HOW I FOUND MY LOVE...JACK DAWSON: IN ROSE'S EYES ONLY
Chapter Four

April 13, 1912

That day, after breakfast, I decided to go talk to Jack, the man who saved my life.

The nearer I got to steerage, the more I wanted to turn back.

As I entered third class, more people started to stare at me, like if I was the president or something.

Then, I saw Jack sitting with a young girl, showing her a leather pad.

Does Jack already have a child, and wife?

No, he couldn't have.

"Jack," I shouted out. "Can I speak to you in private?"

As Jack got his papers together, he said, "Sure."

We started to talk, and then he said, "Hello again, Rose."

I smiled, and said, "Hello again, Jack."

As we walked down the deck, we entered first class. People started to look at Jack and I.

"Huh, so this is what first class looks like. It smells better, anyway."

I chuckled.

"Rose, I don’t think we have been properly introduced. I’m Jack Dawson."

He let out his hand, and I shook his hand, and said, "Pleased to meet you. I’m Rose DeWitt Bukater."

We chuckled.

"Well, now that's over, we get to continue with our conversation."

"So, that girl you were with just a couple of minutes ago...was that your--"

Jack looked at me, and said, "My daughter? No. She is just a passenger."

I chuckled. "Forgive me," I said.

"No need to be embarrassed." Jack chuckled.

"So, Jack, tell me a little about yourself."

We walked a little bit more.

"Well, when I was little, both of my parents died in a fire. Then, after that, I went to live with my uncle, who is an architect. Then, when I was eighteen..."

Later in the day...

"So, Rose, we've chewed over everything, and how great the weather's been, but I don't think that is why you wanted to talk to me."

"Mr. Dawson, I--"

"Jack."

"Jack. I wanted to thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome," he said.

"Look, I know what you must be thinking. Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?"

"No, Rose. That wasn't what I was thinking. What I was thinking was, why would she think that she had no way out?"

I looked at him, and said, "Well, it was my whole world, and all the people in it, and the inertia of my life, plunging ahead, and me powerless to stop it."

Putting my hand up to show him the ring, he took a closer look at it by holding my hand. I felt comforted for some reason.

He then replied with, "God, look at that thing. You would have gone straight to the bottom."

I continued, saying, "Five hundred invitations have gone out. All of Philadelphia society will be there. And all the while I feel like I’m...standing in a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs, and no one even looks up."

Then, Jack said, "Do you love him, Rose?"

I knew the answer, but I just couldn't say it, though he knew that I felt a sense of uneasiness when he asked me that.

"Pardon me?"

"Well, it's a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?"

I was very frustrated.

"You’re being very rude. You shouldn't be asking me this."

"Why can't you just answer the question?"

"This is not a suitable conversation. You don't know me, and I don't know you, and we are not having this conversation at all. You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous, and I am leaving now. Jack, Mr. Dawson, it has been a pleasure." I took his hand and started to shake it. "I sought you out to thank you. Now I have thanked you--"

Interrupting me, he said, "And even insulted me."

"Well, you deserved it."

As I shook his hand the whole time, he then said, "I thought you were leaving."

"I am." As I was walking, I turned around, and said to him, "You are so annoying. Wait! I don't have to leave. This is my part of the ship. You leave," and pointing to his side.

But still standing there, he said, "Well, well. Now look who is being rude."

Trying to change the subject, I said, "What is this stupid thing you have been carrying around?"

Taking the book away from him, I opened it and looked at the drawings. "What are you, an artist or something? Well, these are rather good. They're a very good, actually. Jack, this is exquisite work."

"No. They did not think much of them in old Paris," Jack said.

"Paris. You do get around for a poor--" Remembering my manners, I continued in a different way. "Well, for a person of limited means."

Jack, knowing what I was going to say, said, "Go on, you can say it. A poor guy."

Turning the page, there were some ladies, naked. "Well, well, well. And these were drawn from life?"

Then a man walked by, and I closed the book so the man would not see the drawings, but when he left I opened it back up.

"Well, that's a good thing about Paris," Jack said. "Lots of girls willing to take their clothes off."

Turning the pages more, I noticed that he used a woman in most of his drawings.

"You like this woman. You used her several times."

"Well, she had beautiful hands, you see," Jack said.

