn’t it wonderful that that coal strike had us transferred from the _Philadelphia_ here to _Titanic_?” she breathed. “I still can’t believe that when they transferred us they actually moved us *up* a class! Ohh, of all the things we’ve experienced, going home on the _Titanic_ has *got* to be the best of the whole trip!” “Next to doing stuff in here, right?” Buster added with a wide grin. Babs giggled. “Of *course*!” she said coyly. “Speaking of such… Feel up for a round or three…?”Babs, however, wasn’t taking the bait. “Ohh, not tonight, sweets,” she said quietly but soothingly. “I’m kinda tired.” Then, lowering her voice a little, “Besides, I need a little time to recover from last night…”“Aww, that’s okay, Babsie,” Buster said, a little dissapointed. “But don’t worry, tomorrow’s another day,” Babs reassured, softly and seductively. After short pause she added, “I want my hat!” “You *what*?” Buster asked, taken totally by surprise. “My hat. The one I got in Paris.” Buster was used to Babs’ extemporaneous outbursts by now, but this one took him *completely* off guard! “What the…Why do you want your *hat*?” “I like my new hat!” Babs said and unexpectedly started to get out of bed. Almost immediately, Buster grabbed her upper arm and stopped her. “NooOOO, leave your hat over there!” Buster chided, feeling a tad annoyed that his sweetheart would break such a romantic mood. “You’ve worn it enough for today. In fact, you haven’t stopped wearing it since you got it!” Babs snuggled back against her beau, chuckling at her own little joke. “Sorry, Buster, I just can’t help myself!” “Now behave.” Babs lowered her eyelids and gently brought Buster’s face near hers. “Okay, how’s this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mmm, that’s better…” Both rabbits enjoyed a nice, long kiss. Buster moved his right arm just below Babs’ pillow and Babs settled back, half laying on her boyfriend, who then closed his arm around her. “Good night, Buster,” she whispered. “’Night, kiddo.” In their sumptuous stateroom next door, Plucky and Shirley were also making themselves cozy. Like Buster, Plucky also had on a pair of cotton pajamas. He sat on the bed and worked at getting the maximum fluff out of his down pillow. Shirley merely worked at getting her hair tied up in rags. She wore an oversized man’s flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to about half her forearms, and *just* enough buttons closed to cover what needed to be covered. But whereas she was thinking about sleep, Plucky was entertaining *other* ideas! Plucky must have had *that* look on his face, as Shirley felt it important to add: “Like, don’t get your hopes up, Pluck-Face. I don’t think we’re going do to *that* tonight, or some junk!” “Oh, come *onnn*, sweetheart!” Plucky protested. “You *said* we would! Pleeeease? Oh, come on!” “Plucky, your whining is *totally* stressing out my aura! Besides, I said we *might*. Now behave yourself before that becomes we *won’t*! As Shirley was speaking, Plucky squashed, squeezed, smashed, flattened, or otherwise pounded his pillow until it was exactly as he wanted it. But each time he threw his head into it, he had to sit up and readjust it again until he was sure he heard it say, “For cryin’ out loud, will you just lay your head in me and go to sleep already?!!” Shirley laid down and pulled the covers over her. “Like, when you’re done playing with that silly pillow will you please turn the lamp off, darling?” Then, changing her tone from chiding to seductive, “…Then come over here and keep me warm, or some junk...” Plucky, a little hot but finally satisfied that his pillow was to specs, got up, walked over to where the lamp was on a desk, and switched it off. The room was plunged into darkness, save for the warm glow coming from its space heater. Plucky attempted to find his way back to the bed but stumbled on a chair, almost tripping him to the floor. “Ooop!…Err!…I’m coming…!” he called. Shirley couldn’t help but giggle to herself. In spite of Plucky’s best efforts to be suave and debonair, he always fell just a little short. But even as his pride suffered, he never stopped trying to seem in control, even as he knew that he wasn’t. And that’s what she loved about him. This trip that they were on brought both couples closer together. But, despite Plucky’s sincere wish otherwise, the relationship that he had with Shirley – while special in itself – was still not quite to the point that it was with Buster and Babs. Plucky had heard soft sounds coming from their room last night, very sweet and low, and knew what they were doing in there, but when he tried the same thing with Shirley, she broke their passion just short of his intended goal. Of course she loved him, Shirley thought. But she just wanted to make sure that they didn’t do too much to soon, or at least, too much at once. Plucky ambled to the bed and slid under the covers. “Like, are you sure you’re going to behave yourself?” asked Shirley. “Certainly, my dear!” Plucky asserted confidently. “Like, no more petting, pet, until you’ve finished the notes you were going to finish.” Plucky sat up and pulled out a packet of notes, seemingly from behind his back. “They’re all right here, toots, you can look at ‘em if you want!” He didn’t feel it necessary to tell her that they were all copies of the same page of notes. Shirley also sat up and cocked her head. “Okay, but if you go too far tonight, you’re, like, sleeping on the floor, or some junk,” she said, eyeing him carefully. “My love, you have my word!” Plucky’s little travel alarm clock was fast closing in on 11:00. By 11:40, both couples were asleep, except for Shirley, who hadn’t been able to get a full night’s rest since the ship left Southampton four days ago. Instead, she slept very lightly, and the least little noise woke her up. Suddenly it seemed that something was shaking the room; she woke up just in time to hear all the loose items in the room vibrate for a few moments. For a split second, she thought she was back home in California and was experiencing a minor trembler. She listened, and somewhere far below her floor and deep inside the ship she heard a grinding sound, very faint and indistinct. Then, almost as soon as it began, it was gone. All of a sudden, she became uneasy. “Plucky? Plucky! Like, wake up, Plucky!” Curled up on the floor in front of the space heater, Plucky stirred only slightly. “Umm? Mmmm,” he mumbled. “Wake up, Plucky! Did you feel that?” Shirley asked with a touch of concern. “Mmm? Feel what?” “The shaking! Like, something just totally shook the room, and I’m getting, like, totally hostile vibes from it, or some junk!” “The president just fell out of bed, okay?” murmured Plucky sleepily. “Plucky! President Taft is totally not on board…!” But she could go no further; Plucky rolled over on his side and covered his head with his blanket. Then he began to snore. Shirley looked around their stateroom, trying to determine if there was anything to worry about. She got out of bed, walked through the washroom, and stood in front of the door leading into Buster and Babs’ room. Thinking it more prudent to knock first, she did so, lightly. Nothing. She put her ear close to the door and listened. Still nothing. Gingerly she tried the door and opened it a crack. She listened again, but this time she heard only the sound of two bunnies sleeping. Quietly she closed the door and retreated back into her own room. Shirley stood there, thinking. Then she went over to the stateroom door and listened for any activity in the hall. Finding none, she turned back. Uneasily she climbed back in bed, tried to shake off her feeling of dread, and to go back to sleep. Fifteen minutes after midnight, a loud knock came from the door of Buster and Babs’ room. Both rabbits stirred. “Buster, see what that is…” Babs said dreamily. A succession of knocks grew louder, followed by a voice: “All up, please! Up, please, rabbits!” Then more knocks. Buster groaned and put his head under his pillow. Babs cooed like dove then likewise moaned as their steward continued his knocking. “Busterrr, get *up*!” she groaned. Promptly she shoved him out of bed with her foot, landing him on his knees on the floor. “All up, please! You must get up!” More knocks followed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m comin’…” mumbled a sleepy Buster as he rose to his feet. He walked over to the door, unlocked it, and opened it a few inches. The bright light coming from the hall made him cringe. “Yeah?” he blinked. “Sorry for this inconvenience. We’ve run into a bit of trouble with the ice and the captain has ordered everyone on deck!” “Yeah. Okay. We’re coming…” said Buster and yawned. Still not fully awake, he opened the door a little wider. Before either Buster or Babs knew what was happening, their steward walked briskly in and quickly turned on the light. Both rabbits groaned in protest. “Now cheerio! Up and dressed, please!” he said loudly. “Hey, what’s this all about?” asked Babs angrily. Carefully she put the covers up to her chest as she clumsily sat up. “What’s going on here, Mr. Higgins?” “There’s been talk of an iceberg, miss. We simply bumped a berg. On Captain Smith’s orders, all passengers are to report to Boat Deck.” Steward Higgins walked to their closet and opened it wide. Producing two pale lifejackets he continued: “Now dress warmly, and make sure you have these on. Now spit spot! Get dressed, please! I’ll go and wake Mr. Duck and Ms. McLoon.” “Ya really know how to ruin a good night’s sleep, don’t ya?” Buster said acidly as Higgins moved to the door. Higgins laughed. “I say, sir, that *is* a good one, what?! I’ll be in to check on you a little later.” “Is it serious?” Buster asked, scratching his head. “Oh, I don’t