A LIFE’S TRAGEDY
Chapter Ten

We sat there for a long while, talking about the problems with the White Star Line and the lawsuits they would face. My mind wasn’t really on the topic. I stared at Mr. Ismay, who sat alone and in shock across the room from us.

"Name, sir?" A steward from the Carpathia stood at our table, clipboard in hand.

"Caledon Hockley," I replied, almost sadly. Then I looked up at him. "Tell me, do you know if Rose DeWitt Bukater is here?"

Ruth looked at me, then up at the man. Hope and desperation filled her eyes. He flipped through the pages.

"Well, she hasn’t been recorded yet," he said glumly. "But not to worry, sir. Not everyone is accounted for yet."

I nodded and sat back in my chair, brandy in hand. I watched him as he took the names of everyone at our table. I couldn’t hear him speak, or them answer. It was as though my whole world spun in slow motion.

Two days passed without my knowledge. The Carpathia pulled into New York. I stood with Ruth as the Statue of Liberty came into view, standing in all her beauty and grace. I had seen Lady Liberty on several occasions, but this was one time I knew it would be with Rose, and now she was gone.

Again I was filled with anger, a deep hatred for Jack Dawson. I knew Ruth felt the same way, though she never admitted it.

Ruth and I parted ways in New York. Immediately after leaving Ruth in New York, I went to my father in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I had received a telegram from him the moment I had arrived back in America.

The train ride was long and exhausting. I hadn’t slept well since probably the first night aboard the Titanic. After that, my nights were filled with visions of Catherine, hopes for my future marriage, and then the tragedy of April fourteenth. The Carpathia was nice, of course, very elegant and fine. Not so much as the Titanic, however. But I couldn’t find sleep there, either.

I arrived at my father’s house on April 20, 1912. He waited for me on the lawn as my taxi pulled up. As I paid the man for bringing me here promptly, my mind went back to Spicer Lovejoy. We hadn’t been the best of friends, of course, but I missed him nevertheless. He had been hired by my father.

I knew he would ask me about the diamond. As I approached him, I thought of all I could say to him.

"Caledon," he greeted, and huge smile stretched across his older gentleman’s face. He opened his arms and took me in a fatherly embrace.

"Hello, Father," I greeted, forcing a smile.

"I want to hear all about it, son. But come. Let’s go in for some brandy," he offered, leading the way up to his house.

His house was rich in décor, of course. Gold detail, expensive velvet furniture. Magnificent, of course. Nothing less than that which was for royalty. Nathan Hockley, my father, was always one to splurge on the unneeded. So was I, really.

I sat there silently, politely sipping the brandy. I sighed, setting the glass back on the white coaster. I stared into his eyes.

"Whenever you’re ready, Caledon, I want to know everything," he spoke softly. "Tell me what happened with Rose."

I sat there, thinking about this for a long moment. Here I was, a thirty-year-old man, not married, and now I wouldn’t be for quite a while. Of course, I could find a woman who wanted my money, but I didn’t want that. Deep in my heart, I knew what I wanted, yet I couldn’t have it.

"Rose fell in love," I said with a shrug. It was at that moment, sitting there at that glass table with my father, that I realized that I didn’t blame Rose. She had fallen in love with Jack. It wasn’t my love for her that angered me. It was my pride. I couldn’t allow myself to be embarrassed by her leaving me for a steerage passenger.

"Did she make it?" he asked dismally.

I slowly shook my head, saying no. He nodded sadly. I was tired of this melancholy atmosphere. It was almost a week ago. I thought it was time to get back to life, no matter how hard that was going to be.

"What about Ruth?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes. She’s still in New York, I should imagine."

"I see," he said. "Why didn’t you bring Rose with you when you got off the ship?" he demanded finally.

I was surprised he would ask such a thing. "I told you she fell in love!" I almost shouted.

"With whom? Who is he? I’ll take care of him. I’ll destroy his business," he said sternly, showing the business side of himself even moreso now.

I laughed out loud. "That may be a bit difficult on two levels."

"And what might they be?" He was clearly angry.

"One, the man is dead, and two, he was steerage! Poor! He had no business!" I laughed again. I didn’t care what he thought.

"Steerage? You let her get away with a wretched third class man?" He leaned forward. "Caledon, you won’t get your money without a wife. You know that. You’ve just messed up your entire life because you let Rose DeWitt Bukater die on the Titanic."

