A LIFE SO CHANGED
Chapter Sixteen

Rose blinks, seeming to come back to the present. She sees the wreck on the screen, the sad ghost ship deep in the abyss.

"That was the last time Titanic ever saw daylight."

"So we’re up to dusk on the night of the sinking. Six hours to go," said Lovett.

"Incredible there’s Smith and he’s standing there with the iceberg warning in his fucking hand--" Remembering Rose. "Excuse me, hand, and he’s ordering more speed," said Bodine.

"Twenty-six years of experience working against him. He figures anything big enough to sink the ship they’re going to see in time to turn. But the ship’s too big, with too small a rudder...it can’t corner worth a damn. Everything he knows is wrong," said Lovett.

Rose is ignoring this conversation. She has the comb in her hands, turning it slowly. She is watching a monitor, which shows the ruins of Suite B-52 turning into Suite B-52 in 1998. Like in a dream the beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery emerge from the rusted ruin.

Jack is overwhelmed by the opulence of the room. He sets his portfolio and drawing materials on the marble table.

"It’s quite proper I tell you. This is the sitting room. Will this light do?" Putting down her key, everyone in the group had their own key.

"What?" Not really hearing her, as he touches the flowers in the vase, sitting on the fireplace.

"Don’t artists need good lights?"

"Zat is true. I am not used to work in such ‘orreeble conditions." In a bad French accent, then he sees the paintings. "Monet!"

"You know his work?"

He crouches next to the paintings stacked against the wall. She is next to him. "Of course. Look at the use of colors. Isn’t he great?"

"I know. It’s beautiful. Dad says it looks cheap."

She goes into the boys’ room at the adjoining walk-in wardrobe closet. He sees her go to the safe and start working the combination. He is surveying the room.

"I can’t believe Dad let me know the combination."

"Should we be expecting him anytime soon?"

"Not as long as they have chapel...it started at seven."

CLUNK! She unlocks the safe. Glancing up, she meets his eyes in the mirror behind the safe. She takes some money out and puts in her pocket, and takes out the box and opens it and removes the necklace, then holds it out to Jack, who takes it nervously. "Nice...yours?"

"No, it’s for my sister...a birthday present from Dad."

"What is it? A sapphire?"

"A diamond. A very rare diamond, called the 'Heart of the Ocean.'"

Jack gazes at wealth beyond his comprehension.

"Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls, wearing this."

"All right." Not getting it.

Okay, here comes the big part, stay calm. "Wearing only this."

He looks up at her, surprised. "Are you sure?"

She looks at him, with no statement. "Yes."

Standing in front of the mirror, with her pink silk robe on, and pulling her comb, the same comb, that Rose had in her hands, and setting it on the table. She shakes her head, and her hair falls free around her shoulders. I’m not ashamed to pose for Jack like this; after all, he is an artist. Taking a deep breath and heading towards the door, she stops. Oh, please let him like my body, for I don’t. I hope I look good, like one of his French girls.

In the sitting, Jack moves the couch besides the fireplace. Jack is laying out his conte crayons like surgical tools. His portfolio is open and ready. He is sharpening one of his conte crayons, when Rose comes into the room. To comfort her ease, she pantomimes a stripper twirling her sash briefly. He smiles, and stunned by her. She walks toward him.

"I have to warn you. I don’t have a perfect body. As a paying customer..." She hands him a hundred dollar bill. He looks at it, surprised. "Don’t ask."

She steps back. "I expect to see what you see." She parts the robe. The blue stone lies on her chest. Her heart is pounding as she slowly lowers the robe. Jack looks so stricken, it is almost comical. The robe drops to the floor. She looks at him, waiting for him to say something, and starts to cover herself with her hands, but moved them away.

"Over on the bed, uh...the couch." Pointing to the couch.

She smirks, and she goes to the couch, and sits down.

"Go on...lie down."

She does and she poses on the couch, settling like a cat into the position they remember from the drawing...almost.

"Tell me when it looks right to you." Removing her arms.

"No, put your arm back where it was." She puts her left arm behind her head. "Put your hand up by your face." She puts her right hand on her forehead. "Head down. Eyes to me. That’s it. And try to stay still."

Rose laughs nervously. Jack sighs big and begins sketching. She notices his statement. "So serious!" Chiding him.

