A DEEP OCEAN OF SECRETS
Chapter Four
Rose was having trouble sleeping.
Her breath was coming out heavy, like she was waiting for something to happen.
She tossed and turned, and once nearly rolled off the side of her bed. The
image of Jack’s beautiful young face in 1912 filled her mind, and she couldn’t
get it out, no matter what she did. She rolled over, trying to block out his
image from haunting her dreams, but it wasn’t working. She kept playing that
horrible yet wonderful night when she had met Jack…
*****
Not wanting to live anymore,
Rose had climbed over the stern railing, and was standing on the back of the
stern, holding onto the white metal railing from behind, with nothing in front
of her but the cold air and a steep drop into the cold Atlantic. She had tears
running down her face, but Rose’s heavy crying had subsided. She gazed down
into the cold water, unsure of whether to jump or not.
Elisabeth saw her sister come
into view and stopped dead in her tracks. "Rose!" she screamed in
horror, and brought her hand to cover her mouth in shock. "Rose—"
"Stay back,
Elisabeth!" Rose replied, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Stay
back!" Elisabeth didn’t listen, and walked closer to her sister, standing
to her left, sobbing openly now.
"Don’t do it, Rose,
please!" she sobbed, trying not to break down right in front of Rose, and
nearly deciding to jump for herself.
The man crept up from behind,
like walking up on a spooked horse. Elisabeth saw him first, and turned her
head to watch him in confusion. Her mouth opened in shock at what he was going
to do.
"Don’t do it," the
man said. Rose turned her head, trying to see him. The cold stung her skin, but
she didn’t notice.
"Stay back!" Rose
cried. "Don’t come any closer! I mean it! I’ll let go!"
The man held out his cigarette,
scooted closer to Rose, and tossed his cigarette overboard. He put his hands in
his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. Elisabeth looked up at him
questioningly, her eyes darting back and forth between Rose and the man next to
her. "No, you won’t," he said.
Rose’s head whipped back to
him. "What do you mean, no, I won’t? Do not presume to tell me what I will
and will not do! You do not know me!"
"Well, you would have
done it already!"
Elisabeth sucked in a breath.
"Excuse me, sir, but my sister is hanging off the back of a ship! I don’t
want to even talk about whether she is going to jump!" she cried.
"Come on. Take my
hand," the man said, and held out his tanned artist’s hand. Rose was
confused now, and it was hard to see through her tears.
"You’re distracting me.
Go away!" Rose demanded angrily, staring into the death pit below her.
The man shrugged. "I
can’t. I’m involved now. If you let go, I have to jump in there after
you." Elisabeth gave the man a you’re stupid look, and Rose gave a sigh of
disbelief.
"Don’t be absurd. You’ll
be killed," she said.
The man took off his worn,
faded plaid jacket. "I’m a good swimmer."
Rose looked down at the water.
"The fall alone would kill you."
"It would hurt. I’m not
saying it wouldn’t. To be honest, I’m a lot more concerned about that water
being so cold."
Rose had a faraway look on her
face, the reality of what she was about to do sinking in. "How cold?"
she stammered nervously.
The man took off his left
shoe, which took some effort. "Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees
over." He began to unlace his right shoe. "You…uh…ever been to
Wisconsin?"
Rose asked, perplexed,
"What?" She had no idea why this man she didn’t even know was asking
her if she had been somewhere when she was hanging off the back of a ship.
"Well, they have some of
the coldest winters around, and I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. Once,
when I was a kid, me and my father were ice-fishing out on Lake
Wissota...ice-fishing's where you chop a hole in the--"
"I know what ice-fishing
is!" Rose cried, interrupting.
The man sucked in like he
wasn’t surprised she yelled. "Sorry. You just look sort of like, you know,
an indoor girl." He rolled his eyes discreetly. "Well, I fell through
some thin ice, and I’m telling you, water that cold, like right down
there," he said, pointing to the dark waters of the Atlantic, "it
hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can’t breathe, you
can’t think—at least about anything but the pain." The man took off his
other shoe. "Which is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in there
after you. But like I said, I don’t have a choice. I’m hoping maybe you’ll come
back over the rail and get me off the hook here."
Elisabeth almost gave a small
smile at how convincing this man was. But she almost wanted to push Rose
overboard when she heard her reply. "You’re crazy!" Rose said.
"That’s what they all
say, but with all due respect, miss, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a
ship here." The artist held out his hand and inched closer. "Come on.
You don’t want to do this. Take my hand."
Rose stared at the madman for
a long time, searching his eyes for truth. And when all she saw was truth, she
gave in, deciding to live. She lifted her hand from the tight hold on the
railing, and the man took it. He helped Rose turn around, and he smiled at her.
"Whew," he breathed. Rose exhaled slowly. "I’m Jack
Dawson."
"Rose DeWitt
Bukater," Rose replied.
"Gonna have to get you to
write that down for me," Jack joked, smiling. Rose let out a chuckle,
which sounded more like a gasp for air.
Since she had decided to live,
the height was terrifying. She was numb with cold and her breath came out in
short pants. She was overcome by the vertigo. As Rose tried to climb over the
railing, putting her foot on the top railing, her dress got in the way and she
slipped, falling down the side of the ship. Jack, who was holding onto her hand
tightly, was pulled forward, but never let go. Roes let out a piercing shriek.
