TITANIC CONTINUED
Chapter Six
Fabrizio said nothing, but just
looked at Rose, still confused.
"I'm sorry, Rose...I cannot
help you...Jack never came in last night."
Rose ran through every detail of
last night as she hurried past Fabrizio. She reached the door of Jack's cabin.
She slowly opened the door and
peeked inside.
Fabrizio was right. The room was
dark, quiet, and deserted.
"I just don't understand
this!" she said in frustration. "I left him right there!"
Turning around, she closed the
door behind her and hurried back down the hall.
She walked quickly, trying to
think of any place Jack might be. She needed to think. She needed to find Jack.
She was worried about him.
As she climbed a flight of stairs
and stepped through the door and onto the third class deck, she realized that
her heart was beating fast.
What am I worried about? she said to herself. I'm such an idiot.
We're on the Titanic! There are millions of places he could've gone! Why am I
kicking up such a fuss?
She passed many third class passengers
on the deck. Children were running about unsupervised.
A tall, lanky teenage boy
approached Rose.
"Ma'am, do you know Jack
Dawson?" he asked matter-of-factly.
Surprised, Rose answered,
"Yes. Who are you?" Rose guessed he was about sixteen or seventeen.
"Well, my name's Jim, but
somebody named Jack Dawson told me and my brothers and sisters to look out for
a pretty lady dressed all fancy walking around down here."
Still curious about what was
going on, but somewhat amused at the description Jack had given the children,
Rose said, "You've found the right one, Jim. When did you see him? And
what else did he tell you?"
Jim cleared his throat. "He
told me to tell you to meet him down in the third class lounge as soon as we
saw you. I imagine he's waiting down there for you. That was about half an hour
ago."
Rose felt relief. Jack was not
lost after all. But she still wanted an explanation of where he'd been all
night.
"Thank you for the message,
Jim. But could you please give me directions to the third class lounge? I'm
afraid I'm not familiar with this part of the ship," Rose said.
"Of course," Jim
replied, and gave Rose brief directions.
A few minutes later, Rose was
walking through the narrow doors of the plain room known as the third class
lounge. The room was already quite full of passengers, mingling about before
breakfast, which was served to the third class passengers last.
Rose immediately spotted Jack in
a corner, a cigarette in his mouth and nothing on the table but a glass of
water, a few other empty glasses, and an ashtray. Jack saw her, too, and
motioned for her to come over.
"Good morning, Rose,"
Jack said, with not quite so much color and life as he usually spoke with.
"Jack, what's wrong with
you? And where were you last night? Fabrizio said you never came to bed last
night, when I know good and well that I left you almost asleep!"
Jack took a drink of water.
"I was thinking, Rose. I was up on the first class deck. Ironic, isn't it,
that I was thinking about how I could never belong there, living a life in high
society?"
Rose's face clouded with
confusion. "What? You walked around up there all night? I don't
understand..."
"Nothing. I'm not saying
anything. Just thinking..."
He had a strange, distant sound
in his voice that Rose had never heard before.
Rose reached across the table,
putting her hand on top of his.
"Were you drinking last
night, Jack?" she asked gently.
Jack looked up. "What?
Drinking? Rose, no. I haven't been drinking. I told you what I've been
doing."
"Yes, Jack," Rose said,
"you've been thinking. What have you been thinking about?"
Jack took a breath. "Rose,
we've talked about...being together after Titanic docks. But have you ever
thought about what we're going to do after that?"
Rose, who was still holding
Jack's hand, squeezed it.
"Jack, this is not you. Jack
Dawson never worries about what's going to happen next. You take it as it
comes, remember? What is it? You can tell me. What's wrong?"
Jack shook his head. "This
is serious, Rose. The most serious thing I've ever done. We can't just...get
off this ship and run around the world together. It doesn't work like
that."
"You're wrong, Jack! That is
the way it works! That's your life! That's what you do! That's why I love you!
I want to live like that. I don't want to stay here, cooped up and settled
down. I want to be with you, going places, doing things. I don't want to waste
my life, Jack. I want to make it count. I want to spend my life with you."
Jack put out his cigarette and
lay his other hand on top of hers. "Rose, I know that's what you want. But
it isn't as simple as it sounds. You don't even know how hard it gets out
there...there were times when there wasn't any food, times when there was no
place to sleep...Rose, I'd wake up forgetting where I was. It's not like it is
for you. It's tough." He stopped to take a breath. "I don't want to
put you through that. It isn't right."
Rose shook her head. "No.
No, Jack. You're not doing this to me now. I love you! I know it's hard out
there, but I'll have you! Don't you understand? Why can't you understand?"
Tears formed in the corners of Rose's eyes.
"I do understand. But...you
wouldn't be happy. I know you wouldn't! You'd hate every minute of it."
Still shaking her head furiously,
trying to fight the tears, which nevertheless ran down her face uncontrollably,
Rose's voiced trembled. "What are you saying to me, Jack? Can you tell me
what all of this means?"
"I can't marry you,
Rose," Jack said. He stood up and walked quickly out of the lounge.