A FIRE IN THE WIND
Chapter Thirty-Three

"D-Dawson," Cal murmured under his breath, not able to believe that he was alive.

Cal was almost as dazed as Rose was as she walked down the aisle. Here he was, being humiliated in front of all high Philadelphia society and all he could think about was some uncouth artist bastard. But this wasn't just anyone. Jack Dawson had made Rose his whore! He had turned Rose into a scandalous bohemian slut!

Rose let go of Cal's hand and met Jack in the middle of the aisle. She gave him a passionate hug and began to cry tears of joy. This triggered Cal's anger instantaneously. He couldn't bear to look at his fiancée in the hands of some poor son of a bitch!

"Will you excuse us?" asked Cal, tensely and mortified. The anger dripped through his voice like blood. He was speaking both to the priest and to the hundreds of guests. He eyed Ruth, and then gave a despising look to Rose and Jack.

Ruth was stationary in her seat. She hadn't even noticed Jack Dawson's presence. She was much too shocked to. There it was. Seventeen years of work down the drain. Ruth had been so cocky. She had been so naive. Had Rose really said no? It could not be true! Ruth had finally thought she had mastered her daughter's weaknesses. She had thought she could have turned her daughter into any "normal" lady of society, but Rose was different somehow. Why?

Why had Rose always been the one questioning society? Why was she the one who wanted things to be different? Why was she the one who wanted to run away?

Ruth received a cold nudge from her sister, along with an appalled look. Ruth hesitantly walked down the aisle in distress, a deja vu of her walk down the aisle nineteen years ago.

Mary and Molly stood up at the same time and decided to go into the lobby to defend the bride.

The lobby was silent. Jack squeezed Rose's hand tightly as if to tell her that he was here to protect her, and that he would be standing beside her every step of the way. She was so brave. She had spoken from her heart without knowing he would come to rescue her. Rose was a fire that simply wouldn't burn out.

Rose closed her eyes to do away with Cal's evil stare. She tried to imagine that only Jack and she were standing in the room. What a great occasion this had been! She had done it. She finally did it.

"I do not," had been the dominant answer. It had been the only answer. Rose could breath again. She could think without the haunting thought of an eternity with Cal lingering in her mind. Instead, Rose thought of Santa Monica. She thought of becoming Mrs. Jack Dawson. The thoughts renewed her strength. Rose and Jack would need all the strength they had to fight Cal. It seemed impossible, but Jack and Rose were finally together. Their passion for each other was so great that that anything was possible. They were one.

The two parties stood on two sides of the lobby, jousters waiting to charge. The silence was much too palpable. It seemed that the tension was building. It was so quiet that you could hear the soft humming of the heater, and the drizzle of the rain, hitting the awnings of the department store across the street. The horn of an auto beeped loudly outside of the window as Cal breathed heavily. There was no movement. The two parties were a photograph, only their faces were dripping with emotion. The only movement visible was the glimmer of "The Heart" that was harnessed around Rose's neck.

The four jumped at the opening of the door. Cal and Ruth were less then thrilled to have Mary and Molly join them.

Rose and Jack were relieved. They had two more people on their side. They very well knew that Cal and Ruth couldn't release all of their anger with the two older ladies in the room.

Ruth covered her mouth with her hands. She couldn't bear to see her daughter in Jack Dawson's arms. What was she doing with that boy? She was Rose DeWitt Bukater, fiancée of Caledon Hockley and yet wanted nothing more than to run away with some devastatingly poor artist.

A tear slowly dripped down Ruth's face, and for the first time in her life she didn't take the time to brush it away. For the first time in her life, Ruth had forgotten about her composure. But the absurdity of it all was that Ruth wasn't crying for the money. After her eternal worries about her financial well being it didn't seem important anymore. For the first time in her life, Ruth was crying for her daughter.

No one spoke. They had been standing there for nearly five minutes. Inside the crowd grew restless. The soft murmurs that could be heard before had now turned into much louder voices. Ruth bowed down her head. From that moment on, she knew that things would never be the same again.

Rose looked over at the dreary sight of her mother and was hesitant to admit to herself that she felt sorry for her. Ruth looked devastated. Rose knew that her mother had beseeched her to marry Cal for this exact reason. Everything was out. This day would scar Ruth for the rest of her life. Rose wished there was something she could do to make up for everything, but knew in her heart that she couldn't make up for what just happened. When Rose looked into her mother's face, she knew that she had been selfish. She was abandoning her. Ruth may have ruined Rose's childhood. She may have urged Rose to become a member of high society. She may have forced Rose into an awful betrothal, but she was still her mother, and Rose felt horrible.

Cal's fierce eyes glanced into Jack Dawson's, trying to claim his "property." He was too late, though. Jack came in closer to Rose, provoking Cal. Jack would not look away from Cal. He had lost many of the battles before, but wasn't about to lose this one. One night, on a certain ship, Cal had told Jack that he always won. Jack knew it was time to prove him wrong. Jack wouldn't let go of Rose's hand. He wouldn't let go of it that night on the Titanic and he just couldn't let go now.

The tension grew. It was obvious something was going to happen. Cal, Ruth, Rose, and Jack were a shaken up champagne bottle, waiting for the cork to pop. And so it did.

"You bastard! You slut!" Cal screamed forcefully, looking from Jack to Rose.

Jack came in closer to Rose, holding her hand tightly. Rose closed her eyes and exhaled softly, trying to ignore Cal's words and his general presence.