As he sketches, the tension is palpable. She is riveted by his eyes, and he by her form. In his sketch, he begins drawing the form of her face, arms, necklace, and breasts. Jack is losing his seriousness, and Rose knows where he is, because he kept looking, nervously at them.

"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artist. I can’t imagine Monsieur Monet blushing."

He stops, and looks up at her. "He does landscapes." She laughs. "Just relax your face. No laughing."

"Sorry." She exhales loud.

Jack’s eyes come up to look at her over the top edge of his sketchpad. It was the one from her memory. It is an image she will carry the rest of her life.

Despite his nervousness, he draws with sure strokes, and what emerges is the best thing he has ever done. Her pose is languid, her hands beautiful, and her eyes radiate her energy. Slowly on her face dissolves to Rose, eighty-five years old. Only her eyes are the same.

"My heart was pounding the whole time. It was the most erotic moment of my life...up till then at least." With a smile, and was posing too, with her hand on her forehead.

A semicircle of listeners staring in rapt, frozen silence. The story of Jack and Rose has finally and completely grabbed them.

"What happened next?" asked Bodine.

"You mean, did we 'do it'?" Smiling. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Bodine. Jack was very professional."

Jack is signing the drawing. "JULY 14, 1998. JD." Rose wearing her robe again is leading on his shoulder, watching. Rose gazes at the drawing. He has X-rayed her soul. Jack finishes and hands her his portfolio with the drawing inside.

"Thank you." She was not thanking him for the drawing, but saving her from "her world" and caring for her too.

She tries to take the portfolio, but he kept hanging on to it. They fight as they kissed. Finally he lets go, but grabbed her waist, before she could moved, and threw her into his lap. They laugh, and Jack slowly puts his arms around her, and hugged her, and kisses her forehead. Suddenly, Rose slips off, and went to the Boys’ room. She scribbles a note on a piece of Titanic stationary. Jack comes up to her.

"What ya doing?"

"Will you put this back in the safe for me?" Covering the stationary, so he couldn’t see her handwriting.

"Uh huh." He takes the box with the necklace in it, and places it in the safe, and he saw the money too.

Rose comes up to him, as almost close the safe. "Why don’t you go out to the promenade, while I get dress."

"Okay." He kisses her and then goes out, and Rose puts the portfolio in the safe, then wrote something else on a Titanic stationary, and puts it inside besides the portfolio, and closes it. CLUNK! Then she tore half of the stationary and wrote a brief message and taped it on the safe. Then she went to her room to change.

Lewis enters from the Palm Court through the revolving door and crosses the room towards Cal. A fire is blazing in the marble fireplace, and the group are talking, just the men. Cal sees Lewis and detaches from his group, coming to him.

"None of the girls have seen her."

"Good night! There are only so many places she could be. Lewis, find her." In a low voice, but forceful.

TITANIC glides across an unnatural sea, black and calm as a pool of oil. The ship’s lights are mirrored almost perfectly in the black water. The sky is brilliant with stars. A meteor traces a bright line across the heavens.

Captain Smith peers out at the blackness ahead of the ship. Quartermaster Hitchens brings him a cup of hot tea with lemon. It steams in the bitter cold of the open bridge. Second Officer Lightoller is next to him, staring out at the sheet of black glass the Atlantic has become.

"Clear night," said Captain Smith.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a flat calm, in twenty-four years at sea," said Lightoller.

"Yes, like a mill pond. Not a breath of wind."

"It’s make the bergs harder to see, with no breaking water at the base."

"Mmm. Well, I’m off. Maintain speed and heading, Mr. Lightoller."

"Yes, sir."

Jack is looking out the promenade window. He brings his head back and breathes into his hands. Rose, fully dressed now, returns to the sitting room.

"It’s getting cold. You look beautiful."

Rose looks at the promenade window from afar, with a concern look. Suddenly, they hear a knock, and someone calls her name. She cursed and takes Jack’s hand and leads him silently to her room.

"My drawings!" She pulls him harder.

The door opens from the sitting room and there are Lewis, Robby, and Joe.

"Rose?" They go towards the girls’ room, saw her closing her door, with Jack behind her. She saw them.

"Oh, my God. They saw us. Hurry." Rose and Jack come out of the room, closing the door, now they are walking down the corridor towards the B-deck foyer. Jack grabs her hand into his. They laugh softly to each other. They are halfway across the open space when the room door opens and the guys come out. They see Rose and Jack, and hustles after them.