Smiling, I said, "I think you must have had a love affair with her."

"No, no, no," Jack said. "Just with her hands. She was a one legged-prostitute."

Looking at the next page, I saw her. It wasn't pretty. "Uh...oh," I replied.

"Ah, she had a good sense of humor," Jack said. "Oh, and this woman. She came in and sat at this bar every night, wearing every piece of jewelry she owned. Just waiting for her long lost love. We called her Madame Bijou. See how her clothes are all moth eaten?"

Looking at him, then his drawings, I said, "Well, you do have a gift, Jack. You do you see people."

"I see you," he said.

Standing straight, I said, "And?"

"You wouldn't have jumped."

Suddenly, a burst of wind came, and scattered all of Jack's drawings around the boat deck, and even in the water.

"Oh, my goodness. I am truly sorry," I said, with the deepest sympathy.

"Oh, that's okay. There's plenty more where that came from." Collecting all the drawings, he let them go, and scattered them in the wind.

Laughing, I said, "You are deranged."

As Jack helped me up, he said, "Shall we continue our stroll, Rose?"

I smiled, and said, "Of course." As we strolled along, I said to Jack, "You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist...living in a garret, poor but free!"

Laughing, Jack said, "You wouldn't last for two days. There’s no hot water, and hardly any caviar."

Responding, angry in a flash, I said, "Listen, buster...I hate caviar! And I'm tired of people dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the head."

Then, Jack said, with sincere apology, "I'm sorry...really I am."

I let a sigh of guilt out, and said, "Well, that's all right. There's something in me, Jack. I feel it. I don't know what it is--whether I should be an artist, or...I don't know...a dancer. Like Isadora Duncan...a wild, pagan spirit..." Then, I leapt forward, and landed deftly, and whirled like a dervish. Then, I saw something ahead, and my face lit up. "...or a moving picture actress!"

I took Jack's hand, and ran, pulling him along the deck toward Daniel and Mary Marvin. As Daniel was cranking the big, wooden movie camera, Mary posed stiffly against the rail. Telling her what to do.

Then, I got in front of her, and shot a theatrical pose. Jack was on a deck chair, pretending to be a pasha; Mary and I pretend to be fanning him like his slave girls. Then, we made a new scene. Jack was on his knees, pleading with his hands clasped, while I was standing, turning my head in bored disdain.

Then, we did one more scene. I cranked the camera, while Daniel and Jack had a western shoot-out. Jack won, and leered into the lens, twirling an air mustache like Snidely Whiplash.

As we said good-bye to Mary and Daniel, I said, "So, what next, Mr. Wandering Jack?"

He continued by saying, "Well, then logging got to be too much work, so I went down to Los Angeles, to the pier in Santa Monica."

"Why can't I just be like you, Jack? Just head out to the horizon whenever I feel like it. Say if we go to that pier sometime, even if we only just think about it," I told him.

"No," he began. "We will really do it. Drink cheap beer, ride on the roller coaster until we throw up, and we will ride on the beach right in the surf. Now, none of that side saddle stuff. You got to do it like a real cowboy."

Wait a minute, I thought. "You mean, one leg on each side?"

"Yes," he said.

"Can you show me?" I asked.

"Sure," Jack said. "If you like."

"Teach me to ride like a man," I said.

"And chew tobacco like a man," Jack said.

"And spit like a man," I said.

"What, they did not teach you that in finishing school?" he said.

"No." I chuckled.

"Well, come on. I'll show ya." Then, he pulled my hand gently.

"Jack, no. Jack," I said.

"Come on," he said, pulling me some more.

"Wait, Jack. I couldn't possibly, Jack." Right then, I was very embarrassed. He spit right there and then! "That's disgusting," I said.

"Here," he said. "You try."

Carefully, I spit.

"Pitiful. Come on. You really got to get some leather chewing. Hawk your neck." He spit again.

As I stood there, getting some spit up, hawking my neck, I tried it again.

"That was great," he said. "See that fence rail there?" He pointed to the rail.

"Uh-huh," I said, with spit in my mouth.

He then really got some spit up, and then suddenly I saw my mother with The Countess of Rothes and Molly Brown. Quickly, I nudged Jack on the arm. Turning, he saw them, but probably did not know who they were.

