Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 Phoebe wasn't taking any chances with George. "I'm not letting you out of my sight," she announced after they'd finished breakfast. "I'm your guardian angel." "I didn't know angels wore spectacles," he said, tugging on one of Phoebe's curls. "The smart ones do," Phoebe said, grabbing George's arm. She offered him a lemon drop from the little silver tin she'd been carrying around since London. George made a face. He hated those old-lady candies.

George wanted to go find Marco and Enzo and hear more about Italy. He wanted to ride the elevators up and down. Hardly any other ship in the world had elevators! Better yet, he wanted to find Mr. Andrews, the ship's designer. When Mr. Andrews had stopped by their table at dinner the first night, George thought he was just another boring millionaire coming over to kiss Aunt Daisy's hand. But Mr. Andrews was different. "You built the Titanic?" said George. Mr. Andrews smiled. "Not by myself. It took thousands of men to build her. But I did design her, that's true." He invited George and Phoebe to come with him to the first class writing room. He unrolled the ship's blueprints across a long, polished table. It was like looking at the skeleton of a giant beast. "She's the biggest moving object ever built," Mr. Andrews explained. "Fourteen stories tall. Forty-five thousand tons of steel. And longer than four city blocks."

"Our aunt says nothing bad can happen to this ship," Phoebe said. "People say it's unsinkable." "No ship is safer," Mr. Andrews said. "That is certainly true." "What if the Titanic was hit by a meteor?" said Phoebe, whose latest obsession was outer space. She was determined to see a shooting star before they docked in New York. Mr. Andrews didn't laugh or roll his eyes like Mr. Landers did when Phoebe asked her questions. "I hadn't planned on any meteors hitting the ship," Mr. Andrews said thoughtfully. "But I'd like to think she could take almost anything and still float." Phoebe seemed satisfied. "Are there any secret passages?" said George.

Mr. Andrews studied his blueprints, and then pointed to the boiler rooms. "There are escape ladders," he said. "They run up the starboard side of the ship, up two decks, through the stokers' quarters, and into their dining hall. I hear the crew likes using them instead of the stairs." George could have stayed there all night. He asked a million questions and Mr. Andrews answered every single one. "I was like you when I was a boy," Mr. Andrews said just before Aunt Daisy came to haul

George off to bed. "One day I predict you'll build a ship of your own." George knew that would never happen. He could barely get through a day at school. But he liked that Mr. Andrews said it. And he sure wanted to find those secret ladders. But Phoebe had different ideas. First she dragged George to the first class library so she could check out a book on Halley's comet. Then she took him on a walk on the boat deck. He felt like a dog. "Strange," Phoebe said, looking at the lifeboats that hung just off the deck. "There are only sixteen boats. That's not nearly enough for everyone." "The ship's unsinkable," George said. "So do we really need lifeboats at all?" Phoebe stared at the boats and shrugged. "I guess you're right," she said. And then she announced that it was time to see how many ladies were wearing hats with blue feathers. George groaned. This would be the most boring day of his life. But at least nobody was yelling at him.