believe so,” Higgins said as he turned the doorknob and opened the door. “Merely a precaution.” He turned and left, closing the door behind him. “Goofy limey…” Buster grumbled to himself. He turned and looked at Babs. She rubbed her eye as she yawned. “Well, I guess we better get dressed,” he said. “Considering we’re AWAKE now!” Grinning savagely from ear to ear he added, “And I guess you better put a little more on than *that*!” Babs noticed that one of the straps on her nightie had fallen off her shoulder. She replaced it and stretched. “Yeah, an’ I bet if it were up to you I’d stay like this, wouldn’t I, *deeeaaar*!” “Of course you would! Whaddaya think I look like, - “ “A pig!” Babs interrupted with a laugh. “No, I’m not! Hampton’s a pig. I’m a rabbit!” “Oh, really? You act just like a pig!” Without warning, Babs playfully hurled her pillow at her smirking boyfriend. Slowly they dressed as they were asked. Once he was dressed enough, Buster went through the washroom and knocked on the door. “Yeah?” asked Plucky. Buster walked on in. Much to his surprise, he found Shirley fully dressed – lifejacket and all – and ready to go. “Looks like Howlin’ Higgins was here!” Buster quipped. “Yeah? How can you tell?” Plucky returned sarcastically. “I swear, I’m gonna throw that guy overboard before we reach New York!” “Tell me when you do – I’ll help ya!” laughed Plucky. "Whatssa matter with that guy?" Plucky produced a large wooden mallet and wielded in front of him. "Nothing a good swat on the ol' noggin with *this* won't fix," Plucky grinned. "Ha! Ha! We can't do that! We need him too much - to wait on us!" Buster said laughing. It was Shirley who broke the levity: “You guys, this is, like, totally not funny, or some junk!” The look on her face told the two surprised toons that she wasn’t kidding. “What’s the matter, toots?” asked Plucky with an undertone of concern. “I’ve been getting, like, totally hostile vibes tonight, and my aura is telling me that there’s more going on here than Mr. Higgins is letting on.” “What could be the problem?” Buster asked casually. “So we bumped a little ice. So? It’s not like we’re sinkable or anything.” “Yeah, what could be the worse that could happen to us? We get put into lifeboats and are forced to wait there until the ship is fixed or something. We’ll be alright,” Plucky said flippantly. “Yeah, we’ll be all right,” Buster reinforced reassuringly, almost soothingly. “After all, we have each other. You know, all for one and one for all. And together we can get ourselves out of *any* spots! We have so far!” “Like, okay, you guys…Where’s Babs?”“She’ll be here in a second,” said Buster.Then, as if on cue, Babs appeared in the washroom door, fully dressed - life jacket, hat and all. “I’m heeeeeere!” she announced. Posing as a model she said in her best fashion announcer voice: “The new spring fashion *this* year are white cork life jackets worn *over* your clothes and looking *completely* hideous with *anything* you could hope to wear!” Reducing her friends to fits of laughter Babs peeled her life jacket off and held it before her. “Phew, it doesn’t do a *thing* for me!” she cracked. “I’ll just carry mine.” “Me too,” said Plucky. Shirley had hers on and wasn't taking it off. “Are we, like, ready now?” she asked in a tone full of impatience. A brisk knock at the door announced the return of Steward Higgins. Shirley opened the door and let him in. “Oh, Mr. Bunny and Ms. Bunny! You’re all ready! On your way to the top, then?” “We’re coming, we’re coming!” all four said in unison. “Oh, just a sec,” Buster said as he started back into his room. “I need to get my coat.” Once on their way, they were joined by many others in the white paneled hall, all on their way up to Boat Deck, two decks up. As they walked along, they noticed more and more people, all in various states of dress. “Looks like it might be a while before we’re back in bed again.” Buster said dryly. As they neared the elevators to go up to Boat Deck, the crowd became more dense. Seeing the congestion at the elevators, Plucky called out, “Look at these people! Oh, let’s forget about it an’ just take the stairs!” “Yeah, good idea,” agreed Buster. “By the time we finally get one we could’ve been up there by then.” As they ascended the magnificent wrought iron and polished oak construction of the forward Grand Staircase, the foursome paused only long enough to check the time on the clock set in an elegantly- carved wall panel at the top. It was a little past 12:30. A crewman asked Babs and Plucky to put their life jackets on, which they did without breaking their stride. The ship’s five-piece orchestra, led by violinist Wallace Hartley, had set up in the Boat Deck foyer and were now pumping out fast-paced ragtime dance music. As the group passed them on their way outside, it was hard to imagine by listening to them that anything was seriously wrong. Even Shirley was calmed a little by the tunes. But when they emerged on deck, Buster, Babs, Shirley and Plucky were not prepared for what awaited them. First came the roar of steam. Great clouds of it were spewing from vents near the tops of the first three of _Titanic_’s four towering funnels, and the din of it was so loud people had to yell to be heard. Down in the ship’s boiler rooms pressure had steadily been building inside the boilers since the ship was at full speed until at last the safety valves lifted and the excess steam was vented off. Pipes leading up to the funnels barely held their contents. Then there was the cold. The last time Buster, Babs, Plucky and Shirley were on deck was early this evening, when they enjoyed a spectacular sunset before dinner. The temperature then was in the low 40s. In the hours since, however, the temperature had dropped to 31 degrees. When the group emerged onto Boat Deck they advanced a few paces and took in the commotion around them. Babs was the first to speak. "Whoa! What's all this?” she asked to no one in particular. “What?!” said Buster. “I SAID WHAT'S ALL THIS??” repeated Babs loudly, trying to compete with the escaping steam. “I DUNNO, BUT IT’S GOTTEN A LOT COLDER OUT HERE!” added Plucky, also loudly. “So, like, now what are we supposed to do?” asked Shirley. “Huh?” “SO, LIKE, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW?” “I DUNNO,” yelled Buster as he observed the action going on around the lifeboats. “IT LOOKS LIKE THEY’RE PUTTING PEOPLE IN LIFEBOATS!” He noticed that the lifeboats had been stripped of their pale grey canvas covers, swung out, and lowered to a level almost even with the deck. Crewmen appeared to be trying to convince people to enter them. “PUTTING THEM IN THEM?” asked Babs quizzically. She looked and that did infact seem the case. Plucky and Shirley likewise looked. Suddenly, Shirley's eyes grew to the size of saucers as she watched a few people reluctantly enter the boats.“Well, there doesn’t seem to be many takers!” observed Plucky.“WHAT?!” cried Buster.“I SAID, THERE DOESN’T SEEM TO BE MANY TAKERS!”Babs looked at Shirley and noticed her friend’s wild-eyed countenance. Looking into her eyes she saw great fear. “Why, Shirley! What’s the matter, kid? Ya look like you just saw a ghost!”But Shirley could make no reply. She could only keep staring, petrified with terror.“Shirley?… C’mon, SHIRLEY…!” Babs waved her hand in front of Shirley’s face, and it seemed to get her attention, but when she tried to speak nothing came out. Babs looked worried. “C’MON, LET’S GO BACK INSIDE!” called Buster. As he and Plucky turned to return to the Boat Deck foyer, they noticed Shirley for the first time. “WHAT’S WRONG WITH *HER*?” Buster asked Babs. “WHAT, IS SHE GOING INTO ANOTHER PSYCHIC STATE OR SOMETHING?” “I DON’T KNOW! SOMETHING’S REALLY GOT HER SPOOKED!” said Babs. “HEY, SHIRLEY!…SWEETHEART!” said Plucky. He looked into his loon love’s face and knew immediately something was amiss. “I’VE NEVER SEEN HER LIKE THIS!” he said to Buster. “C’MON, LET’S GO INSIDE!” Buster tried again. “C’mon, Shirley! We’re going inside!” he said to her, trying to be gentle yet heard over the roar of escaping steam. Plucky took her hand and together they all went back to the warmth and relative quiet of the Boat Deck foyer. They staked out a spot opposite the musicians, who were still tearing out lively music. Watching the action outside through a window, Buster, Babs and Plucky then tried to figure out their next move. Finally Shirley came around and was able to talk again. “Like, *mondo terrifyo*!” she moaned, her voice quivering. “I saw all this, you guys. My aura had this like, premonition that all this would happen, or some junk! Oh, don’t you see? I saw all this happening! We need to go into a lifeboat!” “Seen all this? What are you talking about, Shirl?” Plucky asked with a puzzled look on his face. “Sweetie, you’re just babbling!” “The other evening, when we were walking along here…My karma connected and my aura saw all this. The boats uncovered…people getting in them…the noise…deck lights… I saw the whole thing happening!” Buster looked at Plucky, who in turn replied with a shrug. “What else have you…*seen*…or how long have you felt uneasy?” asked Buster. “Well, it first started in Southampton, when I first saw the ship…My aura, like, was trying to warn me then, but I couldn’t figure out what she was saying. It was, like, a *total* feeling of dread, or some junk….But it came in, like, hits, you know? Something would just totally hit me – my *aura* was hitting me, trying to warn me…But of what I couldn’t figure out. When that one ship almost hit us as we were leaving Southampton, I thought that *that* was what she was warning me about. But that night, I had this, like, premonition. And later on, my aura, like, kept hitting me, or some junk…But