"Mother," I started to say. "May I introduce to you Jack Dawson."

With spit on Jack's chin, Molly gave him the sign you got something on the chin. Mother, on the other hand, looked at him like an insect that must be squashed quickly.

"Charmed, I'm sure," she said.

As I told the Countess and Molly about Jack's rescue, Mother did not care one thing about it.

"Well, Jack, it looks like you're a guy to have around in a sticky spot," said Molly. Then, the dinner horn blew. "Why do they insist on announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?" asked Molly.

Laughing, I said, "Shall we go dress, Mother?" Turning, I said, "See you at dinner, Jack."

Waving good-bye, we left to go change.

"Rose, look at you...out in the sun with no hat. Honestly!" said my mother.

"Mother, I am fine. See?" I said.

"Yes, well...um...here is my cabin. I'll knock when I'm ready," she said.

Nodding my head, I walked down the corridor until I reached my cabin.

Opening my door, I went over to my closet, and tried to find a really pretty dress. As I put on my dress, I thought for a minute. What happens if Jack can't seem to get the nerve to show up?

No, he is not that kind of person. As I sat on the couch waiting for the knock, Mother knocked on the door.

She asked, "Rose, are you ready?"

Oh, no. I forgot to do my hair. "No, I need to do something that I forgot."

Mother let out a sigh, and said, "All right, Rose, but hurry!"

"Trudy!" I called for my maid.

"Yes, miss?" she said.

"Quickly, come over here and help me do my hair."

"Yes, miss," she said.

It did not take very long to put my hair up with some help. I usually did my hair alone, but I was in a hurry. As I walked quickly down the stairs, I stopped after I opened the door for the grand staircase. As I walked down the stairs, I saw him. From my point of view, it looked like he was practicing for something like shaking hands. As I kept on walking, he saw me, and stopped, and walked over to the stairs. As I stopped on the last stair, he took my hand, and kissed it.

"I saw that in a Nickelodeon once, and I always wanted to do it," Jack said.

Laughing, we locked arms. As older couples went by, they gave us this look, like we were a newly married couple.

As I nudged Cal on the arm, I said, "Darling, surely you remember Mr. Dawson."

As he examined Jack, he then said, "Dawson, you could almost pass as a gentleman." I could see that he tried to hold back his anger from all of us, and to tell you the truth, I was a little bit upset with Cal.

So then, Jack took a breath, and said, "Almost." As we started to walk down to the dining room, he was quiet.

"Is everything all right, Jack?" I asked him.

"Yeah, everything is okay. How about you? Are you okay?"

I smiled, and said, "Yes, I’m fine."

I could tell he was nervous, but he never faltered. As we landed on the bottom of the stairs where we were to eat, I thought it would be a good time to show Jack who everyone was.

"There's the Countess of Rothes. And that's John Jacob Astor, the richest man on the ship. His little wife there is my age, and in a delicate condition." Looking over there, I said, "See how she's trying to hide it? Quite the scandal. And there's Mr. Guggenheim, and his mistress, Madame Aubert. Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with the children, of course. And over there we have Sir Cosmo and Lucille, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals."

As we walked down the dining saloon more, Molly said, "Care to escort another lady to dinner? Remember, Jack, they love money, so pretend to own a gold mine, and you’re in the club."

I thought for a minute. That was the truth.

Then, Molly yelled out, "Hey, Astor!"

"Well, hello Molly..." he said.

"J.J, Madeline, I would like you to meet Jack Dawson," I said.

As Jack shook Madeline's hand, she said, "How do you do?"

"Are you one of the Boston Dawsons?" Astor asked.

"Ah, no," Jack started. "The Chippewa Falls Dawsons, actually."

Astor said, "Oh." He looked perplexed, but he pretended he had heard of them before.

Then, out of the blue, Madeline leaned over to me, and said, "It's a pity we're both spoken for."

They assumed he was one of us...heir to a railroad fortune...new money, obviously, but still a member of the club.

Mother could always be a counted upon. As Jack helped me sit down, he still was cool as a clam. "Tell us about the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship," Mother said.

"The best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats," he replied.

