THE EDUCATION OF ROSE DAWSON: PART I
Chapter Six

Adaptation

For the rest of the day until supper, Rose was by herself–the first time she was alone in New York since she returned to America, discounting the fleeting moment in which she tried to strike out on her own the previous evening after disembarking from the Carpathia before being forced by the rain to seek assistance from the SA. Any reservations she had about obtaining relief had all but evaporated. In fact, she was glad to have turned to the SA. Its staff had been very helpful thus far, and she got to meet and learn from Miss Howard. She was slowly making the transition to the life of a commoner, for she was no longer the royalty that Cal said they were when he first showed her the Heart of the Ocean.

After going to the washroom, Rose stepped out onto the street again to take in some fresh air. She had not yet explored the shelter’s immediate surroundings. Her side of the street had a row of brownstones. Across the street was a park surrounded by a high fence that was hosting some schoolboys who were probably taking their lunch recess. She crossed the street to enter it. The park, called Stuyvesant Square, was much smaller than Bryant Park, and Rose navigated it in no time. Then she realized the park was bigger than it appeared because it was bisected by Second Avenue, which she crossed, while keeping alert for horse manure, to get to the western section.

After walking around the western section, she found a bench and sat down to admire its greenery and tranquility. A butterfly appeared out of nowhere, hovering around her as if looking for a place to land. Her eyes were transfixed by its natural beauty, and they followed it for several minutes. Rather early for them to appear. But we did have a mild winter this year. It reminded her of the hair comb and kimono. Both items had a butterfly theme, and both went down with the ship. I will never see them again.

As a young girl, Rose had caught butterflies with a net just to admire them. It was one of the few recreational activities allowed by her mother. She had always wondered about the nature of a butterfly. As a caterpillar, it looks creepy, but after the metamorphosis, it becomes one of the most elegant creatures ever–unrecognizable from its former state.

She became aroused. Am I not changing into something unrecognizable from my former state? And I have been fortunate in the process. I have been assisted every step of the way during my own transformation, while it fends for itself. Many have died so that I may live. Those pangs of guilt were creeping up on her again.

"My friends who died, I believe they wanted me to live on," Angus had told her and Jack. His insightful words served to boost her determination. And mine, too, Mr. McKenzie, including you.

The butterfly landed next to her on the bench, but it appeared weak, for it kept slipping as it tried to crawl up its back rest to reach the top. It did not give up, though, and was finally rewarded for its efforts, to Rose’s delight. No butterfly ever survived by staying still, so I must persevere as well. I shall not let my friends down.

Rose then realized how simple the rules of life could be: do not stay still, do not give up, and–most of all–make it count.

*****

Rose left Stuyvesant Square and headed east, following the schoolboys who were heading back to class after their lunch recess was over. She stopped in front of their school, a five-story stone structure built in the Beaux-Arts style. She managed to take a look inside through the door. Next, she tried the windows on the first floor and saw not a single girl in sight except for a few young women who probably worked in menial positions in the school. She guessed what that meant. This institution prepared boys for “men’s careers,” which tend to involve science and technology. But the lack of girls inside disappointed her. Do they all believe that women and machinery do not mix, as Colonel Gracie said? In that case, boys, I hope one of you can build us a better ship in the future. If you cannot, then you have no one to blame but yourselves.

Then she realized that she had unintentionally slighted Thomas Andrews, who designed Titanic and had advocated tighter safety standards than were implemented for the ship. He had also given her the life vest that helped save her life. My apologies, Mr. Andrews. May you rest in peace. Your creation will always be the "Ship of Dreams". That is where I met the good people who helped me pursue them. For that I thank you.

Such a thought was full of emotions, but Rose tried hard not to let it disturb her this time. She had just received a lift from the butterfly, and was not going to break down this soon after renewing her resolve. She crossed over to the far side of the street to learn the name of this institution, and found it chiseled on the top face of the building: Stuyvesant High School.

(L) Stuyvesant Square; (R) Stuyvesant High School (345 E.15 St.)

Rose was momentarily caught off guard by the rumble of a train along the tracks of the Second Avenue El, which ran along First Avenue in this part of Manhattan. She gritted her teeth and stood her ground. It worked. The train had become progressively less scary than it had been earlier. Already she was overcoming one fear. She did not know if she could ever completely exorcise her dread of the eerie sounds of Titanic’s final death plunge, but she was determined to bring it down to a manageable level.

The day had been enlightening and emotional for Rose, and it left her tired. She returned to the shelter to rest. On her way back, she took some solace in knowing that the national commander of the SA and the head of the Women’s Rescue Home were women.

*****

After napping for several hours, Rose woke up in time for supper, which she had with some unfamiliar faces because Miss Howard had not yet returned from seeing Mrs. Goldsmith. But feeling so upbeat after overcoming one of her fears, she actively tried to mingle with the diners at her table, impressing some of them with her cheerful manner. As a result, she felt better about herself than she had at any time since Jack died.

After supper, Rose found Commander Booth waiting for her outside the dining hall. "Miss Dawson, it is so good to see you. I hope you have been enjoying your stay here. Cadet Hill and Brigadier Bown told me a little about you while you were at supper. Have they been helpful to you?"

"Very helpful, Madam Booth."

