April 18, 1912
The shimmering lights of the New York harbor shone like a beacon in the distance. Rose DeWitt Bukater walked over to the railing of the Carpathia and lifted her hands onto the wet, cold steel. It was raining, which seemed so fitting. It was as if heaven itself was crying and mourning the loss of the Titanic and the fifteen hundred souls that perished with her.
She glanced around at the many faces surrounding her. They were all of them sad, desolate, and grief-stricken. No one spoke. What was there to say? Fate had dealt them a cruel hand and now they had to take the shattered pieces of their lives and try to go on.
But go on to what? Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. As she stood there feeling the hopelessness of her life, she remembered Jack’s last words to her.
"You must promise me that you’ll survive. That you won’t give up, no matter what happens. No matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise."
"I promise."
"Never let go."
"I will never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go."
She closed her eyes against the memory of it. It wasn’t fair. Why was he taken from her? Why? She had only just found him and now he was gone. This was supposed to be their time together, their start of a new life. Now it was over before it had even begun.
"Jack," she whispered, "I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can go on without you."
"We’re docking now, Miss," a voice said suddenly behind her.
Rose turned and saw a young steward standing beside her holding an umbrella. He was smiling gently, almost sympathetically toward her. "Do you have family waiting for you?"
"Family?" she repeated. Her thoughts immediately turned to her mother. If she were seek her mother out, would things be different? Would she still try to force to her to marry Cal? In the deepest part of her heart, she wanted to go to her mother, to seek comfort from her, but she knew that was impossible. As much as Rose might want things to change, they would not, and in the end, she would be trapped just as before, and that was something she could not let happen. "No." She shook her head firmly. "I have no family waiting for me. I’m alone."
He nodded slightly, as if not totally convinced of her declaration. But he moved on, leaving Rose at the railing.
The Carpathia slowly came into the harbor, gliding by the Statue of Liberty. Rose was drawn to the statue standing tall and proud. She represented freedom and liberty to the many people who had come here for a new life.
Freedom…the word rang clear and true to her. Freedom to do as she wanted, freedom to break away from the constricting life she had lived thus far, freedom to do all of the things she had only dreamed of doing. Jack had given her that gift.
Immediately, she saw his smiling face in her mind’s eye. She could see his scruffy blond hair and his clear blue eyes. Had it only been days ago that she was with him, holding him, laughing with him, and loving him? If only she could see him once more, talk to him once more. If only…
While those thoughts were running through her head, an officer came up to her with an umbrella and a clipboard. He stopped in front of her and held the clipboard up.
"Can I take your name please, love?"
Rose turned toward him. For a split second, she almost answered DeWitt Bukater, but it lodged in her throat. In a clear and firm voice that held no hesitation, she answered, "Dawson." She looked back toward the statue and answered again. "Rose Dawson."
And with that, Rose DeWitt Bukater--socialite, debutante, and poor little rich girl--was gone. She was no longer that person and she knew that she would never return to that life again. As far as anyone was concerned, she had died on the Titanic with the other victims. She was free. Thanks to Jack, she was now free.
"Thank you," the officer said as he moved on to the next person, so unaware of what had just occurred. There was no way he could know that Rose had just opened the door to her new life. She stood transfixed while the rain continued to fall on her. As she pushed her hands deeper into the pockets of the heavy coat, her fingers brushed against something cold and hard. Feeling around, she clutched it and lifted it out.
The Heart of the Ocean glittered in her hand. Realization dawned on her that she had on Cal’s overcoat and apparently he had put the diamond in it before putting it on her.
She couldn’t help but wonder if it had been she or it he sought when he came to the steerage area the day before. Regardless of which it was, seeing him wandering among the survivors sent ripples of anger through her. How dare he still be alive when so many men who were more deserving than he were dead? It made no sense and it went against everything she had ever believed to be true.
As she stared down at the necklace, she thought how cruel it seemed fate was. It took Jack from her, but left her with something that represented all she hated about her life up to that point. With a heavy sigh, she placed the necklace back in the coat pocket, letting the heaviness of it slip from her fingers.
Finally, the ship docked and they were allowed to disembark by order of class. First class passengers were let off first, second class came next and lastly, steerage. Throngs of people crowded the docks to catch a glimpse of the survivors and the lifeboats that hung like ghostly figures on the side of the ship.
The press was everywhere, grabbing people as they came off, hoping to get a statement or a word of what happened. Of course, their first questions revolved around whether the wealthiest passengers had somehow survived. Already, some of the survivors were telling their accounts of what had happened and some were still in shock, having to be led around.
Chaos reigned supreme on the dock, and after Rose had gotten off with the rest of the steerage passengers, she stayed away from the crowd as much as possible. There were so many people around, it wasn’t hard to get lost among them. She didn’t know what she was going to do or where she was going to go, but she knew she had to get away from there as quickly as she could before anyone recognized her.
As she made her way through the throng, she looked up and stopped, her heart frozen in her chest. It was her mother and Cal. They were walking toward a silver Cadillac, the door held open by the driver. Nathan Hockley peered out as the driver held an umbrella over his head. She stepped back in the shadows to remain hidden from them, but was close enough to hear what was said.