He stood and left the room in a huff. He didn’t even care that I, his only son, had almost died. All he cared about was my having a family for the Hockley name to pass on through. Again there was this part of me that knew he was right.

The next day, I told him I would marry soon, just for the sake of the money. So, he set out to find my bride. A woman of good breeding, of course. Often our conversations went back to Rose.

In August of 1912, my new engagement was on course. I was to marry Erin Parker, daughter of Michael Parker, who was also on the Titanic. The one whose son Melissa had stolen from.

She was beautiful, everything a well-brought-up woman should be. She was everything Rose had been. She lacked one thing, and that was a love for me and not my money.

Our wedding wouldn’t be until the winter. I was thankful for that. I wasn’t prepared for this union as I was with Rose. Like I’ve said, I grew to love Rose, even if it was only for financial gain. I loved her just the same.

But Erin…Erin I did not love. Rose had had a certain attitude that I loved. Erin was missing it altogether. She did what she was told, when she was told. Rose had never listened to rules. At the time she had broken all the rules, I had thought it so incredibly rude. Now, I saw that it was what I missed the most about her.

Late one evening in August, I sat with my father again. He was ever so happy about the upcoming marriage, but he still longed for stories of the Titanic.

"So, how was it? I mean the grandeur, the splendor?" he asked. We sat at the dinner table, just us two. One of his personal maids brought in the crystal wine glasses and set them before us.

"It was marvelous, of course. The Ship of Dreams," I said, my mind trailing back to the ship that now rested at the bottom of the Atlantic.

"The service? How was that?" he asked.

"Wonderful." I smiled.

He nodded, smiling as well. He had wanted to take a voyage on her the next time she crossed the North Atlantic. Now he’d never have the chance. Of course, there would be other great ships. We both knew that.

"Where is the diamond?" He asked the question I knew was coming.

I sighed in defeat and finally answered him. "She had it when she died with the Titanic."

He stared at me sternly. "Well, have you filed the insurance claim yet?" he asked. I was surprised it had taken him four months to think of this.

"Yes, I did," I replied.

He nodded, then continued the conversation. "However did you manage to survive?" He asked the question I knew would come up. "You were in Collapsible A, am I correct? One of the last to leave?"

I nodded, trying to think of words to answer with. How could I tell him I had used a child to get aboard? Then I realized the man I was speaking to. So, I told him the truth.

"There was a child. A little third class girl," I started, neglecting to tell him about Melissa and her mother. "I grabbed her up, and they let me on. Women and children were the only ones allowed on. I figured it was my only way of surviving."

He sat back, then chuckled a bit. "That’s good." He laughed again.

"At least she was safe, too. I mean, it’s not like I did some cruel, dark deed," I spat back at him.

He nodded, though I could tell he wasn’t serious.

"Where did the little girl go? Where was her family?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to tell him anything more.

"Well, anyway, about this man that Rose fell in love with. What was his name?" he asked.

"Jack Dawson." I looked at him. I could speak this name without cringing now.

He laughed again. "So proper. I wonder if he was from the Boston Dawsons and was exiled?"

I looked at him. "No, he was from the Chippewa Falls Dawsons, actually." I started laughing again as I quoted Mr. Dawson himself. He had said that to J.J. Astor.

"What’s so funny?" he asked.

I waved a hand, trying to calm myself. "It’s nothing. It’s just that I’ve hated this man for no reason."

"No reason?" he demanded sternly. "That trash stole Rose from you."

"No. He stole my pride, not Rose!" I shouted back.

"How could she go to a common rat and give up the chance for unlimited money?" he asked disgustedly. "And don’t say love. Love has nothing to do with anything in our business, Caledon."

I sat back in my chair, not touching my dinner, not looking at him. I thought of Catherine. I still loved her, even after all these months of being away from her. I started laughing again.

"It has everything to do with it, Father. Love is a part of life. My life." I stood and started to leave.

"Where are you going?" He raced after me, following me to the porch.

"Something I should have done a long time ago!" I shouted back. "Tell the Parkers I’m calling the whole thing off!"

I could hear his gasp, his disappointment, but I ran anyway. I ran down the street, my dinner jacket sailing out behind me. I hailed a taxi when I reached the corner.

