Written by Just Another Wannabe
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
"Mommy, the water’s too
cold."
Rose opened her eyes. The water
was cold; she felt it as she dipped her feet into the Atlantic. It was colder
than it normally was this time of year--the time of their family vacation.
She sighed. "I’ve felt the
ocean much colder, sweetie. Much colder…"
Every year Rose would just dip
her feet into the ocean. She could never bring herself to go all the way in;
that would be too much. The tips of her toes were just perfect. She’d close her
eyes, breathing deeply as the waves gently crashed against her feet. And then
she would remember…
The cold Atlantic washed over
her, and she could feel Jack touching her again. She never felt closer to him,
as if his disintegrated body were embracing her once again. The wind that
surged into her face carried his voice, sweet whispers of "I love
you" being replayed in his flawless tone.
When she opened her eyes and
looked into the distance, she could swear she saw the ghost of the Titanic
sailing on towards its destination. The destination it would never reach. Rose
could make out the people standing on the dock, leaning forward trying to
glimpse their new lives. She could see Jack standing on the edge with someone
who used to be herself, sweetly holding her, helping her learn how to spread
her wings and fly.
And then the most charming
memories would fade into nightmares. The wind would blow harder, drowning out
her lover’s voice. The happy squeals of children on the beach would be
distorted into helpless cries of the thousands of innocent passengers who died.
She could make out the ship sinking, her most nightmarish memory coming back to
life. Her fellow passengers, who were so hopeful about their futures, were
being overcome by the rough waters. And Jack, who had just moments before been
holding her so dearly, drifted away into his watery grave. The waves would
sneakily gain energy, crashing harder against the shore, striking halfway up
her calves. Rose would leap out of the waters with a sudden shriek, causing her
husband to become overbearingly concerned. She’d have to excuse herself from
the beach and go back to the room, the stony, frozen image of Jack staring at
her as she drifted off to sleep.
Her husband understood her
withdrawal during these trips--or, at least, he thought he did. As her children
grew, they, too, learned that these beach trips meant more than a family
vacation--it was a gust of her past that could never cease to haunt her.
Her dreams during these vacations
were rougher than anyplace else. The ship would sink much quicker. She never
found Jack handcuffed for a crime he never committed, so he would die alone.
She would find him, but would slice off his hand. His last moments would be
spent screaming in agony. She was too stupid to jump out of the lifeboat when
she did. They never got to spend those last few minutes together--the minutes
that convinced her to live her life.
Several times over the years, her
husband would suggest not going to the beach for a vacation. Rose wouldn’t be
surprised if China could hear their voices arguing about it.
"How could you even suggest
that? We have to go! We need a vacation!"
"I’m thinking of you! I
thought it would help, seeing as the ocean freaks you out too much for you to
actually enjoy yourself."
He was right and she knew it. It
didn’t make sense to keep going back to a place that caused her so much
heartache. They could have easily found another vacation spot. But in a twisted
way, Rose loved the pain. Well, not so much as that she needed to feel that
pain. Because she needed to remember the single most important event that had
ever happened in her life. Without the ocean, it was frozen in her memory,
frozen like her friends who had frozen to death in the icy waters. These were
the friends who she never actually knew, but was connected to through the
water. The trouble with things that were frozen was simple; once they found the
sun, they would always melt. A frozen memory would fade in the blaze of time.
She had to suffer again year after year, for the simple reason that if she
didn’t hurt for the Titanic, she wouldn’t feel anything for it. And not
remembering was the worst thing that could ever happen.
So, she’d go to the ocean. She’d
allow the ghost to haunt her year after year. She’d watch the waves crashing
against the shore, like they had crashed at the pier where she boarded and as
they tumbled over her body as they almost swallowed her. She’d remember
Jack--his sweet voice and soft touch. It was worth the rush of grief that was
sure to follow. It was always worth it…
"Nana, the water’s too
cold."
Rose opened her eyes. Instead of
looking at her granddaughter, she fixated her eyes far away from the shore, to
the ocean’s heart. Because it was there that her heart had been for decades.
The wind gushed into her face;
her grayed hair danced in the breeze. She could feel Jack’s sweet breath, hear
his whispers. After a few moments, the wind surged faster, painfully. Rose
sighed.
"I’ve felt the ocean much
colder, sweetie. Much colder…"
The End.