I wouldn’t listen to her. I mean, like, this ship is unsinkable, right?” As she looked out the window, Shirley looked about ready to cry. “Is that it?” Plucky asked. “I noticed that you didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself as much as the rest of us. Why didn’t you say anything before?” “Ohhh…like, I dunno… This ship is supposed to be unsinkable, or some junk…I just didn’t want to sound mondo strange or anything…” “You mean more so than usual?” Babs offered with a smile, trying to lighten the situation a bit. Shirley responded with a forced, taunt smile of her own. “But could we *please*, like, get into the boats, or some junk?” Buster looked out the window and fingered his ear, thinking. Then he looked at Babs and Plucky. “Well…I suppose we *could* wait in a lifeboat. But don’t worry, ol’ Loon-Girl! We’ll be alright!” “Yeah, we’ll be alright!” Babs exclaimed confidently. She patted Shirley’s back as she continued: “You remember what Tomas said earlier today. It would take more than a little ice to sink *this* ship!” “Yeah! Ha! Ha! A little ice! Ho! Ho! It is to laugh!” laughed Plucky loudly. “I think your aura was mistaken on this one! Hee! Hee! Hee!” “*But*, it makes you feel any better, we’ll get into a lifeboat.” smiled Buster. Shirley looked visibly relieved. “Like, thanks, you guys.” “Although I think we might want to get our valuables, in case we get separated from the ship.” “Okay, Buster. But, like, let’s not dawdle, or some junk.” Thus decided, the quartet started for the stairs. The same crewmember who had earlier asked Babs and Plucky to don their lifejackets saw them pass by and had a “Where are you *going*?” look on his face. Reading it, Buster called out as they descended, “Don’t worry! We’re only going down to get our stuff. We’ll be right back.” As they passed down the brightly-lit hallway on C-Deck, they ran into Thomas Andrews, Managing Director of Harland & Wolff Shipyard and _Titanic_’s builder, who had guided the group on a personalized tour of his masterpiece earlier this afternoon. A charming, outgoing man, he seemed to take a special liking to Babs, who in turn used her own charms and personality to get him to show parts of the ship normally off-limits to passengers. But now he wore such a sad look on his face that they had to find out what was the matter. “Thomas, hieeeee,” Babs greeted cheerfully. “Why, you look so sad, kid! Come, tell Babsie what’s wrong.” “Yeah, Tom,” Plucky chimed in but lightly. “You look like ya just found out Elmyra is really your daughter!” “Babs! Plucky! Buster! Shirley! What are you lot doing down here?” Andrews asked worriedly. “You should all be entering lifeboats!” “Uh, we *were* up there, but we were going back to our rooms for our stuff,” explained Buster. “You don’t have anything registered with the Purser, do you?” “No.” Andrews breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God! I’ve a dozen ladies there now all requesting their jewelry, and I’m having a devil of a time convincing them to go topside!” “What’s going on around here, Mr. Andrews,” Plucky asked, annoyance clearly showing in his voice. “We heard that the ship struck a little ice but that it wasn’t serious. Then we saw crewmen putting people in the boats. Now, if it’s not serious, why should we trade the warmth and brightness of the ship for the cold darkness of the lifeboats?” Andrews released a tired, mournful sigh, doggedly ran his hand over the side of his face, and pulled them close to the wall. Great concern was etched into his face. He started out slowly and quietly: “Now listen to me very carefully. You all must get to a lifeboat right away. We did more than bump that iceberg. We rammed it almost head on and it sliced us wide open. We’re making water fast – *please*, you’ve *got* to hurry!” “Like, I *knew* it was serious!” Shirley cried softly and hoarsely. “But this ship is supposed to be unsinkable!” said Babs, unconvinced. Andrews bit his lip and continued: “We can’t float…Remember this afternoon when I took you to my office? And do you remember when I showed you _Titanic_’s blueprints?” All four nodded. “Remember when I said that _Titanic_ can float with any two consecutive compartments flooded, or the first three or even the first four compartments flooded? Well, tonight that iceberg opened the first *five* and part of the *sixth* compartments – a full third of our length! We can float with *four*, but *not five* compartments flooded! It’s a mathematical certainty!” “B – But what about those watertight bulkheads? Won’t they contain the water?” Buster asked incredulously. “About half of the watertight bulkheads only extend up as far as E-Deck. When the fifth compartment fills the water with flow into the sixth. The sixth into seventh, seventh into eight, and so on, like sections of an ice cube tray.” “Is it really that bad?” “Yes! Yes!” - Andrews paused as a passenger walked past them - "Make no mistake about it, my friends; this ship *will* founder! But *please*, keep what I said to yourselves; there *must* be no panic. Now, please, off you go – and Buster, Plucky, make sure you get these ladies into a lifeboat.” “But what about you, Thomas?” Babs asked, growing very concerned. Andrews did his best to smile. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll make it in time,” he said. But before anyone could say anything more he said, “Cherio and goodbye, my friends. May God bless you.” Then he abruptly turned and left. Both couples watched Andrews walk down the hall, checking doors and making sure no one remained. Then they looked at each other, silently. All of a sudden, and for the first time, they realized the full seriousness of the situation. Buster was the first one to find his voice. “Well, I guess we better get going,” he said with a very dry throat. The others merely nodded. Some twenty minutes after they left the Boat Deck foyer, Buster, Babs, Plucky and Shirley were returning, a little faster than before. As they approached the landing to the Grand Staircase, Buster noticed something he hadn’t before: “Say, does something not seem right with the floor to you guys?” “Yeah, there’s something wrong with these steps,” Babs said as they ascended. “They seem to be off-level or something!” Plucky added, “It’s like the ship has a…” “*Tilt*…to…the bow…” Shirley finished, her voice trailing off. All four looked at each other. The _Titanic_ had developed a noticeable forward list, which only served to underline what Thomas Andrews had told them. Wordlessly they continued. As the group reached the top, Hartley and his musicians were still in the foyer, but were between sets. Shirley could hear snatches of their conversation as they tried to decide on their next numbers. Somewhere she wondered if they knew they were in danger. Buster, Babs, Plucky and Shirley emerged onto Boat Deck and surveyed the commotion around them. While it was still cold, of course, the roar of the steam venting from the _Titanic_’s funnels had died down. But what was even more noticeable than the steam was the general mood of the passengers. Gone was the nonchalant, almost joking reactions toons had upon being summoned onto deck. Gone was the reluctance – even resistance – to being helped into the lifeboats. And perhaps most of all, gone was the feeling that the steel ship was a safer bet than any wooden lifeboat. No, few on Boat Deck still believed that the _Titanic_ wasn’t really sinking. Buster saw that, of the group of four regulation and one collapsible lifeboats lined up before him, two were gone and one was about ready to leave. Quickly, the foursome took their places in back of the crowd, standing next to crewmen who still manned ropes at the davits for Boat Number 4. Noticing the new arrivals, one sailor discreetly told Buster: “If I were you, lad, I’d take your ladies down to Promenade Deck. We’re loading this one from there.”“Thanks!…Uh, there *are* other ships en route here, aren’t there?”“Three that I know of, lad.”“Will they be here in time?” Buster tried his best not to sound overly concerned. “Oh, there’s no doubt about *that*, sir! Absolutely! Why, you can see one right off the port bow – a liner only ten miles away!” Buster looked. Sure enough, he found it – a bright light right on the horizon, brighter than any star. Buster reached out and put a hand on the shoulders of Babs and Plucky. “Come on,” he said in a low voice. “This boat is loading from the next deck down. Let’s try down there.” Suddenly, as both couples made their way forward to descend the flight of stairs leading down to Promenade Deck, a rocket ripped its way up and over the ship. They stopped to watch it as it arced high over the latticework of masts, funnels and rigging, until it burst into six smaller white balls which bathed the surrounding area in a pale, ghostly light. In spite of Plucky’s status as a waterfowl, he still considered himself a definite landlubber. Yet when he saw the white rocket explode over the ship, he knew its significance – radio distress calls to other ships were going unanswered and this is a last-ditch effort for help. Drawing close to Buster’s ear he said, “Hey, Buster, you saw that rocket, right?” “Yeah...” “Does it seem to you that they’re sending them up ‘cause they haven’t been able to reach any other ship by wireless to ask for help?” Buster felt a spike of dread run through him. Maybe that ship he saw didn’t know they were sinking! “Yeah, it does! Listen, Plucky...one of these crew guys said there’s a ship close by – you can see it on the horizon. But it’s, like, ten miles away. If it doesn’t know we’re sinking it may not reach us in time.” “Maybe they’ll see this rocket and come to our rescue.” “God, I hope so!” Turning his attention to the rest of the group, Buster