Jack’s Point of View
I had just won third class tickets to the now sailing ship of Titanic. That was all that was running through my head as I stared at the wooden table, unbelievably.
Was I dreaming? Was this truly reality?
It took a moment for the comprehension of what had just happened to flow in.
“I’m sorry, Fabrizio.” I had said to my friend. Decided to pull a good joke on him, let us see how he reacted. I turned my eyes towards him, meeting his confused eyes still on the poker cards in his hands.
He shot me a confused, angry face and began babbling nonsense in Italian.
I smiled, “I’m sorry, but you aren’t going to see your mother in a long time.”
His expression suddenly switched from being an angry Italian, to a grinning Italian. “‘Cause we’re going to America!”
My voice drifted into a loud excited shout, as I slammed my hand onto the wooden table, and watched as our faces illuminated with happiness.
I must admit, we went a bit too far at how crazy we went that moment.
We stood on our feet and began yelling like mindless people.
Rubbing our tickets on the losing team’s faces.
“Whoohoho!” I yelled as Fabrizio and I began to jump and hop around the table.
But suddenly, the joy was all over, as fast as a blink’s eye, Olaf grabbed my collar and pulled my face close, and he mumbled words.
Words I did not even understand. His face was up so close, I could see his wrinkles, his disgusting yellow teeth, I could smell his breath– disgusting.
I ducked my face as I watched his fist coming towards me, but then Olaf threw his fist towards Sven instead.
I could see how disappointed they were at losing, I kind of even felt bad for them. They lost their tickets to the Titanic, the biggest ship ever built. Now, instead Fabrizio and I won their tickets.
We were the lucky bastards now. I turned around to look at Fabrizio, and the laughing crowd.
We began to laugh all together.
“Figlio di puttana!” Fabrizio laughed, as he cursed in Italian. He raised his thick brown eyebrows, deep emotion on his face, along with a shrug of shoulders and a raise of hands.
He always used gestures only Italians used.
He was my closest friend, I had met him when I moved from Austria to Italy.
You see, I always made my way through country after country.
It was how people were meant to live, appreciating the world around them.
Not staying in one place forever. That was called not living at all.
I grabbed the two yellow tickets from his hand, and kissed the sweet smelling piece of paper. It smelt of victory.
“I’m going home!”
I shouted, then grabbed Fabrizio into a great big hug. We let go, but the fuss continued.
“I’m going to America!” Fabrizio shouted, in a deep Italian accent.
People starred, actually stopped what they were doing to look at us. I did not care, though. I knew I was calling a lot of attention with all the shouting, and jumping.
But this second, just once in my life, I felt like I could do whatever I wanted and not even care. I could even walk around naked and not care– I was that happy.
Then, out of the blue, an old looking man from across the room began to speak.
“No, mate. Titanic sets off in five minutes!”
He pointed at the clock on the wooden wall, the bright sunshine casted a shimmering reflection upon the glass of the clock.
I squinted my eyes as I tried to read the numbers.
The sun was too bright, but I could the black narrow hand of the clock point to eleven, the other on fifty five.
It was enough to see that we’d be late, if we don’t run now. My heart began to sink.