"Where to, sir?" he asked.

"To the train station, as quick as you can," I ordered.

He pulled out, driving fairly fast. "Wait! Stop at the jewelers on First, my good man," I said, smiling.

He nodded and turned down the street, heading for town.

"Say, aren’t you that Mr. Hockley fellow?" he asked, glancing at me in the backseat.

I nodded. "Why, yes, I am, sir."

"Hoo-wee, how’d you manage to get off that ship?"

I hated his improper use of language, but nothing could ruin my insanely delighted mood.

"Sheer luck," I said.

"A real man makes his own luck. That’s the way I see it." He laughed a bit.

My mind flashed back to the dining saloon. I had said that to Jack.

"Don’t believe that for a second, my friend. All life is a game of luck." I was shocked at my own words. How had I changed so much? Had anyone else noticed the changes in me?

We pulled up in front of the jeweler. I had bought Rose’s engagement ring here. Frank, the jeweler, came walking out into the display room. He was polishing a large green stone on an elegant necklace.

"Hello, Mr. Hockley. What can I do for you tonight?" he asked cheerfully, as though he could literally smell my money.

"I need a ring," I said, placing my hands on the glass countertop.

"Well, you’ve come to the right place." He chuckled. "What are you looking for?"

"Engagement," I said with a slight smile.

He lifted his eyebrows in an arch of confusion. "You already bought the engagement ring for Miss Parker."

"I know that. I’m not a fool. I need another one. My engagement to Miss Parker is off," I said, a bit irritated by his questioning me.

"I’m sorry," he said. He pulled out a case of beautiful rings. He displayed them before me.

I stared down at the dozens of jewels, all different shapes and sizes.

I spotted one with a blue stone as the centerpiece.

"What is this?" I asked, looking up at him.

"A rare type of diamond," he replied.

I stared down at it as my mind raced back to the night in Rose’s room when I had given her the Heart of the Ocean.

"I’ll take it," I said. I didn’t care about the price, of course. It was a breathtaking thing, really.

"What size will you be needing it in, Mr. Hockley?" he asked, taking the ring from the case.

I had no idea about ladies’ ring sizes, but I knew she must be about the same size as Rose had been.

"What size did Miss DeWitt Bukater wear?" I asked.

"Seven," he said.

I nodded. "All right. That should be fine."

He left the display room, disappearing into his stockroom. He reemerged carrying a black ring box in his hand. He set it on the counter in front of me.

"Seven thousand dollars, sir," he said, looking a bit shocked that I would buy yet another engagement ring after such a short period of time. Well, my fortunes were not nearly diminished. I paid him, then left. I got into the taxi. We went to the train station.

"Have a good trip, Mr. Hockley," the driver said.

I paid him over the actual amount, but I was sure he could use the extra money. I got on the first train to New York, thoroughly surprised to see Colonel Gracie in the first class section of the train, sipping brandy.

"Cal," he said, motioning to me.

I walked down the aisle and seated myself beside him.

"Archie," I said, smiling. "Good to see you again."

"How have you been, Cal?" he asked.

We hadn’t spoken since the Titanic’s demise, but I was grateful to have an old friend with me on the trip to New York.

"I’m great, and how are you, sir?" I asked.

"Magnificent. Heading into New York. A little vacation, you might say." He laughed a bit.

I nodded. "So am I."

I still couldn’t tell anyone about Catherine, simply because of her class. I secretly wondered what the last four months had been like for her, where she had been, what she had been doing.

"Refreshment, sir?" a porter asked. I picked up a glass of wine from the tray.

The colonel and I talked for hours, discussing the Titanic, the unwanted voyage on the Carpathia, Mr. Andrews, and Bruce Ismay. We discussed everything, even Rose, but she seemed to be everywhere I went.

"It was that Jack boy, eh?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Well, not to worry, son. He was a nice lad," he said. Of course, I knew he was right.

"Neither of them made it, though." I spoke sadly.

He nodded. "That seems to be the tone in many a family, especially Mrs. Astor’s."

I looked at him. "How is Madeline?"

"Fine, I should think," he replied.

"The baby?" I asked.

"Oh, little John Jacob. Oh, yes, perfectly fine, sir." He laughed.

I nodded, leaning back against the soft seat.

The colonel drank down his last bit of brandy as we pulled into the station.