"Come on!" shouted Rose. They break into a run, surprising the few ladies and gentlemen about. Rose leads him past the stairs to the bank of elevators. They run into one, shocking the hell out of the Operator.

"Wait. Wait. Take us down. Quickly. Quickly!" said Rose and Jack.

The Operator scrambles to comply. Jack even helps him close the steel gate. The guys run up as the lift starts to descend. Lewis slams his hands on the bars of the gate. Jack whispers something in her ear, and she make a very rude and unladylike gesture, and so did he. They laughed.

"Bye. Bye," said Rose, waving at them. Jack still made the gesture as they went down.

When the lift finally got to the floor. Jack and Rose stumbles out. They run into a couple.

"Sorry," said Jack. They continued to run. They went downstairs, and Jack runs into a cart. "I’ve got it," said the steward.

They laugh as they went functional space, with access to a number of machine spaces. Jack and Rose are leaning against the wall next to the doors with windows, laughing.

"God, who are they? Your bodyguards?"

"I guess they are!" She laughs.

Suddenly the guys saw them from the windows’ door, and charges towards them. Jack saw them. "Oh, shit!"

"Go!" Said Rose, as they ran. They turn towards into a blind alley; they come to the end. Dead-end.

"No. Over here." He sees a door a little away from them, it marks: CREW ONLY. Jack tries to open it. "Quick!" said Rose. He got it open, and they got in, and Jack locks it.

The guys came up to the door, and found it was locked.

Jack and Rose enter a roaring fan room, with no way out, but a ladder to go down.

"Now what?" Her ears are covered with her hands, because of the noise.

"What?" His too. They laugh.

Jack taps Rose and points down at the ladder. She nods. They come down the escape ladder, with Jack first, and then he helped Rose down, and look around in amazement. It is like a vision of hell itself, with the roaring furnaces and black figures moving in the smoky glow. They run the length of the boiler room, dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal.

"Hold up. What are you two doing down here?" asked Barrett.

Rose pulls Jack’s coat, and they ran.

"You shouldn’t be down here, it could be dangerous!" Shouting at them.

"Carry on! Don’t mind us! You’re doing a great job, keep up the good work. We’re just lovers on the run!" Jack shouting over the din to the stokers. Rose laughs.

They run through the open watertight door into boiler room six. Jack pulls Rose through the fiercely hot alley between two boilers and they wind up in the dark, out of sight of the working crew. Watching from the shadows, they see the stokers working in the hellish glow, shoveling coal into the insatiable maws of the furnaces. The whole place thunders with roar of the fires.

Cal is sitting with Parrish. "They’ll find her."

Cal looks at his watch, and scowls. "They have to find her, or else."

The furnaces roar, silhouetting the glistening stokers. Jack kisses her face, tasting the sweat trickling down from her forehead. They kiss passionately in the steamy, pounding darkness. Then Jack sees a door behind them.

"Let’s see what’s in there."

"Okay."

They enter between the rows of stacked cargo. She hugs herself against the cold, after the dripping heat of the boiler room.

"Wow! Look what we’ve got here, huh?" said Jack, holding her hand.

They come upon a Renault car, lashing down to a pallet. It looks like a royal coach from a fairy tale, its bass trim and headlamps nicely set off by its deep burgundy color.

Rose clears her throat, saying there is a lady present, and Jack plays along being a chauffeur, and he opens the door for her and handed his hand to her, she took it.

"Thank you." Rose climbs into the plushly upholstered back seat, acting very royal.

There are cut crystals buds on the walls back there, each containing a rose. She smiles at them. Jack jumps into the driver’s seat, enjoying the feel of the leather and wood. Rose steps forward, and pushes the window down from her and him.

He honks the horn. She laughs.

"Where to, miss?"

"To the stars."

He looks at her puzzled, but she grabs his arms, and pulls him over the seat into the back. He lands next to her, and his breath seems loud in the quiet darkness. He looks at her and she is smiling. It is the moment of truth. He takes her hand, and put into his.

"You nervous?" asked Jack.

"No." Quietly, and he smiles.

She takes his hand from hers, and kisses his artist’s fingers.

"Put your hands on me, Jack."

She puts his hand on her left breast. He lightly pulls her to him and kisses her, and they slide down in the seat. Their kisses and caresses became more passionate than ever.

Chapter Seventeen
Stories