A DIFFERENT TALE
Chapter Eight

The man in the boat wrapped blankets around me, but most of them went around Jack.

His eyes were shut, though not tightly, but as if he were sleeping. His breathing was labored, and I could barely see his breath coming out of his blue lips.

"Ma’am, I don’t think he is going to make it," the man said to me.

I shivered and sat down in the boat, pulling Jack closer to me to share our body warmth.

Jack was so cold; it hurt to touch his skin. He was constantly shivering, and he never opened his eyes. The man continued to search through the fifteen hundred bodies, trying to find other survivors.

"Jack…can you hear me?" I whispered in his ear, pulling his hair back.

Jack shivered, but did not respond. I was freezing, but not nearly as close to death as Jack was. I pulled off one of my blankets and wrapped it around Jack.

"Jack…" I said quietly to myself.

The man gathered up six more people, but that was all. The man led us back to the group, and I stayed quiet, waiting to get some response from Jack.

We were in the boat all night. Not one ship came. Finally, by daylight, we were rescued by another ship, the Carpathia. The rich, of course, were pulled aboard first, and then Jack and I. We went to the steerage decks and I had Jack propped up in my lap, making sure he had warm blankets around him.

"Jack, can you hear me?" I asked again in his ear.

Still I got no answer from my beloved. Soon a doctor or someone who looked like a doctor came around, checking on how serious the injuries were of some people.

He soon came to me, and crouched down next to me.

"You look all right," he confirmed.

"Yeah, I know. What about him?" I asked, gesturing to Jack.

The doctor lifted Jack’s arm gently and did a few other things. His face was expressionless, and I felt worried.

The doctor sighed and stood up.

"I don’t know how he’s going to be. The best thing you can do for him is keep him as warm as possible."

"That’s all you can tell me?" I demanded.

He nodded his head and walked away. I was furious, but at the same time worried.

I tried the hearing test again.

"Jack, can you hear me?"

A shiver. That was all I got.

"Okay, then, let’s try another way. Jack, if you can hear me, cough twice."

Still nothing. Suddenly, I heard familiar voices from behind me.

"Cal, do you think Jack and Marie made it off the ship?" Rose asked.

"Who knows and who cares?" he answered.

I heard the doctor.

"Sir, I need to examine that bump on your head," the doctor said.

"Get away, fool!" Cal snapped.

Rose let out a long, resounding sigh.

"Maybe I should have trusted them," she said quietly, so Cal wouldn’t hear.

"What was that, Rose?"

"Nothing, dear. Nothing," Rose replied.

Their footsteps receded, and I turned my attention back to Jack.

"Jack…I never thought meeting you was a mistake. You and I belong together, and I don’t want you to leave. I promised I would never let go of your hands…"

I took one of Jack’s hands and clenched it tightly.

"…and I never will."

I bowed my head in silent prayer and heard, "That’s just about…the sweetest thing I’ve…ever heard."

I lifted my head and saw that Jack’s eyes had opened a bit, and he was looking up at me, a small smile on his face.

I wiped away a tear from my cheek. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"You kept your promise," he said.

"I always do."

Jack’s body slowly began to warm up, and soon his skin returned to its normal tan color and he could sit up. The blue color receded from his lips, which turned into a friendly smile, the one I had become accustomed to over the years.

A few days later, the Carpathia pulled into the docks of New York. I helped Jack up and we got off the ship together. It was raining, and I stared up at the Statue of Liberty.

"Can I get your names?" a man asked when he approached us.

"Jack Dawson," Jack said, not taking his eyes off the statue.

I didn’t reply at first.

"Marie Dawson," I finally replied.

The man jotted it down on a pad of paper and left. Jack tore his eyes from the statue and faced me. I smiled and moved his hair back to the front.

"It looks better that way."

He laughed, and we kissed again. His lips weren’t as cold as death anymore.

They were warm and full of life. We broke apart, both of us smiling.

"So, what now, Jack Dawson?" I asked him.

He ran his hand through his hair.

"We wing it."

Epilogue
Stories