Mr. Hockley stepped out and reached for Ruth’s hands. "Ruth, I’m so sorry for your loss. I know this a shock to us all, but most of all to you, my dear."
Ruth only nodded slightly. He bent and kissed her cheek and then helped her climb inside the automobile. He turned to Cal and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I’m sorry, son. I don’t know what to say. Your mother and I are truly astounded by everything that has transpired. We shall certainly see to it that a prompt investigation is made into the cause of this disaster."
"Thank you, Father." Cal shook his head but made no move towards him.
"The White Star Line will answer for this. You mark my words." Mr. Hockley continued with his declarations.
"Father." Cal rubbed his face, as if considering what he would say. "Everything was lost. Everything." He emphasized the last word. "Le Coeur de la Mer. There was nothing I could do."
Mr. Hockley nodded his understanding. "Nothing to worry about, son. I insured it the day you departed. I am not a foolish man. I always take precautions against such things."
"Yes, Father." Cal took a deep breath and released it. "I knew you would take care of it. You always do."
Nathan patted him on the shoulder again and then urged him get into the automobile. He got in behind his son.
Rose watched all of this with disdain as they drove off into the darkness. She felt nothing. No regret, no sorrow, and certainly no remorse for allowing them to believe her dead. Lifting her head, she turned and went the other direction towards the city, walking further and further away from the crowded dock. And she never once looked back.
As she walked along the dark streets, trying to decide what to do, Rose realized that she really had no idea where to even begin. She had the necklace, but that would hardly do her much good at present. She needed money and a place to stay until she could figure out where to go from there.
Ducking into the alcove of a building, she decided to do a search of Cal’s coat. If she knew Caledon Hockley like she thought she did, he would have put more than the necklace in there. Even in the face of disaster, Cal’s thoughts would have been of his precious possessions and his money and how to get them off the sinking ship.
In two inside pockets of the coat, she found what she had been looking for. She pulled out several stacks of bills and held them up to do a cursory check of the amount. It was more than enough to start her out so that she would not be completely destitute. She felt no guilt in keeping the necklace or the money, because as far as she was concerned, they were payment for the hell she had lived through.
Rose hitched the coat tightly around herself and set out to find a room and something to eat. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, and only wanted to get out of the wet clothes she had on and into a warm bed. She went down a few more blocks, making several turns before coming into a more residential part of the city.
Rows and rows of houses lined the streets on either side. As she made her way down the sidewalk, she finally came upon a two-story clapboard house with a sign out front indicating it was a boarding house. Coming up the walk, she stepped up on the porch and knocked on the door. Before long, an older, dark-haired woman pulled back the curtain from the window set in the door and looked out at her.
"Can I help you?" she asked through the door.
"I need a room, if you have one."
The woman frowned as she looked her over. Rose knew she must look wretched standing there in her torn, dirty silk dress, along with Cal’s too big overcoat. She pushed her wet and listless copper hair back from her pale face. "Please," she pleaded to the woman. "I need someplace to stay. I was on the Titanic and I have nowhere else to go."
The woman’s eyes grew large and her mouth fell open when she heard what Rose said. Quickly, she opened the door and ushered her in. "Oh, my goodness, child. You were on the Titanic?"
"Yes," Rose answered quietly.
"Oh, my goodness," she repeated, shaking her head. "Such a terrible tragedy. All those poor people."
"Do you have a room?" Rose asked again, not wanting to be rude, but desperately wanting to go lie down and be alone.
"Yes, I do happen to have one. Right this way, child," the woman said to her as she led her upstairs. "It’s been all over the papers. But I hear that Mrs. Astor made it."
Rose bit her lip. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t know if she would ever be ready.
"I’m sorry, child," the woman said as they came to the top of the stairs and she saw the look on Rose’s face. "I shouldn’t be running on so."
Rose nodded slightly. She understood the woman’s curiosity. It was only natural.
"Your room is right here." The woman pointed to a door.
"Thank you."
"My name is Abigail Calvert, if you need anything."
"Rose Dawson," Rose told her. "And thank you for renting me this room. I’m very grateful."
Abigail smiled at her. "Generally, I don’t rent to folks I don’t know, but seein’ as how you survived such a tragedy, I feel it my Christian duty to help you."
She opened the door for Rose and walked her in. She turned on the light and then pulled down the shade.
"I don’t expect you have anything to change into?"
"No. This is all I have left." Rose clutched the coat closer around her.
"I’ll get you a dry gown and something warm to drink."
Abigail left the room, leaving Rose alone for a moment to gather her thoughts. She sat down on the bed and looked around the room. It was by no means luxurious, but it was dry and warm. Next to the bed was a bedside table and there was also a wardrobe and a chest with a mirror over it. The pillow next to her looked so inviting she couldn’t help but lay down on it. She would just stay this way until Abigail came back with a gown. That was the last thing she remembered thinking before closing her eyes.