called out, “Come on, guys. Let’s get going!” As they continued toward the stairwell Plucky noticed knots of seamen working on a collapsible lifeboat stowed at the base of the first funnel, on the roof over the officer’s quarters. Once down on Promenade Deck, the four saw a large group of passengers already assembled. They also saw Boat Number 4, but it wasn’t lowered far enough to be loaded. One crewman busied himself with cranking the enclosed deck’s windows down while two others seemed to be caught in a dilemma. On closer examination people could see why - the _Titanic_’s sounding spar stuck out directly under the boat and prevented it from being lowered. As Buster, Babs, Plucky and Shirley took up positions near the larger group of toons, Buster announced, “Here, you guys; we’ll stay right here. If and when more people show up, make sure we all stay tight together. I think we would waste more time in trying to find another boat to go to, so we’ll just stay put and wait until they start loading.” “What’ll we do in the meantime?” Plucky asked. Buster started to answer but was cut short by Babs: “Hey! Hey! Hey! Look! There’s John Jacob Astor!” she squealed. “Yeah!” Plucky said, his eyes growing wide with the excitement of being near the wealthiest man on board the _Titanic_. “Say, isn’t that his *new* wife with him who’s like, our age and *pregnant*?” “There’s nothing wrong with her being pregnant,” Buster said. “Even if he *did* divorce his other wife to marry her.” “There is if he’s old enough to be her *father*, for cryin’ out loud!...Hmm...She doesn’t *look* as big as a house-*Oww*!” Plucky winced as Shirley belted him a good one right in his upper arm. “What?! What?! I heard she was blown up like a balloon- OWW!! Hey!” he cried in pain as Babs punched him in his other upper arm. “PIG!” Babs and Shirley retorted in unison. “Busterrr....” he whimpered pitifully, rubbing both arms. “Hey, don’t expect *me* to help you out of the holes you dig for yourself,” Buster remarked in amusement. “I think you better keep your big beak shut before they throw you overboard!” “Oh, Shirley, I *must* get his autograph!” said Babs, forgetting about Plucky and now starting to melt into a pink puddle. “Forget his autograph! I must get some of his *money*!” Plucky said as his feathers began to turn a decidedly greener hue. “Pluckyyyy...” And so it went. For almost an hour the Promenade Deck crowd waited, waiting for someone to come back with an axe to chop the sounding spar away…waiting for Boat No. 4 to start loading…waiting for someone to competently direct them. The tilt in the deck itself turned from being slightly noticeable to very noticeable. Paralleling the slant was the noise from the commotion on the deck above. The mood of the people gathered there started out as unconcern, even nonchalance. But unconcern dissolved to concern once distress rockets started firing. And now concern was degenerating into panic as lifeboats were being lowered away. But the lights still burned brightly, and the music from Wallace Hartley’s orchestra – now gathered outside near the entrance to the Grand Staircase – continued to flow into the cold night air. Buster, Babs, Plucky and Shirley stayed together. Here and there they talked…about how wonderful their “vacation” was (up until they were awakened by their steward tonight)…about the impending loss of their luggage and subsequent plans of claims against the White Star Line…about this and that. They watched as rocket after rocket lit the surrounding waters. The tilt of the deck made them all uneasy, and the sounds from about only served to amplify their feelings of urgency. But they also knew that as long as they had each other, somehow things would turn out okay. And when they caught strains of waltzes from the _Titanic_’s band they didn’t feel so bad… At last a _Titanic_ crewman cried out, “Excuse me, everyone?! Everyone?! You’ve all been ordered back up to Boat Deck! Could you please begin moving up to Boat Deck? Thank you! We’ll take care of you there!” Quickly, the crowd did as ordered. As Babs ascended the staircase she noticed that, like herself, the others were also having trouble climbing the crooked steps. “*Man*, are these steps weird!” she said out loud to herself. The toons no sooner reached Boat Deck before they were all ordered down again by a crewman. “Just tell us where to go and we will follow!” exclaimed a woman in exasperation. “You ordered us up here and now you’re sending us back!” “Yeah!” joined Babs. “Make up your mind, Sailor Boy! Where do you want us, up or down?!” “Down to Promenade, please!” Grumbling, everyone retraced their steps. When they arrived, the sounding spar was at last being chopped away and Boat 4 lowered to receive passengers. At 1:45 Second Officer Charles Lightoller returned to take charge of the situation, much to the relief of all gathered. Somebody stacked deck chairs to serve as steps and Lightoller took up his position - one foot in Boat No. 4 and the other on the open windowsill. Quickly, quietly, the men passed their wives, their children, their sweethearts over into the lifeboat…then stood aside. As the crowd moved, it never really occurred to Buster, Babs, Plucky or Shirley that all the male passengers weren’t entering Boat 4. Until, that is, the four approached to be loaded. They did so, and Buster helped Babs up the makeshift staircase. As Lightoller started to help her into the lifeboat, Buster stepped up to follow her in. Lightoller cut him short with the dreaded words which would seal both his and Plucky’s fates: “I’m sorry, sir. No men are allowed in these boats until the women are loaded first.” “WHAT?!!” cried Babs angrily as she stood on the windowsill. “Whaddaya *MEAN* they can’t come with us?! They’re our BOYFRIENDS, for cryin’ out loud!! It’s *just* the four of us! They’re all we have! They *have* to come with us!” Abruptly, she hopped back onto deck. “I’m sorry, miss. Captains orders. Women and children first,” Lightoller explained. Babs’ eyes narrowed. “Okay, then, what’s to become of our boyfriends?!” she growled. Buster knew he had to diffuse the situation, and fast. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Hey, hey, Babs! Settle down, toots,” he said reassuringly. “You and Shirley both get in. There’s another ship nearby. By now they should be about here. We’ll just meet up with you later. Plucky an’ I’ll be alright.” “Is that true, Plucky? About this other ship?” Babs asked warily. “Yeah! I mean, you can see it yourself, right on the horizon over there,” Plucky said, pointing and smiling his best politician’s smile. “But, like, what about you guys?” Shirley asked, still not fully reassured. “I mean, what’re you guys going to do, or some junk?” “You don’t think we’re gonna ride this puppy into the drink, do ya?” asked Plucky easily. “We’re getting our tails off of here, don’t you worry. There are more lifeboats upstairs. We’ll just get in one of those! You girls go ahead.” “Come on, please! There isn’t a moment to lose!” Impatience was clearly creeping into Lightoller’s voice. Both couples quickly embraced, then kissed one last quick kiss goodbye. “Don’t worry, Babsie,” Buster whispered. “We’ll be together again. Always remember that, uh, I love you.” “Oh, Buster, I love you, too.” Good-byes for Plucky were no less easier. “Listen, Shirl,” he whispered. “I’m…sorry ‘bout earlier tonight. Don’t worry sweetheart; we’ll be together again. You’ll see. I really do love you.” “Oh, darling, I love you, too.” “Hurry, please, there isn’t much time!” Lightoller interrupted. Buster and Plucky helped their sweethearts up and watched them enter the lifeboat. Then they, like all the other men, stepped aside. Then came the Ryerson’s turn. After some dispute about whether or not their 13-year-old son could enter into the boat with his mother, Lightoller asked if there were any other women or children. Instantly, an idea hatched in Plucky’s brain. Before Buster knew what had happened, Plucky spun around and emerged dressed as a woman. But Buster was not fooled. “Plucky, what’re you *doing*?” he asked in angry disbelief. “Shhh! Buster! Don’t give me away!” Plucky hissed. “Whaddaya doing? Pretending to be girl just to get into a lifeboat?!” “Listen, Buster, now’s our last chance –“ “No! No! You listen!” Buster interrupted, his voice rising. “For cryin’ out loud, Plucky! Be a man for the first time in your life! Look around you! Look how many other guys have lost their girlfriends! They’re still here!” “They’re all fools!” Plucky snorted. “They’re staying because they’re not smart enough to find a way off! But *this* little green duck *is* smart enough!” “Plucky, Plucky, think about the consequences of your actions!” Buster pleaded. “I get rescued.” “Maybe! But do you think *Shirley* will have anything to do with you once she finds out you came off as a *coward*?” “She’s probably expecting it from me. Cowardice I can live with. Death is a far deeper issue.” “Plucky!” Buster spat. “She’s *not* expecting *this*! You may get out of this alive, but you should know as well as I that she won’t have anything to do with you when she finds out you were a coward. Babs won’t have anything to do with you! An’ if *I* make it out of this, *I* won’t have anything to do with you, either! No, Plucky! This isn’t the way to go! We’ll have to find some other way off!” Plucky could see that Buster was right. He didn’t want to lose Shirley. He didn’t want to lose his friendships with Buster and Babs. And he *certainly* didn’t want to lose the new-found fame he felt he had in that new entertainment medium called motion pictures, which he knew would happen when his antic was found out. No, there had to be another way. Plucky sighed, then spun around. Reemerging