"Rose!" Elisabeth
screamed, and ran over next to Jack and peered down, trying to reach for her
sister’s other hand.
"Help! Help!" Rose
screamed, crying openly.
Jack peered down at her and
said, "I’ve got you. I won’t let go!" Rose was lifted up, and as she
tried to find a foothold on the smooth hull, and as Jack tried to grab her
body, she slipped again and let out another scream. "Listen. I’ve got you.
Now pull yourself up!" Jack grabbed for Rose as she lifted herself up
again, pulled her over the railing, and both of them fell onto the deck.
*****
Rose stopped turning and her eyes
snapped open, the emeralds opening to the ancient world yet again. Rose looked
at her bedside clock. The digital numbers read 10:38. She was sweating, even
with the window above her bed open. There was a steady breeze. Rose looked up
through the small window, the wind playing with her curls, tickling her cheeks.
She could see the cloudless sky and the dark night of gleaming stars, like the
night she had met Jack…and the night she had lost him. Rose looked around the
room and back outside through the small, circular hole.
Something in her mind was
bothering her, and finally, she realized it was time to let go. She had
fulfilled her promise to Jack, promised to never give up, in good times and in
bad. Rose slowly put her feet firmly on the floor and stood up shakily. She
walked over to her cabin dresser and pulled open the first drawer. In the
corner was a velvet box. She popped it open and pulled out the contents,
grasping it firmly in her hand.
She opened her cabin door slowly
and peered out into the hallway. It was dark and nobody was in sight. Rose
closed her cabin door quietly and slowly made her way down the hall until she
reached the door at the end of the hall leading out to the deck. She peered
through the window, and seeing nobody, she pushed the door open and stepped
outside.
The stern of the Keldysh was
deserted. The wind blew softly. The water lapped gently and quietly against the
boat. Nearly ninety years ago, Rose had been in that water with Jack, not
knowing what was going to happen. The cold was bone-chilling, but for some
unexplained reason, Rose didn’t feel it.
Slowly, one hundred-year-old Rose
emerged from the shadows. Her whitened, thin hair blew behind her in the wind.
She was barefoot and dressed in her nightgown, a thin white garment that blew
around her ankles in the wind. In her hand, she carried the Heart of the Ocean.
She held it tightly, as if she had treasured it for all of her life.
And she had. For those nearly
ninety years she had to survive without Jack, this necklace was the one thing
that she had left of him.
Rose reached the stern of the
ship and her ancient hand grasped onto the top rail. She looked into the waters
below and a soft smile spread across her chapped lips. She put her foot on the
bottom rail and slowly pulled herself onto the railing, standing on the safe
side of the ship. Like she had done so many years ago, but this time, it was
not her red silky hair was blowing in the wind, but her thin white hair. She
gazed down at the water, the ocean of memories. She looked down at the diamond
and closed her eyes…
*****
Rose stood exactly where she had
been when she had given her name as Rose Dawson. The rain still beat down, she
was still soaked, and she was still lost in thought. Her hands were in her
pockets, looking for warmth as she stared up at the Statue of Liberty.
Suddenly, her expression turned to confusion as she grasped something in her
pocket. She wrapped her fingers around the item and pulled it out. It was, just
like it had been when Cal had given it to her, the Heart of the Ocean. She
turned it over in her fingers, looking at it in awe.
*****
Rose opened her eyes and sighed.
She looked at the diamond. Then, with a small cry, she flung the Heart of the
Ocean into the dark water below her. It plopped into the water and sank down,
down, down into the peaceful abyss and the peaceful resting place of the
Titanic.
Rose stayed and watched the necklace
she had cherished yet hated for so long disappear in the darkness of the
Atlantic. After staying at the stern for a few moments, thinking about what she
had accomplished in her life, she slowly turned around and headed back to her
cabin. She felt like she had made her life count. And she really had.
Rose walked back into the hallway
and slipped into her cabin, slowly but unnoticed. She glanced at the pictures
that she had cherished for so long and that meant so much to her. She had done
what she had promised she would do for Jack. She got out of the freezing
Atlantic, she made lots of babies and watched them grow, never gave up hope,
and traveled to Santa Monica, doing everything they had planned there. And now,
lastly, she was going to lie in her bed, nice and warm, an old lady.
Rose shuffled across the room and
slowly made herself comfortable in her bed. A slow tune played in the wind as
Rose lay there on her bed. Her eyes were closed, her window open, her hair
blowing softly around her face in the breeze. Next to her bed were the pictures
that she had brought with her that she couldn’t live without.
Shots of herself as a motion
picture actress, glamorous, beautiful. She and a big fish she caught, the fish
hanging by a string, Rose grinning proudly. She and Elisabeth, a couple of
years before the Titanic, both of them smiling radiantly and curls blowing in
the wind in Philadelphia. Rose dressed in pilot gear, one leg propped up onto
the wing of a plane, posing with pride and happiness. Elisabeth posing for her
photo that was included in the newspaper clipping, looking stunning and happy.
A self-portrait with her kids, each dressed elegantly and smiling peacefully.
Rose at the beach, lying in the sand.
Lastly, her favorite and most
special picture, taken around 1920. She was on a horse, riding like a man,
right in the surf, the Santa Monica pier and roller coaster in the background.
That picture showed that she loved Jack, and no matter what, Jack always had
her heart.
And even now he did. Rose lay on
her bed, sleeping peacefully. Or maybe something else…