Commander Booth put a comforting hand on Rose’s arm. "I heard about what happened to your family, and if there is anything more the Army can do to help you recover from your anguish, please let us know."

"The Army has done a lot for me already, Madam Booth. Thank you."

"Remember, please do not hesitate to ask if you need anything, Miss Dawson. You are our most revered guest. Also, I must apologize for not being able to accommodate you and Miss Howard in a room last night. That was extremely kind of you to allow Miss Howard to have the bottom bed and to show her around the city today. She is very grateful for that."

"My pleasure, Madam Booth."

"I regret to say that the two of you will have to endure one more night in the corridor. The leaks still have not been fixed yet, but we have been blessed because some students from Stuyvesant High School across the street have volunteered to come help fix it tomorrow, as well as assist with the Army’s relief efforts for Titanic survivors. As soon as a room becomes available, we will offer it to you."

Stuyvesant High School. All boys. "I will be happy to sleep wherever the Army puts me. I know I am not the only one in need of its assistance."

"You are generous as always, Miss Dawson." Commander Booth patted Rose on the shoulder. "I hope it will not be too long before we can give you your own room."

"Madam Booth, how is Mrs. Abbott?"

"So you know Mrs. Abbott! I was at St. Vincent’s this morning to see her. She is recuperating slowly, but I do not know if she can overcome the loss of two sons. It was only by God’s will that she survived the freezing water. How did you know her?"

"We were both on the same lifeboat. I was rescued from the water first, and she was rescued when it was almost sunrise. She was almost unconscious by the time the Carpathia arrived." The implication that Mrs. Abbott was in the frigid water that long made Commander Booth cringe.

"So that is why she was frozen below the waist," bemoaned Commander Booth. "I do not know if she can ever walk again, but I am sure she would trade that ability to have her two sons back." Her remark made Rose think about her mother again. Would Mother give up everything she owns to have me back? Not that she has much to give now.

"She was wearing something similar to what you are wearing now," continued Rose, who was studying Commander Booth’s uniform with some interest. "The Army must make some really durable uniforms."

"With some help from the Lord himself," added Commander Booth. "You must have been very strong and fortunate to have survived the water," she told Rose.

Rose thought hard before answering. "More fortunate than strong, Madam Booth. It is hard to be strong when those you love p-perish b-before your eyes…" The dam burst. All day Rose had tried to suppress her emotions, with mixed success, but now they poured out in front of Commander Booth and others who were passing by. She had been able to cope with the noise from the train, but she still could not overcome the loss of Jack.

Commander Booth lent Rose a shoulder and walked her over to a bench where the two of them sat down. She asked a passing staff member for a handkerchief and offered it to Rose, who soaked it with her tears.

"Do not be embarrassed, Miss Dawson. It is all right to cry. So many people have lost someone dear to them from this tragedy. I even saw grown men crying at the pier last night." She took Rose’s hand and gave it a consoling squeeze. "I was supposed to board the Titanic tomorrow for my trip to England, but now I am staying behind to tend to the needs of the survivors. I will still go to England, but later."

Rose slowly recovered and dried the tears from her eyes. "Th-thank you again, Madam Booth."

"Miss Dawson, whoever saved you from the water was an angel sent by God. You have been blessed. You have your entire life before you, and God wants you to live it before he sends for you. Life can be a gift, but only if you make it count. I think you will."

Rose was struck. Make it count. That was what Jack stressed several times to her. "Yes, I will," she said. "I promise that I will, but sometimes I do not know if I can."

"Do not underestimate yourself, Miss Dawson. I think you are a strong woman, just as Brigadier Bown said. I know you will live a long, fruitful life because you have ‘pluck’."

"‘Pluck’?"

"That would be the ability to recuperate from a tragedy." Commander Booth gave Rose another hug. "Is there anything I can do for you now?"

Rose remembered the contents in Cal’s jacket. "As a matter of fact, yes. Does this shelter have a safe? I have some valuables I need to safely store for now."

"We do have a safe here. Do you have your valuables with you?"

"Yes. Would you also have a small bag or valise in which I could put them? It would be great if you also have something that I could use to wrap them."

"I think we can find the items you need. Follow me."

Commander Booth led Rose into a back office. She took out a small bag and gave it to Rose. Then she summoned one of the shelter’s staff and asked her to retrieve some old newspaper. The staff member returned with a few sheets.

"Miss Dawson, this is Cadet MacTavish, our receptionist." Commander Booth introduced Rose to a shorter, young woman in uniform whose hair was almost as red as Rose’s. They shook hands. "We will grant you some privacy," said Commander Booth. "When you are finished, you can ask Cadet MacTavish to help you place the bag in the safe."

"Thank you, Madam Booth." Commander Booth and Cadet MacTavish left the room.

Once alone, Rose took the money clip, the letter, the earrings, and the Heart of the Ocean from the pockets of Cal’s jacket and wrapped each item securely with newspaper. Then she labeled each article with her name, put them all into the bag, and gave the bag to Cadet MacTavish, who placed them in a safe located under her desk. "If you need them back, Miss Dawson, you can ask me or whoever is minding the desk to unlock the safe. I already know your appearance, but I’ll tell any other staff that you’re the only one of our guests right now with tresses of crimson," Cadet MacTavish said with a smile.

"Thank you, Miss MacTavish," said Rose gratefully.

Chapter Seven
Stories