"It was good to see you again, Cal." He held his hand out to me.

I shook his hand. "And you, Archie."

He left in the opposite direction that I did. I looked around at all the people, some in fine clothes, others in rags. Why was it that on the streets people didn’t pay much attention to class, but on that damned ship they had, which had probably ruined everything?

I walked into an alleyway which had several underclass people scattering about.

"Excuse me." I stopped a woman wearing lesser-value clothes and a scarf. "Do you know a Catherine de Louise?"

She shook her head. Her eyes trailed down my black dinner suit, then back up to my eyes. "Are you sure you’re in the right part of town, sonny?"

I made no reply. I just continued racing through the crowded alley, looking at each face.

I kept my hand inside my pocket, on the ring box the entire time, afraid lowlife pickpockets would rob me. It was one of those times I wished Lovejoy was still with me.

"Mr. Hockley?" I heard a questioning voice from behind me. I turned to face a woman seated on a crate, smoking a cigarette.

"Do I know you?" I asked, walking up to her.

"We met in the lifeboat," she said, trying to remind me of her identity. Then I placed her face. She was the woman who had offered to take Melissa. "What brings you to the slums?" she asked with a slight laugh.

I glared at her for a moment. How dare she judge me? If I want to walk on the back streets, that was my business, I thought to myself.

"I’m just messing with you, kid," she said. "But seriously, what brings you here?"

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how to. I wasn’t even sure why I was doing this, acting so unlike me.

"Is it Catherine and Melissa?" she asked suddenly, throwing her cigarette to the ground and stomping it out.

"Do you know where I can find them?" I asked.

"Well, I can give you one hint as to where one of ‘em is."

I waited for her to answer. Then she pointed behind me. I turned to see the little girl, Melissa.

"Mr. Hockley? Is that you?"

I knelt down, careful not to touch my pant leg to the ground.

"Melissa?" I asked. She raced over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I stood with Melissa in my arms. I turned back to the woman.

"Catherine is at her little dress shop. Melissa can show you. By the way, I’m Carol."

I nodded and thanked her. I released Melissa from my arms and she skipped through the people, leading me to my love, Catherine.

When we arrived at the store, I leaned down and spoke softly in Melissa’s ear. "Get your mother. Bring her out here. Tell her I’m a customer or something. Do not tell her it’s me. All right? Can you do that for me?"

She smiled and nodded. The little bell on the door rang as she yanked it open. I walked over to a bench, sitting with my back to the door. My heart raced as I heard her footsteps behind me. I knew she couldn’t deny me, but I still had a racing heart.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked. "If you step into the store, I can probably help you out with what you want to purchase."

I didn’t look up at her. She still stood behind me and hadn’t seen my face yet. I slowly pulled out the little ring box.

I held it out behind me until I felt her soft hands brush mine. She took the box and opened it.

She gasped. I turned to face her. She looked at me, then back at the rather large ring, her hand clasped to her mouth.

"Cal, I--" she started to speak.

I stood, facing her now. "Catherine, I never should have left you there on the Carpathia. I was just so distraught about Rose and my pride, my stature in life. I neglected my true feelings, but I’ve had four months to think about them. I love you." I took a deep breath. "Will you marry me?"

She gasped again. Melissa stood in the doorway of the shop, staring almost in amazement.

She opened her mouth to answer. I held a finger to her lips. "Listen, I love you. I know you feel the same way, but there are certain things I have to ask of you."

"Anything," she said, still staring down at the jewel.

I nodded. "Let’s go inside."

I followed her into the shop. She turned the little closed sign over so no one would come in. Melissa sat on a small sofa, playing with a rag doll.

"This isn’t going to be easy for you, I know," I started. "But you have to let me shower you in finery. You have to become a part of my world."

She looked a bit shocked. Then her eyes settled on the playing Melissa. She looked back at me.

"Melissa, too. I’ve got everything figured out. Leave the minor details to me," I said, pleading with my eyes. "Please, Catherine. I want to be married to you, to be with you for the rest of my life. If you do not, I’ll be forced into a marriage that is doomed. I want to be happy. I know you do, too. I can give us that happiness, Catherine."

She looked back down at the ring. When she looked at me, tears flooded her eyes.

"Will you?" I asked.

