Written
by Clare
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
Central Park
April 15, 1962
People flocked through the whole of Central
Park like bees in a field of wildflowers on a crisp spring afternoon. The park
was abuzz with children playing baseball while chewing on sticky bubble gum and
new mothers proudly showing off their babies in colorful strollers. It was a
breezy spring day that appeared to be overwhelming with bliss and perfection.
No one appeared to notice the elderly woman sitting alone under a bench next to
an oak tree. Her face appeared to be too distorted on such a picturesque day,
and passers-by could not help but ponder whether or not the woman was all
right. It was only an elderly man who stopped to sit beside her. Although the
man appeared to be in his early seventies, his sea blue eyes sparkled like
those of a young child's and the expression on his face looked alert and fresh.
The woman did not respond to his presence for some time, perhaps because she
was too lost in thought to notice him, or perhaps it was simply because she was
trying to shun him out of her mind. Nevertheless, the silence was thick and
much too palpable for comfort. The man looked at the woman in confusion. Her
face was wrinkled with lines of wisdom and she appeared to be staring into
oblivion, perhaps reflecting the past, but then again he couldn't be sure.
"There are some things about this park
that never change, no matter how many years pass," the woman remarked, out
of the blue. "I remember strolling aimlessly through this park for hours
when I was a young woman; it was one of my only refuges from a poor lifestyle,
and I suppose it cleared my mind to watch young couples having a picnic with
their children."
"There is no happier sight in the
world," the man replied. "My wife and I would try to go on a picnic
with our children at least once a week until she passed...the children were
still very young and it was hard on them. Years after, I always had a slight
resentment towards couples with young children...I really shouldn't have, I
know, but I used to feel my life was one tragedy after another. The woman
looked up at the man for the first time as he continued, "My parents died
when I was a teenager...and I lost someone very dear to my heart a few years
later, and then of course there was my wife's death..." His voice trailed
off.
"I'm so sorry," the woman replied,
empathetically.
"Don't be," the man replied.
"After all that, I became thankful for the things that I did have, my
wonderful children, I couldn't be a bitter person in front of them, but it's
also very important to remember the memories and to never let go."
The old woman smiled in spite of herself.
"Someone very special to me used to say that."
"I guess it was always my motto in
life," he continued, lost in thought. "It was the only way I could
keep myself going when the world seemed to crumble from underneath my feet, and
I suppose it did save me. It really did and without it I may have never become
the same person I am today." The old woman stared at the man in silent
bewilderment for a few short moments. He reminded so much of someone she had
known before, so much that the sweet scent of the deceased one lay thick in the
air. She could feel his presence everywhere. It was in the trees, in the
couples picnicking a few yards a way, and it was in the stranger's eyes. More
than anything else it was in his eyes. The woman tried to look this over, but
it was impossible.
"Are you all right?" inquired the
old man.
"Pardon me?" the woman replied,
sub-consciously.
"Are you all right?" he repeated,
softly.
"Yes, I suppose," she replied looking
up, "just lost deep in thought."
The man looked into the woman's mossy green
eyes and felt as though she was not being completely truthful, as if there was
a secret hidden deep in her mind, so forbidden even she didn't dare think about
it. Then again, he had a few secrets himself.
"So..." the man began, desperately
trying to change the subject. "Do you live in New York?"
"No," the woman replied. "I'm
visiting my daughter. She lives here with her husband. I try to come and visit
them as often as I can. Now that her children are grown, she has more spare
time. I live in California."
The man's face lit up in an instant. "I
lived there for a time...when I was much younger. I don't know why I ever moved
away...but the world was calling my name and I had to travel. Now that I'm old
I don't have enough energy to so I ended up here. My children live in the
suburbs, so it's best for me to stay here."
"I lived in Los Angeles when I was in my
twenties. Actually..." the woman continued with a giggle. "I was a
film star. I really enjoyed it, although my film career only lasted a few
years."
"Oh." The man smiled. "I see
we have a celebrity in our midst."
"Hardly," the woman replied.
"At the highlight of my career, I met my future husband in Hollywood. He was
a tourist, and looked as though he had never seen a city in his life, but I
fell in love with him the moment I lay eyes on him. After we married, we moved
to Iowa, which was a big change from the city. I was always somewhat of a city
girl, so it took some getting used to. We lived on this beautiful old-fashioned
farm. There was always something that needed to be fixed, and there was never
enough money to make ends meet, but it was the perfect environment to raise our
children." The woman paused and looked mournfully at the clouds billowing
overhead. "After my husband's death two years ago, I couldn't live on the
farm anymore...there were just too many memories...so I moved back to
California and I've been happy there ever since."
The man looked at the distraught state of the
woman. "I guess it's sometimes best to forget your past."
The woman shook her head fiercely. "I
never forgot, and I never will...anything."
"Your past does tend to impact your life
the most," the man replied candidly. "No matter how hard you try to
forget it, it's inevitable that you live by your memories and past people in
your life."
The two paused and looked away for some time.
They were silent, and at a loss of words to say to each other. Nothing could be
heard but the faint giggling of the families having picnics and the wind
blowing through the maple trees, majestically.
"Do you want to know the real reason I
came here?" the woman asked, spontaneously. This comment startled the man
and he looked up at the woman, slowly.
"Yes," he replied, almost in a
whisper.
The woman sighed heavily. "Well...it's
been fifty years to the date when my life was changed forever...I never knew if
it was in a good way or a bad way..." The woman was now completely lost in
thought, not noticing the man's presence at all. "I used to ask myself,
why did it have to be him? Why did he have to die when it could have been me?
It seemed so unfair, so unjust. I didn't know what to do. But...it was so cold
and I checked to see if he was alive a dozen times...but he was gone. Nothing
was left except a frozen corpse. I felt so betrayed...so guilty that it has
haunted me for fifty years and I--"
"Rose?" the man inquired, stunned,
"It--it is you, isn't it?"
The woman stared at the man for a full minute
in a state of total bewilderment. One more look into his deep ocean blue eyes,
and she confirmed what she had been suspecting for the past ten minutes.
"Jack?" she replied, unable to let out anything more than a whisper.
He nodded, tears of happiness flowing down
his cheeks, his hands shaking out of shock. "It really is you, Rose, isn't
it?"
"Yes," Rose replied,
"but...but--what about you? You were dead--dead in my arms. I let you fall
into the Atlantic. I--"
"I was unconscious. I woke up in the
water and made my way to a collapsible. On the Carpathia I checked for your
name, but couldn't find it." Rose smiled, a tad embarrassed.
"I took yours." The reunited couple
paused for a moment, lost in thought.
"Well, Jack," Rose began,
"where do we go from here? I mean it's been fifty years for God's sake.
I'm no longer a young woman, I don't know about you but I have
grandchildren."
Jack smiled softly. "Let's put
everything aside, we may not be young anymore, but we found each other, that
must mean something...I guess we'll start from the only place that makes sense,
the beginning."
"A perfect idea Mr. Dawson," Rose
replied with a smile, "a perfect idea." And for the first time in
fifty years, they kissed. Despite their frail bodies they felt more youthful
then they had ever felt in their lives. Their paths had met again and despite
their age they loved each other more than they had ever before.
The End.
