A FIRE IN THE WIND
Chapter Forty
Jack tenderly held Rose as he watched her
sleep on the crisp May morning. Her hair shimmered in the sunlight like a
summer sunset in the country. Her skin was pale like a fresh coat of snow in December
and a small grin lay on her face. She was beautiful.
Rose began to stir, and Jack waited for her
to awake. He stroked her red hair gingerly as Rose's eyes began to open.
"Good morning, Rose," Jack mused,
sweetly.
"Jack," Rose started, half-asleep.
"How long have you been up?"
"Oh, just a few minutes," Jack
lied. "It's still pretty early."
Rose slowly sat up in bed and yawned softly.
Jack tenderly kissed Rose on the cheek.
"So, it's our last day in Philly. Is there any place in particular that
you want to go?"
Rose thought for a moment, and then replied,
"Well, there is one place I should go to. I mean, I would feel really
guilty if I didn't."
Jack shot Rose a perplexed stare. She was
acting quite mysterious again. He just followed Rose as she got out of bed and
started to prepare for the day.
Jack had walked alongside Rose in
bewilderment for a half-hour now. He was getting more curious about things by
the minute.
They were in an upper-class neighborhood. It
wasn't the same one that Rose had lived in, but Jack looked like quite a
character. It was hard to play the part of a gentleman in a faded shirt and
corduroys.
Rose suddenly began to walk slowly. The
gesture startled Jack as he frantically tried to change his pace. Her head was
bowed to the ground, and she looked terrified.
Rose suddenly stopped in front of some black
iron gates. Jack looked inside to get a better view and noticed that they were
standing in front of a cemetery.
Rose opened the gates, reluctantly, and
slowly started to make her way inside. Jack noticed the anguish Rose was going
through and extended his hand for her to take. Rose instantly grabbed it, a
little relieved, and continued to walk.
Jack was concerned about Rose. Wherever she
was going, she was scared but determined to get there. He knew that he had to
try his best to comfort her, and he was ready for it.
Rose finally stopped in front of a tombstone
that read:
Jon Bukater
1867-1903
Rose squeezed Jack's hand tightly as she read
the gravestone. Jack didn't let go of her hand.
"Jack," Rose replied softly, trying
to hold in the tears. "I'd like you to meet my father."
Jack put a comforting arm around Rose as
tears began to fall softly.
"It's all right, Rose. Don't
worry," Jack eased as Rose broke down crying.
Rose couldn't look up at Jack. Her eyes were
fixed into her father's gravestone. "I--I haven't visited my father in
about a year," Rose said, barely making out the words. "And whenever
I do, it always brings back the same awful memory. I was eight. It was the day
of my father's funeral. I remember it being a cold, rainy April day and I was
freezing and wet."
Rose paused, trying to calm down. "I
couldn't listen to the funeral service. I was too devastated. My father was
gone forever, and nobody could ever replace him. Before I could sort out my
thoughts, it was time for the coffin to be buried. It was time for the final
good-bye. I wasn't ready. No, I wasn't ready at all. I still had too many
things I wanted my father to do with me. There were too many ideas that would
never become memories. My father still had to see me graduate from school, he
still had to see me get married, and he still had to meet his grandchildren.
But he couldn't. And I knew that I would forget him. I knew I would forget his
voice, his scent, the way he smiled at me when I made him proud. He was already
slipping away from my memory. And then they began to lower the coffin into the
earth. I don't know how I kept myself from jumping in there with him. Every
inch they lowered him, I felt further away from my father. Only after I heard
the sound of the coffin reach the end of the hole did I notice that he was gone
forever. There would be no weekend trips to the zoo, no afternoon nickelodeons,
no more adventures. The only thing left was reality; and I never wanted to face
that. Everyone had turned around to leave the cemetery. Everyone except me. I
wasn't ready to go. I didn't know if I'd ever be ready to leave. I was standing
on the edge of the hole and I wanted so much to jump in. I gasped as I felt my
mother's hand on my shoulder. She stood there silently for a moment, and then
out of nowhere, she told me that it was time to leave. I remember her voice
being low, but plain and simple, like a stab at my heart. I realized then that
I was at the mercy of my mother and that I would be for the rest of my life. My
life was about to plunge downhill and I didn't know if it would ever get any
better."
Jack stared at the gravestone, and had great
empathy for Rose. He had gone through the same feeling when his parents had died
in the house fire.
"Rose," Jack replied softly.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't worry about it. I'm sure your father's
watching over you right now. And remember, I'm here for you. I lived for you. I
knew I couldn't live or die without you. And I'll always be here for you. I'm
sure your father would too if he were alive, but he's still here. He's here in
spirit. He's here in your thoughts and in your memories. So, he never left you,
Rose. And he never will."
Rose stopped crying, and looked up at Jack
with a sad smile. "Thank you, Jack. Thank you for always being here."
And then Rose cried again. She cried both
tears of sorrow and tears of joy. And Jack was there to wipe them away, and
somehow managed to make everything right.