Of course, everyone took it as a joke, except for Mr. Ismay. His eyes widened when Jack said that. It was quite funny. Then, of course, Cal had to explain why I was not strolling around the saloon with him.

"Mr. Dawson is joining us from third class. He was of some assistance to my fiancée last night."

I leaned in, and said, "It appears that Mr. Dawson is quite a fine artist. He was kind enough to show me some of his work today."

As Cal got some caviar, he said, "Rose and I differ in our definition of art, but not to impugn your work, sir." He looked at Jack.

Jack just waved his hand, saying that it was all right. Then, I saw Jack with his napkin still on his plate. Quickly, I coughed to get his attention. When I did, I signaled to him get your napkin off your plate. He took it off, and then the waiter came with the caviar.

He asked Jack, "Now, how do you take your caviar, sir?"

"No thanks. Never did like it much," he responded.

"So, where do you exactly live, Mr. Dawson?" Mother asked.

As Jack paused, he said, "Well, my address right now is the R.M.S Titanic. And then, after that, I am on God's good humor."

I then saw that glare in my mother's eyes. It was that what should I ask look. She then said, "And how do you have means to travel?"

Jack looked down at his plate, and said, "Well, I work my way from place to place. Tramp steamers and such. And I won my ticket for Titanic on a lucky hand at poker." Looking at me, he continued, "A very lucky hand."

Then, Colonel Gracie said, "All life is a game of luck."

After Cal took a sip of wine, he said, "A real man makes his own luck, Gracie."

"And you find that rootless existence appealing, do you?" As I thought, I can't believe my mother said that. She has some nerve!

Jack did not look happy either, but he continued, and said, "Why, yes ma'am. I do. I've got air in my lungs and a few blank sheets of paper. I like waking up in the morning without knowing what I am going to do, or who I am going to meet. Like today, on the grandest ship in the world and having champagne with you fine people."

Everyone chuckling, he tells the waiter that he wants more champagne. Continuing, he said, "I figure life is a gift, and I don’t intend on wasting it." When Jack said that, Cal had a cigarette in his mouth, and was looking for something to light it with. Jack threw him a lighter, and said, "Oh, here you go, Cal." Cal caught it, which to me was surprising. "To make each day count," Jack ended.

"Well said, Jack," Molly said.

As I lifted my glass, I said, "To making it count."

Everyone joined in. "To making it count."

Cal lifted his glass up like he really did not want to make the toast.

Later that night...

"...why, Mr. Brown had no idea I hid the money in the stove. So, he comes home drunk as a pig celebrating, and he lights a fire," Molly said.

As the night carried on, dinner was almost done. I leaned over to Jack, and said, "Next it will be brandies in the smoking room."

Then, Colonel Gracie said, "Gentlemen, join me for a brandy?"

"Then, they will retreat to a cloud of smoke, and congratulate themselves for being masters of the universe."

"Ladies, thank you for your company," said Ismay.

"Joining us, Dawson?" Colonel Gracie asked. "You don't want to stay out here with the ladies, now do you?"

"No thanks. I better be heading back," Jack said.

As Jack came over to me, I asked him, "Jack, must you go?"

"Time for me to go row with the other slaves," he said. As he grabbed my hand, he gave it another kiss. How warm it felt for his lips to be on my hand. "Good night, Rose," he whispered.

As he walked away, he gently slipped something into my hand. Carefully, I opened the piece of paper. In writing, it said, Make it count, meet me at the clock. As I put my gloves back on, I headed to the clock. There he was, examining the clock. As I carefully walked up the stairs, he turned around to see who it was.

"So, do you want to go to a real party?" he asked me.

I paused for a minute, and said, "Sure. Why not?"

As we took the lift down to third class, he said, "Now, Rose, are you sure you can handle this party? I mean, it is not like that first class stuff at all. I mean, down here, when there is actually music, we dance."

As I laughed, I said, "I am sure."

As the lift stopped, we could hear the music. We stepped out of the lift. "Here, Rose. Take my hand, so we won't get lost."

As I gave him my hand, we ran into where the party was. As we got closer, the music got louder. "I am going to dance with this little girl. This is Cora, Rose. Rose, Cora."

"I'm Cora," said Cora.

"Hello. Pleased to meet you," I said.

"Well, hello there."