in his former clothes he had a contrite look on his face. “You’re right, Buster. I’m…sorry.” Buster smiled and patted Plucky’s shoulder. Finding no other women (real or otherwise), Lightoller ordered No. 4 lowered. It was now 1:55 and the sea, normally a considerable 50 feet away from Promenade Deck, was only 15 feet down. As the lifeboat creaked its way down to the water, Buster and Plucky made their way over to an open window and leaned far out of it, looking down for their loves. They found them, and called out to them: “Babs!” “Shirley!” “Buster!” “Plucky!” “If it gets too crowded in that lifeboat, just throw your hat out and sit in it!” Buster yelled down to his sweetie. “That hat should be big enough for the both of us!” “Not for *that* remark, you cad, you *rake*!” Babs called up, playfully. “I’ll push you out!” Perhaps inspired by Buster, Plucky likewise had to add a last remark: “And don’t forget, Shirl, you still owe me that dance from tonight!” “Like, you got it, Plucky!” Buster and Plucky waved them goodbye. As they did so, Plucky asked out of the corner of his mouth, “Do you really think that that other ship is gonna make it here in time?” “Do you really think we have a shot of making it into a lifeboat with all these other people on board – *if* there’s any lifeboats left?” Buster returned sardonically, also out of the corner of his mouth. Plucky hadn’t a reply. They watched as Lifeboat No. 4 was released from its davit falls and started pulling away from the ship. Plucky pulled back inside the window and tugged Buster’s coat sleeve. “Come on!” he said. “What?”“We’ve gotta get the hell off this ship, that’s what!”“What did you have in mind?”“I dunno, but we can’t stay here!”“That’s for certain! Upstairs?”“Yeah, I think so.”Buster and Plucky wended their way forward to the staircase. Upon reaching the top, the scene that met them could best be described as chaotic. Masses of toons crowded the area around the lifeboat davits, all pushing and shoving their way into Collapsible D, fitted onto the davits that Lifeboat No. 2 used. Besides Collapsibles A and B (which were still uselessly lashed to the roof over the officer’s quarters), D was the last boat left for almost 1500 people. Panic was ensuing and the crew was taking no chances; they locked arms and allowed only women and children through. More than once Lightoller had to warn the crowd back with a wave of his revolver. Yet the lights still continued to burn, and the ship’s band still tore out hot ragtime music. Buster and Plucky took in the scene from their vantage point under the awning covering the stairs. “Cripes, Plucky! There’s no *way* we can get into a boat! We can’t even get through here!” “Yeah…” Plucky looked to the roof and observed knots of men still working furiously at the collapsibles tied down there. “And I don’t think we have a shot at those up there, either,” he said, pointing. “Come on, Plucky! There’s got to be more boats left! We’ll just have to go downstairs, cross over an’ come up the Grand Staircase, and see if we can get through through the entrance onto deck.” “Alright…”As Lifeboat No. 4 awkwardly pulled away from the ship, an amazing sight met its occupants – the _Titanic_ well down at the head. Seated at the very stern of the lifeboat Shirley and Babs could scarcely believe their eyes. At Southampton the _Titanic_ seemed so tall and powerful she seemed to hold up the very sky. Now they watched as seawater poured over the railing on C-Deck, and into the open square portholes behind. Babs looked at the flooded forecastle and saw only the forward mast, emergency anchor crane, rigging and tops of the forward cargo cranes sticking out of the water. Somehow it reminded her of the Acme River back home when it floods every spring. “Oh, Babs, this is terrible!” Shirley wailed as she observed the action taking place on the _Titanic_’s decks. “I’m getting, like, *totally* hostile vibes from this! I don’t see any ship around here! And I don’t see any other boats being put off the ship, either! I think our boyfriends, like, made all that up, or some junk!” “Listen, Shirley,” Babs said in a voice loaded with emotion. “We’ve got to be strong. We’ve got to believe that they’re alright. As long as the ship is above water we’ve got to believe that they’re alright. That they’ll *be* alright! And that they'll join us later on." "Yeah, you're, like, right, Babs." Looking aft Shirley uttered awestruck, "Omygod! Look at *that*..!" Babs turned and noticed the stern, which had risen so far out of the water that the colossal propellers were half exposed. "Shirley," she managed in wonder, "that is one thing we'll never see again in our lives…" Walking aft on the Boat Deck, Plucky and Buster were also finding out that there were no other boats left. "This is *nuts*, Plucky!" said Buster angrily. "There's nothing left for us to get off the ship with!" It was just after 2:05 and the tilt in the deck was becoming pronounced. Barrels, deck chairs - even people - were beginning to litter the water. Five minutes ago Collapsible D - the last usable lifeboat of all - was lowered away, and once it was gone a curious calm came over the _Titanic_. People started flowing aft, staying as far away from the railing as possible as they went. And while the aft Well Deck and neighboring Poop Deck were normally Third Class open space only, suddenly they became popular places for toons of all three classes. Buster and Plucky stopped to take in the scene around them. Plucky noticed a sudden increase in population on the Boat Deck. "Where did all these people come from?" he asked. "There weren't that many up here before, I know *that*!" Buster looked and noticed that there did indeed look to be an increase in toons present. He observed the way they were dressed, which was far more cheaply and plainly than those in First Class. Suddenly, it hit him, and his eyes opened wide. "Steerage, Plucky!" he cried. "Third Class steerage! Look at the clothes they have on, Plucky! These aren't First Class passengers – they aren’t even Second Class! They're Third Class!" "Third Class?" asked Plucky. "What're they doin' up here – *now*? Where were they before?" Buster thought for a moment, then began to pale. "Good God! The gates!" Plucky didn't seem to understand. "Gates..?" "The gates, Plucky! Remember after dinner we were going to go down to Third Class and put on a show but we couldn't get down there because the gates were all locked? Don't you see it, pal? These people were *kept* down below - locked in by those gates!" "And they're only *now* being allowed up here? Good Lord!" Plucky exclaimed. "What are we going to do, Buster? I think we're running out of time!" Indeed, with the deck now so steep that it was becoming difficult to stand, time was indeed running out. From inside the ship cracking sounds, like china breaking, were heard. The lights, while still lit, weren't burning as brightly as before. "Do you think we could jump and float on any debris?" Plucky asked hopefully. Buster walked a few steps over to the railing next to the empty davits for Boat No. 10 and peered over, down the sheer steel cliff of _Titanic_'s hull, to the dark sea far below. "Woo! Not from here!" he said. "It's gotta be at *least* 70 feet down to the water! Besides, the water's freezing anyway." Plucky joined Buster at the railing and also looked down. "Woo! Man, we're high up!" he said, surprised. "Do you see anything we can use as a raft?" "Uh-uh," Buster said after a short pause. "Nothing that'll hold our weight, anyway. You?" "Uh-uh. C'mon, Buster, you're the one who always has a plan! What're we gonna do?" Buster tapped a finger on his oversized incisors and Plucky tapped his bill, both brows furrowed, both toons thinking hard. "I got it!" Buster said at last. Pointing to a lifeboat visible dimly on the horizon, he said, "See that boat out there? It's gotta be about a hundred yards out. We'll wait until the last moment then swim for it." "That’s it?! That’s your plan?!" "You have a better idea?" "Well…no..." "Alright then! It's not *that* far out. Acme Looniversity's pool is longer than that. Remember that time we had that race last summer? That was 200 yards, and you almost beat me!" "You cheated," Plucky grinned. "Yeah, I guess that'll be the best way. At least I don't see any boats closer, and I *don't* think that those guys up front are going to clear those collapsibles in time!" "We better get closer to the water," Buster urged as he looked fore. "With the deck as it is I don't think we'll want to wait until the ship becomes too steep to stand and we slide into something and hurt ourselves." Thus decided, Buster and Plucky made their way to the bridge. They could hear rumbling, popping and cracking sounds emanating from somewhere below them as furnishings started to upend. At 2:15 Bandleader Hartley tapped his violin and the ragtime set ended. The sweet, slow song "Songe de Autumn" started and flowed out over the deck and into the cold night air. Suddenly, something inside the _Titanic_ let go and the ship seemed to take a lurch forward, the rate of sinking increasing dramatically. The bridge dipped quickly under the water and a wave high enough to ride on began to roll aft. Everyone caught up in it or who weren't nimble enough to jump out of the way found themselves engulfed and washed overboard. At the base of the first funnel, Collapsibles A and B had finally been freed by the crew, but not in time to be of any use to anyone. On the starboard side, someone laid planks against the wall of the officer’s quarters and the men there intended to ease Boat A down bow-first. But with the _Titanic_’s ugly list to port they were having a hard time pushing it to the edge of the deck. When the wave