B. Write a summary of about 50 words describing the pandemonium in the dining room.
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The phone, which lay beside her in bed, began to ring.
“Gerry, I can’t talk now,” she said, “I’m in the middle of a movie. Call you later?”
She was watching a rental of “A Night to Remember,” the first film ever made about the sinking of the Titanic.
The black and white film she watched on her laptop gave it a gravity that the later films in color did not possess. The magnificent ocean liner came alive on the chill Atlantic, chugging along splendidly on its maiden voyage. How finely appointed were the state rooms, a Ritz-Carlton that sailed the seas. The luxurious sleepers boasted fluffed-up pillows and rose-patterned bedspreads, magnificent dressers with shiny silver handles, vaults containing diamond earrings and tiaras. Dozens of children scampered across the dining room or were shown in loving embraces with their parents. They even had their own playroom. The centerpiece was a huge rocking horse, ribbons tossed through its curly mane.
Amy was certain the horse would be featured again at the end of the film. She was a movie buff and the British director, Roy Baker, made this metaphor perfectly clear. In fact, toward the end of the film the majestic rocking horse would slide gracefully across the bare room, the sea water mounting up its legs, as it swung this way and that, doing a little dance no one but the moviegoer was privy to see.
The hundreds of wealthy individuals on the Titanic’s maiden voyage – like one Mr. Benjamin Guggenheim – had their own valets, pronounced “VAL-ays,” the British way. Amy had studied the opening credits carefully, she often wrote movie reviews on “ScreenSensations.com, and read in bold black letters that the film was made by the acclaimed Pinewood Studios in Great Britain.
The movie was hard to watch. On a couple of occasions, Amy, clad in her comfortable gray sweat pants and pink sweater, closed her eyes, so as not to watch the waters rushing into the boiler room, splashing all the hard-working sailors, as she pressed her hands over her face. She was so afraid they would drown.
The worst part was the lowering of the lifeboats, with everyone clamoring to get aboard, though it was “women and children first.” Their huge light-colored life vests were ridiculous-looking – many people had to be forced to wear the odd-looking things – which went from their shoulders down to their knees and resembled strait jackets. The first class passengers, clasping their hands together, screaming and moaning, stood cheek by jowl, seemingly hundreds of them, waiting to board the life boats. They were guided to step from the ship onto the boat. Many panicked and had to be physically lifted across. Second class and steerage were denied entry by locked doors onto the deck and their screams and protestations could be heard on the deck above.
Finally a group of men, who clearly looked like the underclasses, desperate to save themselves and their families, found axes to smash their way through to the top deck where freedom awaited. Or did it?
All the while, the Titanic was listing terribly to starboard, or the left, and freezing cold sea water was filling up the various state rooms and the spacious dining room – with a clock ticking ominously on a mantel piece – when suddenly hundreds of loaves of bread tumbled off baking racks onto the wet kitchen floor.
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