"Come on, Rose." As Jack escorted me to a table, I noticed that there were two men at the table. "Rose, I am going to dance with Cora. Oh...um...Tommy, this is Rose Dewitt Bukater," Jack said.

"Hello," Tommy said.

"Pleased to meet you," I said.

"And this is my roommate, Olaf."

The other gentleman could not speak any English. The only thing he could say was "Hello."

I said hello back to him. As the night carried on, the music was great, the beer was nice and tasty, and Jack was so kind to Cora.

As Jack stopped with the music, he told little Cora that he was going to dance with me. What happens if I step on the toes? Oh, Rose, don't worry about it!

"Come here," he said, as he pointed at me.

"What?" I replied.

"Come with me."

All right. Think. How do I tell him in an easy way that I have not danced with another person for a while? "Jack. Jack, wait. Listen, I can't do this."

"We need to get a little closer, like this."

Did he not hear a word I just said? I can't do this. All right, think. What else could I say? I know. "I don't know the steps."

Jack kept on following, and said, "Neither do I. Just go with it. Don't think!"

Laughing, we danced around, everyone watching us. Then, we stepped on a big platform. As Jack let go of my hand, he did some fancy footwork. Hmm, I remember doing that. Let's see if I still remember it. Quickly, I handed my shoes to a young woman. In the future, I would find out that her name was Celine Little. Then, it just all came back to me. I felt like a kid again. We locked arms and danced around some more. Then, he stopped, and started to swing around with me at the same time. The faster the music got, the faster we twirled.

"Jack, no," I said. He did not listen to me.

"Yahoo!" he said.

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. Afterwards, Jack and I took a break, and got a beer. As I chugged my beer, Jack looked at me, and I told him, "What? You think a first class girl can't drink?" Suddenly, a guy bumped into me, making me spill my drink all over myself.

"Are you all right, Rose?" Jack asked me, with the deepest concern.

"I'm fine," I told him.

Then, I heard glasses fall on the floor. I went over to where the sound came from. It was Tommy, having an arm fight with another guy.

As I took the cigarette out of Tommy's mouth, I said, "So, you think your big tough men? Let's see you do this. Hold my dress up, Jack. Hold it up." As I put my arms up in the air, my feet followed. Everyone watched me, as if I was an angel from God. Suddenly, I lost my balance, and fell into Jack's arms.

"I haven't done that in years!" I told Jack.

Then, some more Irish music came on. As Jack held my hand, we started to create a chain. It only lasted about fifteen minutes, though.

After all the fun, most everybody went to go retire for the night, or go kiss.

So, Jack and I thought we should go out on the boat deck to take a breath of sea air. As we opened the door, I felt a rush of cold air come in at my face.

Immediately, I said, "Boy, it is chilly out tonight."

Jack handed me his coat, and said, "Here, take my jacket."

I put it on, and said, "Thank you, Jack." As we strolled along, we talked about little things.

"Can I ask you something, Rose?"

Pausing, I said, "I don't see why not."

"Have you heard of that song Come Josephine?"

Pausing, I said, "I don't know. Sing a little of it."

As he cleared his throat, pretending he was a big singer he sang, "Come Josephine in my flying machine..."

"Oh, yeah. That song!" I said.

Strolling along, we both sang, "Come Josephine in my flying machine, and it's up she goes, up she goes."

As I leaned against a rail, I said to Jack, "Isn’t it magnificent?" I paused for a minute, and continued, saying, "They're such small people, Jack...my crowd. They think they’re giants on the earth, but they’re not even dust in God’s eye. They live inside this tiny little champagne bubble...and someday the bubble’s going to burst."

Jack leaned to the rail next to me, his hand just touching mine.

He looked at me, and said, "You’re not one of them. There’s been a mistake."

I looked at Jack, and said, "A mistake?"

He nodded his head, and said, "Uh huh. You got mailed to the wrong address."

Laughing, I said, "I did, didn’t I?" I looked at the sky, and pointed. "Look! A shooting star."

"That was a long one. My father used to say that whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven."

I looked at Jack, and said, "I like that. Aren’t we supposed to make a wish on it?"

Jack looked at me. He said, "What do you wish for?"

"Something I can't have. Good night, Jack." And I closed the door to go to bed.

Chapter Five
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