Sir Aloyius T. Periwinkle's Mortalia Adventurarium

By Steve Sagarra

Prohibition. Depression. War. On the anniversary of his honorary knighthood for contributions to the field of science and medicine, here now, for the first time in print, is the exclusive memoir of Sir Aloyius T. Periwinkle! From the turn of the century to the beginnings of the Second World War, journey with him as he and his friends attempt to avert humanity’s demise to a growing endemic that turns ordinary people into grotesque creatures of cannibal undead!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steve Sagarra
• Release date: Oct 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310483714

Steve Sagarra

Steve Sagarra is a freelance writer, journalist and historian from St. Louis, MO. A former opinion columnist, he is a proud alum of the University of Missouri where he obtained degrees in history. Additionally, he has contributed to several encyclopedic projects, scholarly journals and websites, and his short story fiction and poetry has appeared in various online and print magazines. Over the years, he has held a colorful variety of jobs – dishwasher, delivery driver, substitute teacher, archeology technician and bartender. In his spare time, he enjoys watching movies, sporting events, the company of his dogs and playing golf.

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Sir Aloyius T. Periwinkle's Mortalia Adventurarium

By Steve Sagarra

Copyright ©2015 Steve Sagarra

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

ISBN: 9781310483714

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Sir Aloyius T. Periwinkle's Mortalia Adventurarium,

As told to and transcribed by Ms. Abigail Schultz upon the occasion of his honorary knighthood to the Order of Meritorious Grandeur by the International Fellowship of Fellows for his contributions to the field of science and medicine.

Chapter One

Having never lost exuberance for familiarity, I always relished being called Al by most everyone. Even now, as a purportedly distinguished gentleman of scientific letters and merit. Born in Shrewsbury, England, I had quite an experience growing up. Orphaned at a young age, it was not an uncommon happenstance given the diseases and displacements that contributed to a considerable brood of such. Like a bag of freshly roasted groundnuts all jumbled and tossed together. We identified in each other agreeable character and temperament that bonded us not only to our own self-reliance but also as a group in common cause against authority figures and social pressures.

And there was much excitement to witness the turn of the century, such expectation had by all. Unequivocally, what a grand time to have been alive.

Granted, I had been alive only for a handful of years when it occurred, but nonetheless thrilling.

Starting in my earliest years, I was employed in many odd jobs throughout my youth. Newsboy, coal delivery, grocery clerk. Whatever could earn a capable yet fledgling youth such as myself a nickel. A work ethic that would serve me quite well, especially as I embarked on traveling the world. Hoping to attend medical school in the United States, I found opportunity as a young porter on what would become the fateful maiden voyage of the RMS Titanic.

And, notably, was on hand when Captain Edward Smith made the decision to sink her.

For obvious reasons, the official story always has claimed, accurately, that she hit an iceberg. Any subsequent accounts mentioning other factors either were buried or outright dismissed as delusion attributable to the traumatic chaos. Trust me, though, something much more sinister than man’s hubris had been brought on board: a deadly affliction that, as it were, made everyone equal in the end. Late on the evening of April 14, 1912, Captain Smith coordinated a meeting with his remaining officers and crew, including myself, that affirmed the dire situation. I actually was not supposed to be on the bridge at the time, but I always have been sort of a pragmatist when it comes to being informed about situations.

Gentlemen, Smith firmly began. Clearing his throat, he continued. "Gentlemen, Titanic can never reach port. She is lost to whatever vile epidemic has overrun her. Therefore, I plan to sink her on an iceberg."

Searching the faces of my fellow crewmembers, we regarded each other in knowing shock. In his entire 45-year seafaring career, the captain had never uttered such a grave proclamation.

Mr. J. Bruce Ismay, his mouth agape, fiercely disagreed with the decision.

Sink her? Are you mad? We must make port! Our deadline–

Sir, I am the captain of this vessel, and I say our deadline is upon us!

But, my headlines–

Headlines be damned! They will read massacre if we do not act promptly!

The captain sternly contemplated us, striving to steel our morale.

Mr. Andrews is working on a way to strategically flood the lower compartments while still staying afloat for as long as needed. I request volunteers to remain with the ship until we can disembark surviving passengers in whatever lifeboats remain. The rest of the crew will go with them.

An austere consensus came over us, with only a few tempered dissents.

Aye, aye captain.

Prepare the ship. We'll send out distress calls to any nearby vessels, including using the new code. Perhaps that will hasten rescue. Dismissed gentlemen.

Yes, dear friends, Captain Edward Smith intentionally ran the noble Titanic into an iceberg to save not only as many passengers as possible, but ultimately humanity as well. To the bitter end, I am sad to report.

I remember last seeing Captain Smith at the windows of the bridge, admiring the view beyond the ship’s deck as we launched the lifeboats. No doubt, he reflected on his longevity at sea. His first officer, Will Murdoch, lay on the floor next to him, a gushing wound in his neck from being bit – and a fatal self-inflicted gunshot at