"Cal, please. You're not going to make the situation any better," Molly responded, coolly.

Cal laughed tensely. "Frankly, Mrs. Brown, I don't think the situation can get any worse!"

Ruth had made her way across the room to an empty chair, where she sat, her hands covering her face, in tears. She looked fragile and innocent. Maybe she was.

Rose wanted to go over and comfort her mother but denied the urge. There were things that had to be dealt with.

"Well, this is quite a sight, isn't it?" Cal said, coming in closer towards the passionate couple. "My fiancée and some gutter rat! Truly--Jack, that is your name, isn't it? How did you ever manage to survive? I thought the ship took you. Apparently so did Rose, I might add."

"I had to live," started Jack, sly but firm. "I couldn't see Rose marrying someone like you."

Cal stood directly in Jack's face. "And so you came all the way to Philadelphia so she could marry you instead? You must be joking."

"He--he's not joking," Rose spoke up.

Jack looked at Rose, flabbergasted. He hadn't expected her to talk.

Cal didn't respond to Rose's last comment. He tried to convince himself that Rose hadn't spoken at all. He knew that when this mess was over, Jack Dawson gone forever, and the wedding ceremony finished, the consequences for Rose would be grave.

Ruth had totally lost her composure. Her face was red and her eyes were blood-struck. She swayed softly in her chair, almost trying to comfort herself. No one else would because in the circumstances no one could.

Cal shuddered at the vision of Jack and Rose hand in hand. The passion between them was more than just noticeable, it was everywhere. Their sparks ran throughout the room like the Bubonic Plague had hundreds of years ago. It had no mercy.

Cal's hands began to tremble. His face grew blood red, and his deep brown eyes stared into those of his victim's.

Rose's memory was blocked after that. Things went by in such a flash that it was hard to make sense of anything at all. All she remembered were the aftershocks, Jack on the floor with a bloody nose. Cal's temper had reached the limit.

Rose quickly flung to the ground to help Jack to his feet. She stroked his beautiful long blond hair gingerly as she shed a few tears for his pain.

Molly was spellbound. She had to put an end to this right this instant before thing really began to get out of hand. "Mr. Hockley, that is quite enough!"

Cal smiled, satisfied. The tension and hatred had started to get out of him.

"Jack," Rose whispered. "I think we should go. Our work here is finished."

"Go where?" Cal asked in a commanding voice. "You have nowhere to go except with me!"

Rose ignored Cal's haughty voice. She had gotten to the point of no return. It was time for her to leave. It was finally time to leave society behind. And Rose was ecstatic.

Ruth stood up in a flash, living in an all too real nightmare. "Rose! Rose!" Her voice was desperate and it mimicked the tone of voice that she used during the lifeboat incident on Titanic perfectly.

Rose didn't turn around. She simply murmured a "Good-bye, Mother," and continued to walk towards the front entrance of the church with Jack right beside her.

Cal was in a trance. He couldn't believe the events that had occurred in the last fifteen minutes. It was too much to deal with in a day--no, a lifetime. His mind was cluttered with thoughts of hatred and resentment. He was ruined. Even when Rose was succored safe back in his mansion, he would never be look on with the same amount of respect in society. Jack Dawson had ruined his life!

"Get back here!" Cal's voice was sharp as he grabbed hold of Rose by the arm.

"Let go of her!" commanded Jack fiercely.

"Shut up, you bastard!" Cal remarked, pulling Rose closer to his side.

"Take my hand, Rose," Jack whispered softly.

Rose did so but was thrust back by Cal's harsh grip.

"Mr. Hockley, please!" Mary Bukater started off coldly. "Don't you see she doesn't love you? You have every right to be mad, but Rose has to make her own decisions. Do you want to see her miserable?"

"Certainly not, Mrs. Bukater. That is exactly why she's getting married to me. It's only logical! I think I would know what was best for her!"

Rose stared blankly into Cal's face. He had crossed the line one too many times. "You arrogant bastard! You know what's best for me? You say that as if I was a child. No. A possession. I never loved you, Cal. I only thought I did! I mistook lust for love. I was still just a girl, and had no experience in the matter. And you took advantage of that, didn't you? I was in denial. I couldn't come to face with reality. I didn't know who the real Caledon Hockley was!"

Ruth shuddered fiercely. "Rose, stop this foolishness this instant!"

Rose laughed coldly at her mother's comment. "I was just about to do that, Mother. The engagement is off, Mr. Hockley. I will never be your wife. You may go pester another young lady of society to become your wife, but frankly, I don't think they will accept. I humiliated you. I exposed the 'real' Caledon Hockley to all of Philadelphia society. And I'm glad. I'm glad. So now I'm doing something I should have done months ago. I'm leaving. I am no longer under your control. I am no longer your prisoner."

Cal was at a loss for words. What had just happened? Had Rose DeWitt Bukater really just left him for some bohemian artist? Cal couldn't take in everything. He was in his own world.

Cal absentmindedly let go of Rose's arm. Jack didn't hesitate to take the opportunity to pull Rose to his side.

Rose smiled at Jack as they ran out of the church. She didn't look back. There was nothing to look back at except seventeen years of pain. She only looked forward into the horizon, into the world that was waiting for her to explore. Hand in hand Rose DeWitt Bukater and Jack Dawson walked out of the church with a final sense of freedom.

Chapter Thirty-Four
Stories