washed over the deck only one person – a sailor – managed to jump in before it simply floated off. On the other side, other crew tried to lower Boat B with the same maneuver as A. In their haste, however, the boat fell and landed on deck upside down. A few sailors worked feverishly to right it but when the wave hit, crew and boat together were washed overboard. The sea continued to roll aft, up to the roof over the Grand Staircase. Without warning, the first funnel began to hurtle forward with a metallic shriek and a moan. It smashed the starboard wing of the bridge and struck the water with brutish force, emanating a cloud of sparks and soot. Dozens unfortunate enough to be under the seven- story smokestack were killed instantly, or drowned in the wake it subsequently produced. Buster and Plucky watched stunned as the funnel fell and knew the end was at last coming. "Well, pal, I guess this is it," Buster said quietly then smiled. "Remember, that lifeboat is our goal. Just think of this as a rematch for last summer. And you *know* how you hate to lose!" Plucky chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so." Buster sighed. "Well, it was great working with you," he said. "Likewise."Offering his hand Buster asked, "See you on deck in the morning, Beak Face?" Taking Buster's hand and shaking it warmly Plucky replied, "You got it, Carrot Breath!" Those sitting in the lifeboats and in the water near the ship had ringside seats as the _Titanic_ went into her final death throes. In Boat 4, Shirley could no longer watch; she turned and buried her face in her hands. Babs, however, did look on, transfixed by horror and fascination. It was 2:17. The bow continued to plunge and the stern continued to rise, until the ship sat nearly 45 degrees in the water. The ship’s orchestra stopped abruptly as the deck became too steep for the musicians to stand. They weren’t the only ones. Toons of all class and importance - from the immigrant in steerage to the richest man in First Class - all fell together in one writhing mass. Some slid off the ship. Some jumped, either singly, in pairs or in groups. But most tried to stay on board, clinging to railing, benches, ventilators – whatever would hold them. To those in the water, people seemed to swarm around the stern like bees in a hive, all visible in their white lifejackets. The muffled thuds and sounds of breaking glass grew progressively louder as the stern swung higher and higher. A minute later, the _Titanic_’s lights, which had steadily been growing dim over the past twenty minutes but somehow stayed lit through it all, abruptly went out. They flashed back on then went out for good. A stiff, dry “CRACK!” and a roar sounding like an explosion came from the _Titanic_, and the ship suddenly seemed to right herself as her hull broke in two between the second and third funnels. Scores of people who drifted under the stern or who somehow survived the over 100-foot fall to the water were crushed as thousands of tons of steel came crashing down upon them. For a second, as the _Titanic_ settled back almost to an even keel, many people thought that the ship was going to float and make it after all. But almost as quickly she began to pivot again. Slowly, steadily, a mountain of steel began to rise against the starred sky. Up the _Titanic_ rose, screws gleaming even in the darkness, until she was absolutely perpendicular in the water. From the monstrous black hull came a deafening rumbling, as everything movable came crashing forward – from boiler coal to luggage…from cases of the finest dinner wine to crates of breakfast eggs…from potted palms in the French sidewalk cafe to cut lead crystal glassware in the dining saloons…from Plucky’s travel alarm clock to Shirley’s hair rags in C-38. The stern remained vertical and motionless for what seemed like minutes but in fact was less than 60 seconds, then settled back slightly and began sliding forward - slowly at first, then picking up speed. So fast had she glided that as the sea closed in gently over the flagstaff on the tip of the stern, a slight gulp could be heard. Four reports sounding like gunshots came from somewhere within the _Titanic_ just as she disappeared beneath the surface. By 2:20 she was gone. There presented to those in the lifeboats a spectacle more horrific than that of the ship sinking – the sound of hundreds of toons perishing on the icy black Atlantic. Those who were waterfowl fared better than those who weren't, but with the water temperature at a killing 28 degrees, even waterfowl wouldn't last long. “Pull for your lives or you’ll be sucked under!” cried a crewman in Boat 4, which was closer to the scene than the others. But try as they might to pull away, the fortunate ones in the boats couldn’t get away from – couldn’t escape – the shouting…crying…moaning… freezing…drowning…dying voices in the night. The cries of those in the water formed a nameless, faceless banshee that haunted those in the boats, and would continue to haunt them for the rest of their lives. Seated in the very stern of Boat 4, Babs and Shirley held each other as the nightmarish wails of the dying pierced right through them. Someone handed them each a grey woolen blanket and they both put them on. But as the minutes passed, the cries of the swimmers seemed to get louder and louder - and still no sign of Buster or Plucky. Shirley pressed her hands hard against her ears in a futile attempt to block out the screams which seemed to surround them. "Ohh, this is terrible, Babs! I, like, can't *take* this anymore!" she wailed. Babs herself was unconsciously grinding her teeth at the sounds. "Oh, Shirley, we have to *do* something! Buster and Plucky are out there! We - " Babs was cut short as someone approached. Splashing up, a voice called out which sounded very familiar: "P-p-please l-let m-me in! I'm I'm s-s-s-so cold!" it choked and sputtered. "PLUCKY!!" cried Babs and Shirley in unison. Tears began to form in Shirley's eyes. Outstreached hands helped haul Plucky in, who was so thoroughly exhausted from the cold and the swim over he could barely move from the floor of the boat. Babs and Shirley helped sit Plucky up and Shirley wrapped her blanket around herself and him. "Oh, darling," Shirley said with tears streaming down her cheeks, "I thought I was going to lose you!" She kissed and hugged him hard. "Where's Buster?" asked Babs fearfully. Adrenaline began to pour into her blood and her heart began to race. "Where's Buster, Plucky?" "B-Buster?" stuttered Plucky with chattering teeth. "He-he was r-right b-behind me. We j-jum-jumped before the-the sh-ship went down. We-we were-re swimming to-together. He sh-should be here." Babs' heart moved to her throat as she frantically looked around for her beau. Her eyes watered. "Buster!" she called into the dark. "BUSTERRRR!!" One minute passed. Then two. Then five. Nothing. "Oh, Shirley," Babs moaned. "Where is he?! Where's Buster, Plucky?!" "Like, I don't see him!" "He was right behind me! Where can he be?" As she listened to the cries in the night, her thoughts turned darker. What if Buster *was* still out there? What if Buster ran into someone drowning and they pulled him down? What if he got tired and couldn't go on swimming? What if she lost him..?Rational or irrational, she began to get sick from anxiety. Shirley and Plucky tried to keep her spirits up but found they were fighting a losing battle; privately, they began to think the worse also. A glimmer of hope was soon offered up when impulsive, take-charge Fifth Officer Harold Lowe took it upon himself to round up a few lifeboats and ready one for the sole purpose of going back for survivors. A little after 2:30 he managed to round up Boats 10, 12, D, and finally 4 - all tied together like a string of beads. But it took time to transfer and distribute people to and from the boats, and it seemed a long time before Lowe's group rowed back to the scene of debris and people; it was after three by the time he arrived.In Boat 4, Babs, Shirley and Plucky began to lose hope as they watched Lowe work. By the time he finally *did* leave, the cries of those in the water were beginning to fade. Half an hour later, they faded altogether. For Babs, the anxiety and fear she felt for her boyfriend had only increased as the minutes passed agonizingly by. As the cries diminished, her feeling of loss and loneliness increased, until at last her poor heart couldn't take any more, and she broke down and wept bitterly. Shirley's heart ached when she saw her friend sobbing, and tears welled up in her own eyes. To Plucky she said quietly, "Here, darling. Take the blanket." Wrapping the blanket around her mallard, she then moved under Babs' blanket. Closing the blanket back around the two of them, Shirley held Babs tight, and put her head on Babs' heaving shoulder. The stars were going away now, one by one. Babs lifted her red, swollen eyes to the heavens and observed the vast expanse of stars to be found there. In the absence of a moon or clouds she had never seen so many. It looked like a Christmas card background. As she continued to look, she found she had never seen so many shooting stars, either. But then she remembered an old adage that said that whenever you see a shooting star somebody dies. Then she thought of Buster… A void opened up inside Babs as yet another wave of grief hit her again. She no longer cared if they were rescued or not. With Buster gone, she didn't care about their stage act…about their fledgling movie careers…about school…about her family or friends. No, she no longer cared about anything anymore. With all her soul she wished she could've joined Buster in death. All at once, in her pain-wracked mind, she traveled back…back to different moments of time, in different places in time. Suddenly it was summer again. Back home, in Acme Acres. Very warm. Sun shining brightly, clouds like cotton in the sky. She's riding with Buster, at his side as they motored down a dusty road. Very carefree. Wind running very warm and refreshing through them, through their ears, rustling their clothes…Buster's face turns to her, all lit up in the golden sunshine…."I love you" she says. "I love you, too, Babsie" he says…They get out of his Model T. Buster grabs the picnic basket…Laying with him in the shade. Dozing off in the shade…It's springtime. Warm. Flowers in full bloom in a kaleidoscope of kinds and colors. Walking along, hand-in-hand, sometimes arms around each other, among the flowers…Rafting down Acme River on that overturned table…The time they first met. Snatches of conversation…”Hi! I’m Babs Bunny!” “Hi…I’m Buster Bunny.” “Hey! We have the same last name! No relation, I hope!” “Yeah! I certainly hope not..!” …Their first date…They're in their stateroom again. Hot passion. Buster looks good to her as he slides beneath the covers. He feels warm. "I love you, Babs..!" he sighs (will they be heard?)