After several agonizing moments, she nodded her head, smiling. I took the ring from the velvet case and placed it on her finger. I kissed her deeply on the lips, the first kiss we had shared since that fateful night on the Titanic.

Melissa raced over to us. I picked her up and we shared the first family hug.

"All right. Now, go put on something you would be selling. Something fine," I said. "You and Melissa."

"But we can’t. These dresses are made to sell," Catherine said.

I placed my hands on her shoulders. "Catherine, you have to leave the shop. You can’t work here."

She looked deeply saddened, but went along with me.

"I’ll go send a telegram to my father telling him. Remember, you’re Catherine de Louise of France. Your late husband was a wealthy mine owner. He was killed in a mine. All right?" I waited for her to answer. "Do you understand?" I asked.

Finally, she nodded.

"And don’t speak of the Titanic to them. To me, it’s fine. I have a lot of questions, anyway, but never mention it to your new friends."

I knew all of what I was saying to her was overwhelming, but there was no doubt in my mind that she would grow to be happy with her new life.

I left them to go to the telegraph office to get the word out to my father, who was surely distraught about my leaving so abruptly.

After I got the message sent to my father, I immediately went back to the dress shop, stopping only long enough to buy a finely sewn doll for the child. When I arrived back at the shop, Melissa came running from the back.

"Slow down." I laughed. I knelt down to her.

"Look! I’m dressed as nice as you." She giggled. "I never thought Mama would let me wear these clothes." She was obviously happy.

I smiled. "Listen. You can’t come bounding out of places. All right? You have to act like a young lady. Do you know how to do that?"

She looked a bit saddened, but then the sparkle in her eyes returned. "Yes. I saw the first class children on the Titanic, sir," she answered with her new attitude. I smiled and wrapped my arms around her, thankful she was adapting quickly.

Catherine cleared her throat politely. I looked up, and stood as if in a trance. She was absolutely stunning, her hair neatly pulled back. Long white gloves, sequined blue taffeta gown, matching shoes. I slowly walked over to her. She held her hand out. I leaned down to kiss her knuckles.

"Well, how do I look, Mr. Hockley?" she asked with the same attitude that Melissa had just displayed.

"Perfect." I smiled. I crooked my elbow and waited for her to loop her arm through mine. "Come along, Melissa," I said, heading for the door.

Catherine stopped. "Where are we going? What about our stuff?"

"Pittsburgh. And I’ll buy you new stuff." I laughed.

Catherine laughed, as well. Melissa held onto her rag doll. I bent down and pulled the finely sewn doll from my suit pocket.

"For you," I said softly.

Her smile could never be surpassed. She left the rag doll lying on the sofa as she hugged the new doll close to her chest.

We walked out of that little dress shop, closing the doors for the last time.

We walked through the crowded streets of New York arm-in-arm, heading for the train station.

"Cal!" I heard a familiar voice. Colonel Archibald Gracie speed-walked up to us. I had hoped they wouldn’t have to meet any of my people just yet.

"It’s the colonel," I whispered to Catherine. She nodded.

"Hello. Leaving New York so soon, eh?" he asked.

"Yes. Well, my father is a demanding man. I must get back to him," I said. "But may I present Catherine de Louise and her daughter, Melissa de Louise, of France." I motioned to the ladies at my side.

"Oh, lovely." The colonel took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. De Louise."

Melissa stared up at him. I gave her a pleading look to go along with us. She quickly corrected her posture.

"And young Melissa. It is a pleasure," Gracie said, looking down at the child.

"Catherine is my fiancée, widow of the late Richard de Louise. You know, of Paris. The mine owner," I lied.

He nodded. "Of course."

Naturally, he went along with me. Even though he had never heard of the family, he didn’t want to seem as though he was out of the swing of things.

"Well, Archie, it’s been a pleasure, but we have a train to catch."

"Of course, Cal. See you later," he said with a slight bow. He walked in the other direction.

Catherine turned to see if he was gone. Then she leaned in close to me. "Did we do okay?" she asked with concern in her eyes.

"You did amazing, but remember, don’t look concerned. Relax. Feel confident. Everything will be fine," I instructed. Melissa listened as she followed, holding her mother’s free hand.

"It’s all so difficult, Cal," she spoke softly.

"I know." I laughed a little. "You’ll get used to it."

Chapter Eleven
Stories