The Fish That Live In The Titanic

• Kalina Grabow, Grade 08
• Short Story
• 2016

More than 100 years after the tearful tragedy of the sinking of the Titanic life still goes on in the aged ship. Mabel the lobster lies on what was once Molly Brown’s luxurious bed. He barks orders for some krill off the grill to be brought to him at once. A school of little fish play with coloured seaweed on first class deck. Astor the angelfish listens to the complaints from an unhappy resident complaining about seagrass not being properly cooked while beggarly salmon swim to their favourite tunes below deck. Plants have grown amongst the forgotten ship making a perfect home for creatures of all kinds.
Every day is the same. Everyday Peter the piano playing porpoise plays pleasantly to please the posh pufferfish and everyday Astor an angelfish attends to arguments at a deck about awful assistants and amendments. Every day the servers serve and the rich relax. Even third class seem to find the old Titanic a delightful district.
Everything was normal when Astor talked to the golden starfish with long delicate arms. “I’m very sorry that you disliked the salt water, ma’ ‘am. I will send up some fresh water for you.” Astor tiredly swam to the kitchen to collect some fresh water in a pink spiral shell.
“Astor! Astor!” That voice was panicky. Peter entered the kitchen with troubled eyes, a trembling mouth a pale scale.
“Why Peter! Whatever is wrong?”
“Come with me!” Peter’s words were short and sharp. He led Astor out of the shipwreck and into some reef.
Astor’s eyes flashed closed. “It’s too bright.”
“I think they’re coming back to get their ship, the humans.”
A submersible with bright lights was lowering itself to the bed of the sea.
“We have to get everyone out.” Peter’s kind eyes were still troubled.
“I will do my best.” Astor slowly lifted her eyelids as her eyes adjusted to the vivid waters.
Both knew very well that it wasn’t at all possible to get everyone out before the Titanic ascended up into the human world.
Back inside the ship Astor banged on doors and informed creatures of the urgent unexpected news. “Please hurry to get out. Your life is at hazard. Women and children first. ” As one would expect, the news did not go down well, so to reassure people Peter peacefully played Nearer My God To Thee with as much emotion a porpoise could play. Young women kissed their boyfriends goodbye and they held each other’s fins for what would be the last time. “I love you,” they would say.
When all that was done that could be done Peter stopped playing for one moment to kiss Astor goodbye. “You must go,” he whispered as he put a pearl into her fin. He squeezed her fin one last time and returned to his piano. Sadly, Astor headed for safety and there she watched the submersible approach the ship where Peter was bravely playing the piano. “I love you, Peter.”