…It's summer again. Warm. Everything’s so lush and green and alive. Carefree, sun-drenched days. Sweet, passionate evenings… "BABS!! He's still alive! Oh, Babs, he's, like, still alive!" cried Shirley excitedly, snapping her rabbit friend out of her reverie. "Wh-wha?" uttered Babs blankly. She awoke to find herself in a lifeboat in the freezing, lifeless dark. Lifeboat No. 10 had carefully been jockeyed against their own, and now the two boats sat positioned at near-45 degree angle to each other. "He's still alive!! Like, Buster's still totally alive!!" Shirley could hardly contain her excitement, and tears were in her eyes. "He-he's still alive?" Babs whispered, still not quite sure if she was dreaming or it was really true. "Yes! He's still alive! He, like, made it, or some junk!" Shirley sniffed, wiping her bill with her blanket. Babs' face started to come together as Plucky explained, "When this boat came near, Shirl heard someone ask if her husband was aboard and thought to ask if Buster was there, too! He made it! He just made it to the wrong boat!" Quickly Shirley's words sunk in and Babs couldn't contain her joy. "He's still alive! BUSTER!" she called out loudly, looking all around Boat 10. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks - this time, tears of joy. But that joy was to be short-lived. "Here he comes, miss. But he don’t look too good," a crewmember said. As Babs, Shirley and Plucky watched, a figure wrapped completely in a blanket was being handed gently towards them. With some difficulty, Buster was handed over to Shirley and Plucky, who in turn placed him into Babs' loving arms. She flung back the makeshift hood over his head and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Buster, I thought I lost you forever!" Babs blubbered between kisses. "Oh, sweet Buster, I thought I lost you forever...!" But Buster didn't respond in kind. Instead he felt ice-cold to the touch, quiet and limp as a wet rag. If she failed to hold him up, Buster might have fallen out of the lifeboat. He opened his eyes only a little. "Who are you?" he asked softly and vaguely. "Let me be. Who are you..?" "Buster! It's me - Babs!" the bunny tried anxiously. "No relation?…Come on! Wake up, Buster! *Please*!!" "Let me be…Who are you?" Buster mumbled vacantly. His face was totally devoid of any understanding. Babs looked piteously at Shirley. This emotional roller coaster was becoming too much for her to bear! Quickly, wordlessly, Shirley looked Buster over, her internship training at Acme Hospital instinctively taking over. "Oooh, Babs," she said seriously. "He, like, has advanced hypothermia. I don’t think this breeze which has, like, just sprung up is helping things either, or some junk. Is he shivering hard?" "No…He's kinda twitching a little." Shirley grit her teeth. "Ohh, that's bad. It's mondo advanced. We've got to warm him and, like, *mondo* quickly," she said, “or he’s a goner.” Desperately she tried to keep from becoming emotional. "What'll we do?" Shirley thought quickly. "Here, Babs. Wrap yourself around him and hold him tight. You'll have to use your body to warm his. I'll put your blankets around you." Babs did as Shirley directed. Then Shirley wrapped first Babs' warm blanket, then Buster's cold blanket around them. "Now we wait…And pray," Shirley whispered. Moments later, about 3:30, a tired but enthusiastic cheer arose from some of the outlying lifeboats. Quickly, it spread across the water to reanimate all the boats: "It's a ship! On the horizon! It's coming for us!" someone yelled excitedly. Everyone in Boat 4 gave out worn yells of relief. All eyes looked to the southern horizon and saw first one, then two small lights, then a green light. A red light followed, then rows of lights. Very soon it became clear - a big liner was indeed coming fast, firing rockets along the way to assure the _Titanic_'s people that help was quickly en route. Some survivors fabricated makeshift torches and set them afire. Fifth Officer Harold Lowe burned a green flare. Someone else waved a cane with a miniature electric light. The other ship was the Cunarder _Carpathia_, bound from New York to the Mediterranean. A small, plodding liner, the _Carpathia_'s passenger list consisted of mostly elderly American tourists and Italians and Slavs returning home. Upon receiving the _Titanic_’s distress calls however, her Captain Arthur Rostron ordered an abrupt change of course. Rostron knew that the _Carpathia_’s top speed was only 14 1/2 knots - too slow to reach the _Titanic_ before she sank. But with a lot of urgent effort, her engines were now pounding out 17. Babs saw the ship making for them and immediately felt renewed hope, as did Shirley and Plucky who kissed and held each other tight when the _Carpathia_ came into view. She knew Buster probably didn't hear her or understand, but she was going to try anyway: "Look, Buster! A ship's coming! C’mon, make it, sweetheart! You've gotta hold on and make it..!" It was a long half hour that followed. The night, which had seemed so endless, was finally beginning to grey. Eventually the sky began to lighten with warm shades of pink and gold, and those in the lifeboats could finally make out the lines of the _Carpathia_ as she came barreling up from the south. At 4:00 she was in the vicinity. Babs waited and watched in anxious anticipation as she continued to hold Buster. It was sheer torture to her looking at this ship so far away and Buster slowing dying in her very arms! She prayed that he would hold on. Shirley, Plucky and Babs watched the _Carpathia_ gradually draw to a halt far in front of them. Shirley asked Babs, “Like, how’s Buster? Has he started to shiver yet, or some junk?” “No!” Babs replied worriedly. “He stopped twitching and hasn’t been doing anything.” Gently she shook him. “Buster? Buster!” she called. No response. Babs shook him a little harder. “Buster! Buster! Wake up, sweetheart!” Buster gave a short, low moan. Frantic, Babs shook him still harder, her voice rising. “C’mon, Buster! Wake up! It’s me, Babs! … Buster!” This time, Buster didn’t open his eyes. Instead he simply mumbled softly and incoherently. Babs’ eyes began to water. “This is bad, isn’t it?” she asked Shirley, her voice barely audible. Tears began to form in Shirley’s eyes, too. All she could do was nod. Plucky was a strangely passive figure throughout most of this. Near tears himself, he reached across and patted Buster’s knee. “C’mon, Buster!” he said, his voice cracking. “Stay with us! Don’t leave us now...!” As the sun’s golden rays intensified and continued to push the night farther into the west, the _Carpathia_ came better into view. Shirley thought the ship looked so small compared to the _Titanic_. As they watched smoke belch out of the _Carpathia_’s lone funnel Plucky – and especially Babs – wondered why, with the new light of dawn, the liner couldn’t start it’s engines and nudge closer to them. But Rostron couldn’t discern the _Titanic_’s lifeboats from the vast field of ice in the pre-dawn light, so he stopped his ship just in front to the first few lifeboats for safety. The rest would have to row over. Babs watched helplessly as the _Carpathia_ sat at a dead stop some 800 yards away. She saw other boats were already drawn alongside, with toons being pulled up and inside to rescue. But her Boat 4 seemed to make painfully slow progress, and Buster was slipping farther and farther away from her. She knew she had to do something. But what? She ground her teeth as the minutes passed, the tension mounting as each on ticked on. At last she couldn’t take it anymore! “Can’t we row any faster, people?! My boyfriend’s not gonna make it!” she called out loudly. “We’re rowing as fast as we can!” someone shot back coldly. The acrid reply cut Babs like a knife. Normally one who would’ve taken that as a challenge, Babs no longer had any fight left in her. “That’s okay, Babs,” Shirley comforted. “He, like, didn’t mean it. This ordeal has, like, everyone’s centers out of whack, or some junk.” The look on Babs’ face seemed to say, “Thanks, dear friend. I needed that!”Babs held Buster tighter. “Please, God,” she prayed fervently, desperately. “*Please* don’t take Buster away from me!