Marlene Dotterer - Shipbuilder

She thought about it, relieved that he seemed willing to work something out. At least, he wasn’t yelling at her. “He doesn’t know where I live. If I’m not around here and not a threat to him, maybe he’ll just forget about me.”

Tom nodded, but he looked doubtful. “You’ll have to keep an eye out. I will talk to him, though. I’ll make it very clear to him that nothing is to happen to you, or I’ll see that the blame goes to him. I’d like to talk to your guardian, too, and make sure he’s aware of the problem.”

Casey nodded and then looked up at him through tears. “I’m sorry for this, Mr. Andrews. I know it’s inadequate, but I really am sorry. I’ve put you in a terrible position and I had no right to do that.”

A small smile crossed his face and he looked grateful. “I forgive you,” he told her in all seriousness. “But I hope you stop this nonsense, Casey. I know you meant no harm, but you must be who you are. This constant deception has to be bad for your health, and your soul.”

Despondent, she looked at her hands, nodding. “I miss being a girl.”

It was a few moments before he spoke, and when he did, his voice sounded thick, as if something blocked his throat. “You’ve done everything we needed you to do. You have a right to survive, and you have a right to try and better your life. I want to help you. There are jobs you can do as a girl, if it’s work you want. With your education, you should be able to find something that you would enjoy. I can certainly recommend you—your work here has been excellent, once I get past the necessary explanations. Let me ask around. I’m sure I know someone who could use you, or maybe you could go back to school. You mentioned that you were doing that before.”

She nodded. “It would be nice to finish. To study plants again.”

He tilted his head and asked suddenly, “Have you considered marriage?”

This startled her. “Marriage? No, I hadn’t considered marriage.” She added sardonically, “There’s been a real dearth of opportunities.”

His smile was rueful. “I imagine there’d be more if you wore a dress.”

She laughed a little at that. “I’m not opposed to the idea in general, Mr. Andrews. But I’m only twenty-one. I don’t think I’m ready for marriage, yet.”

He nodded again. “I understand. But it’s something to keep in mind. With your guardian’s occupation, and your education, I think you could make a good match. You could marry just about anyone you want.”

You? She thought. No, of course, you’re not even thinking of yourself. She decided to change the subject.

“I’ll keep it in mind. Sam has not said anything about marriage, so I don’t have any idea what his thoughts are. I think he’s just been trying to take care of me and he knows I’m happier if I’m doing something, so he’s always encouraged me to find work.”

“Well, I truly hope he puts a stop to this boy nonsense, Casey. I know things were desperate, but he should never have allowed you to do this.” Tom sounded indignant.

But Casey shook her head. “Sam has never been able to stop me from doing anything. He wasn’t happy about it, truly.” She sighed. “I’m concerned that this will reflect badly on you, since you hired me.”

Tom harrumphed and tilted his head as he looked at her. “Perhaps, but everyone else was fooled, as well. I’ve had a few comments here and there about you, but no one ever suggested they thought you were a girl. Until Sloan, anyway, and he’s always looking for trouble.” A quick smile touched his lips. “You did a good job, pretending to be a boy.”

He tapped the table and Casey jumped a bit. “Go on home, Casey. I’ll have Ham handle the paperwork, and we’ll send you any pay you’re owed. I’ll have to figure out what to tell Lord Pirrie and talk to Sloan. Looks like I’m in for an interesting day.”

She stood. “I really am sorry, Mr. Andrews.”

He waved her away. “You did your job and you did it well. Take some pride in that. Just please, don’t make a habit of this kind of thing. You could make yourself a miserable life, I fear.”

She nodded and turned to go, but abruptly turned back. “Can I say one more thing, Mr. Andrews? This has nothing to do with any of this, and it’s not going to make any sense to you, but I have to give you some warning or I won’t be able to live with myself.”

His eyes narrowed as he gazed at her. “Go ahead.”

She licked her lips and plunged on. “I’ve heard you say that when you build a ship, you think about how it can sink, and that helps you build it so it floats.” His eyes widened. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t this. She continued, somewhat frantically, “Well, just think about a large ship, bigger even than the Adriatic , going too fast, about to hit an iceberg. They try to turn the ship and it misses mostly, but the iceberg scrapes along the side, punching holes for several hundred feet, all under the waterline.” She took a step toward him, pointing at his desk, at the drawings. “You’ll be a Managing Director someday. Build that ship so it doesn’t sink, Mr. Andrews. Especially, if it’s a ship called Titanic . That’s all I know to tell you.” And she turned and left.

November 1906

Tom sat at his desk for several minutes after Casey had gone, staring at the door and trying to comprehend what she had said. His emotions were in such a whirl, he couldn’t concentrate. What did all that mean? The image of a ship scraping along an iceberg sent chills down his spine. He wanted to laugh it off as nonsense, but the scenario Casey described was plausible.

“Going too fast.” What did she mean by that? “A ship called Titanic ”? There was no ship by that name even being considered. Was Casey, perhaps, a bit crazy? A harmless crazy, to be sure, but one that made her pretend to be a boy and then leave random warnings of disaster in her wake? But would craziness like that allow to her work hard and accurately every day?

Tom slowly shook his head, unsure of what to do. How could this happen? How could he not see that she was a girl? All the comments from men in the yard: “He sure is a pretty boy,” or “No growth spurt, yet, eh?” Tom had for the most part ignored these, thinking only that the trueness of them must have meant that life was even more difficult for the lad.

Gullible, Tommy. Gullible, that’s what you are. Always willing to take people at their best. Someone’ll always take advantage of that. Ach, but it’s no good being any other way.

Eventually he came back to his original problem: what to tell his uncle. He almost laughed at that, hearing his own voice exhorting Casey to avoid any further lying. Best take his own advice and just confess his gullibility to Lord Pirrie and have it done. He did take some comfort in the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one taken in by the deception.

He heard Ham come in and sighed. Might as well get it over with, then he could head over to his uncle’s office. He wasn’t going to be able to concentrate on these reports anyway.

Predictably, Ham was astonished when Tom broke the news. His ears reddened as he no doubt considered the odd remark that would never have been made had he known he was talking to a girl. Tom could think of a few unwise comments he’d said himself. Not to mention exposing her to all the rough and tumble of the men in the shipyard. Good men, all of them, but still men, who were assuming there were no women around. They acted a bit coarser under those circumstances.

After a few minutes, Ham recovered. “We were going to keep him on. How’re we going to replace him… I mean her? She was all trained and doing a proper job. Good ideas, too.” Ham sounded miserable; after all, he was going to have to go back to all that running around and extra work.