…*Please* don’t take him away...!” The morning of Monday, April 15 promised a beautiful day. As the sun just edged over the horizon, its warm rays pushed the night completely out of the west and colored the sky gold and blue. The icebergs on the bright blue sea were a dazzling white, mauve, pink or deep blue, depending on how the light hit them and the shadows fell. Chunks of ice floated everywhere. Some were the size of a person’s fist, while others in the background towered more than 100 feet tall. The scene was very much like something out of a children's book about the Arctic. On board the _Carpathia_, _Titanic_ survivors worked at settling into their new accommodations. Passengers from the _Carpathia_ lent blankets, linens, even their clothes and staterooms - anything that would provide a little comfort to the spent toons from the _Titanic_. Many people - mostly wives - were led away from _Carpathia_'s rail once the ship restarted her engines. They parted from their husbands on board the _Titanic_ and, once rescued, stayed at the _Carpathia_'s railing, hoping against hope of seeing their men alive again. Now they went inside…as widows. Survivors continued to anxiously search among themselves. Occasionally, loved ones would joyously find each other, and many a tender moment followed. But for the vast majority, however, the search for family or friend would be in vain. Of the 2228 aboard the _Titanic_, only 705 would arrive back in New York alive. Inside the _Carpathia_'s small two-bed infirmary Buster lay on a soft, warm bed, hands carefully folded on top of the bed sheets placed up to his neck. Next to the bed, a bowl of warm soup waited on top of a little nightstand placed between beds, and in front of that a chair rested. Babs entered the room, moved the chair over, and stood at the side of the bed, hands on her hips. Then she sat down on the bed, next to Buster's head, with her back against the white metal headboard. Gently she caressed his cheek with the backs of her fingers. Buster opened his eyes, and found her smiling lovingly down at him. "Hey, toots," she said quietly. "Hey," Buster smiled weakly. "You hungry? I have some warm soup for you." "Okay…" Babs reached over and drew the bowl near. Quickly she found the aroma too inviting! "Mmmm, that smells good! I'd forgotten how hungry I am!" she said and gingerly took in a spoonful. "Mnnn..!" Buster watched as his sweetheart took a quick second, then an even quicker third spoonful. Too weak to stop her, he could only mew, "Shouldn't *I* be getting some of that?" By now Babs was enjoying his meal with gusto. "Mm, get your own!" she managed with a full mouth. "That *is* my own." Instantly she froze, mouth wide open and spoon in position to enter. Slowly she rolled her pale blue eyes over to him. Then she laughed. "Sorry, Buster, I just couldn't *help* myself!" Carefully she fed her love a spoonful, making sure she didn't spill any on him or the immaculately white bed linens. "Dr. McGhee said that this is just the thing for you." "Are you my nurse now?" Buster asked as a coy smile crossed his face. "Yes I am," returned Babs with an impish smile. "Or would you prefer Hello Nurse - and before you answer that just remember that I can take away your life just as quickly as I can save it!" "Uhh, I think I'd like you very much." "Good boy!" Babs giggled. She continued, both with Buster's meal and her train of thought: "Seriously, though, I really thought I was going to lose you back there…I was just going insane with the thought of it. We were all scared." "You, Shirley and Plucky?" "Mm-hm." Buster grinned sheepishly. "To be honest, when I first woke up and saw you, I thought you were an angel." (gulp) ”You seemed so beautiful." After a couple of mouthfuls he added, "I wouldn't want to leave this life…without you, Babs." Babs paused, smiled, then placed a soft, tender kiss on his forehead. A knock at the door intrusively broke the moment. "Come in!" called Babs. Plucky and Shirley entered. "Hey, hey, Buster!" greeted Plucky. "Like, hiya, Buster! Feeling a little better now?" "Yeah, I think so, guys. Thanks," Buster said. With difficulty he turned a little to his side. Shirley sat on the bed next to Buster's. "Just take it easy, pal," Plucky said, patting Buster's covered ankle. "Why, it was only a few hours ago that you were almost a frozen bunnysicle." As Babs continued to feed Buster Plucky backed up and threw himself on the bed next to Shirley. The force of his feathered rump hitting the mattress almost catapulted Shirley off the bed, prompting her to whack her inconsiderate duck across the chest and recoiling him against the wall. A loud "knock!" rang out as Plucky's skull met the steel wall. "OOphh!...Hey!" managed a dazed Plucky. Stars and steamships could be seen circling his head. Shaking them off he quickly came back to his senses. "What was *that* for?!" "Like, that was for acting like a duck-toad, you duck-toad!" replied Shirley, trying to straighten herself out again. Babs chuckled at the action going on beside her. Buster was too weak to laugh outright, but he shook with mirth nonetheless. "Come, darling. Be a good boy and eat your soup," Babs said after a pause. "What was the last thing you remember about last night anyway? I forgot to ask you." Buster swallowed his mouthful then turned his head, thinking. "Uhh…The last thing I remember was swimming… Plucky and I jumped just before the _Titanic_ went down, when it became too steep to stand. I remember we were swimming together, but somebody reached out and grabbed me… They started to pull me under and I had to kick 'em a few times before they let me go. I lost sight of Plucky but I did see another lifeboat. Oooohh, that water was cold!" - Buster shivered as he recalled - "I kinda remember swimming up beside it, an' I vaguely remember getting pulled in… But that's all I remember. Until I woke up in here… How long was I out?" "A long time!" said Babs, stirring the bowl and feeding him another spoonful. "You were lucky. Dr. McGhee said that there aren't many people who could've survived the exposure you did, and for as long as you did." "Looks like I won our little swimming contest," said Plucky. "But any time you want a rematch, I'm game - only make sure it's not in freezing cold water!" "Okay, Plucky," smiled Buster. "Are we headed home yet? When are we going to get back to New York?" "Well, that's the thing," explained Babs. "I think we're at the place where _Titanic_ went down first to see if there's anyone left and then I think we're going home. There was another ship out there." "No, we're just left there," Plucky cut in. "We talked to a crewman. He said we're heading to New York now." "Did he say when we're going to arrive?" asked Babs. "He thought Thursday night now." "Where are you guys going to stay until then?" Buster asked. "*Totally* cosmic!" enthused Shirley. "Our stars are, like, aligned on that one! There's this wonderfully nice couple who agreed to, like, put us up, or some junk! An' their neighbors have an extra bed for, like, you, too, Babs! We can stay with them until we get to New York!" "Really? Wow," said Babs. "But Dr. McGhee said that as long as he doen't get anyone else who needs that bed I could stay in here, with Buster, until he gets strong enough to leave on his own. He said that you'll be up and around in a few days, Buster. So I guess by the time we get back to the states you'll be able to walk off on your own!" "That'd be fine with me," Buster said between spoonfuls. "But how do we get back to Acme Acres? Our train tickets went down with the ship, didn't they? I didn't think to grab ours. Did you?" "Yeah, but it doesn't really matter, 'cause that's, like, copaesthetic too, or some junk!" Shirley crowed. "Not only are these people we're staying with from California, but they've seen our stage act and nickelodeons! They're, like, big fans of ours! -" "*I'm* their favorite!" Plucky interrupted with over-importance. "Get real, Pluck-face! Like, Mr. Turner likes Babs best!" Shirley fired back, trying to tone his rapidly-inflating ego down a notch. "Anyway, they said they'll be happy to lend us the money for replacement tickets, or some junk! And the people next to them are willing to, like, lend us a change of clothes, or money to buy clothes. Like, can you believe it?!" "Give us money for replacement tickets?" asked Babs in disbelief. "Are they rich? That's a lot of money!" Shirley opened her bill to speak but Plucky stole her answer: "Yeah, they're rich! I think the guy owns a couple of Buick car dealerships or something. They're well off!" "Careful, Plucky, your eyes are becoming the same color as your feathers," quipped Buster. Then to Babs he said, "No more soup, Babsie. I've had enough." "No! One more mouthful!" Babs ordered with a grin. "Well, there is one good thing to come out of this thing." "Like, what's that?" "No papers to do when we get home! All our notes went down with the ship, didn't they?" Everyone seemed to agree. "Say, that's right!" Plucky said and laughed. "What a relief!" "You can say that again," said Babs. "I was dreading having to do that stupid thing anyway!" Suddenly Shirley felt very sad. "Oh, Babs," she said in a tone that brought everyone's feelings down, "there's, like, so much else that went down, too. Like, all those people, or some junk. There're so many people upstairs who've lost everything to them. And I'm totally not talking about, like, luggage, or some junk. There's, like, so many women who've lost their husbands or boyfriends or brothers and junk. Seriously. I getting mondo sad vibrations right now, and my aura is, like, heartbroken…" "True," said Buster. "But at least *we* made it. Didn't I say last night on board the _Titanic_ that we'd be together again? Through thick and thin we've stayed together. We *have* each other. And as long as we have each other - as long as we have our friendships - we can get through anything life throws at us. So let the world go to hell, I say! As long as we have each other, we won't even know the difference!" Feeling a little better, Babs, Shirley and Plucky nodded in agreement. * * * July 6, 1998