MAGIC MORNING
Chapter Eleven

The ground rocked gently beneath Rose's feet and she started moving from side to side, trying to stay warm. She was sitting at the bottom of the stairs that separated the first class survivors from the third and her face was pale, her eyes clouded with tears.

Had he survived? Would he walk up to her now and tell her that it was all right? That he had forgiven her for acting like an idiot, for pushing him away? Rose buried her face in her hands and rocked back and forth, hardly even noticing the people who were walking past her. All she cared about, all that mattered was that Jack survived.

She had been waiting for almost an hour now, sitting as close as she could to the man with the list of survivors. The thought that there could be more lists never crossed her mind and she clenched her fists tightly.

"This was the last boat, sir," she heard a voice saying and she looked up, her eyes wide with fear. Was he here now? Or was he…she swallowed and felt tears fill her eyes. He couldn't be.

"Excuse me, sir," she said after waiting for the list to be completed. As soon as she had managed to get up, she walked over to the steward, holding onto the handrail for support. The steward looked at her and she tried to make her voice steady. "Is…Jack Dawson on that list?" she finally asked hopefully, looking at him, her eyes brimming with anxiety.

She watched him as he started looking through the list. He almost hid behind the papers and she breathed hard, seeing him turn page after page and not look up once. The blood pounded in her head and she found herself shaking and every muscle in her body seemed to be tense.

"I'm sorry, miss. He's not here. I'm terribly sorry." The man looked at her now, guilt seemed to be shining from his green-brown eyes and she heard herself screaming.

"No," she whispered softly when the scream had died and she just lost her balance, sinking down on the floor. "No," she repeated. "No…he said he'd make it. He told me…no…he can't be dead. Oh help me, someone, someone…he's dead…" she whispered and her head fell. She felt someone lifting her up, carrying her somewhere and she fidgeted, trying to make whoever it was let go. "No, let me go, let me go…" she protested, but the next second she found herself lying on a cot on deck.

"You need some rest, miss. Do you have any other relatives that might be alive?"

Rose looked at the owner of the soft voice and for a second she thought she was dreaming. Jack's face had flashed by, but soon, it vanished and she saw that it was the steward who had told her Jack was dead. "No! Let me go, I have to…I have to…look for him, you're wrong, he can't be dead," she whispered, but the man held her there firmly.

"What's your name, miss?" he asked gently.

"Rose…Rose DeWitt…" she stopped and looked up at the blue sky. She couldn't tell him her real name. She didn't want Cal to find her. She would be too tired to fight him now and she couldn't let him drag her back. She refused to let him hurt her again. "Rose…Dawson," she said instead after a few moments of hesitation, but the steward's face showed her that he had heard the first name.

He looked down at the list, and then up at her again. "Is Ruth DeWitt Bukater a relative?" he asked seriously and she just nodded, too tired to protest.

"But…don't get her, please don't. I don't want to see him. I don't…"

Before she had a chance to finish the sentence, the events of the past few days and the horrors of the night, the pain at the news of Jack's death, caught up with her and she closed her eyes, falling into a dark slumber. The steward looked at her, worried and wondering what to do. Should he go and try to find the other woman for her? Who was the man she didn't want to see? He sighed and got up, deciding that it was for the best if he tried to find Ruth DeWitt Bukater. Someone had to be there for this woman. It only took him half an hour to find Ruth. She had been standing at the rail in the first class section, looking at the blue ocean. At the question if she was Ruth DeWitt Bukater, she had gasped and looked at him in shock.

"No one could have asked for me. My daughter…and her fiancé have died and…I had no one else." She turned away from him and stared at the dark ocean again, her eyes filling with tears.

"I…think I've found your daughter. She's in third class, asleep and…she is quite distraught about her fiancé’s death," the steward explained quickly.

The woman turned again and stared at him through her tears. "Rose? My Rose? Alive? Take me to her," she said the next second, sounding superior suddenly and immediately started complaining about Rose being put in third class.

The steward slowly began to wonder if Rose had been right. He should never have tried to find Ruth.

"Oh my God, Rose," Ruth cried when she laid eyes on her daughter, sleeping peacefully as it seemed. She sank down next to her and held her hand, kissing it gently. "Caledon is dead, Rose, but you must already know that. He…must have died like a gentleman, the gentleman he was."

Rose stirred and then her eyes opened and she looked at her mother. "Mother," she breathed, not able to say anything more. "I…don't…don't make me see Cal. I can't…I can't…I don't ever want to see him again," she whispered and sat up abruptly, as if trying to make it easier to run away.

"Oh darling, Cal is dead. I thought you knew. The steward told me that you knew."

Rose looked at her mother's face. It was pale, but her eyes were red and tears were running down her cheeks. All that for Cal? She felt disgusted, but neither that, nor her confused state of mind made her stop thinking. It was so clear to her…the steward had assumed that Jack Dawson was the dead fiancé and her mother…her mother had thought that both Cal and Rose were dead. Jack, she hadn't even cared about Jack.

"Why did you have to go back, Rose? If you hadn't, maybe Cal would be alive now and…we'd be safe."

Ruth's voice didn't even reach Rose…she just talked and talked, but Rose didn't hear her. "Mother, mother, be quiet and listen to me. Listen to me!" She shook her mother harshly, trying to make her snap out of the almost panic-stricken trance. "Listen to me! You're going to go to Molly Brown and ask her if you can stay with her for a while. Molly's great, I'm sure she'll say yes. I…I'm going on my own now. To…freedom," she finished quietly, whispering almost.

Ruth stared at her. "Jack got this in your head didn't he? I saw the way he was looking at you…you cannot be serious, Rose. We have to go back to Philadelphia and try, somehow to survive together."

"No," Rose said firmly and stood up. "I am going now. I want to be free. I have to, mother. I just have to. You can't possibly talk me out of it."

"That Jack Dawson," her mother cursed.

Rose had to squeeze the blanket in her hands so that she wouldn't hit Ruth. "He has got nothing to do with this. He's…dead anyway," she said quietly, tears falling down her cheeks even though she tried to stop them. "He's dead, mother! Dead!" she shouted and then…it finally dawned upon her, for the first time. She would never see his smile again, never hear his voice. Never. She sank down again and rocked back and forth, back and forth. She felt her mother hold her tightly, crying too.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so sorry…"

"Cal hurt me, mother. He hurt me so bad…I can't…he was a horrible person, mother. I wouldn't marry him even if he were alive. I couldn't…"

Everything rushed out now…the money problems, Cal, Jack, the violence, everything…Ruth finally understood. She understood that Cal had been violent, that he hadn't been what Rose needed, that Jack had been that person. She realized that she had to let her daughter go. Let her try to make it on her own. It hurt and it felt like she was doing the wrong thing, but it had to be like that. It had to.

*****

A few days later, they had just arrived in New York, surrounded by cameras and reporters and tragedy.

"Rose, you have to write to me, promise me?"

Rose just nodded and hugged her mother one last time, watched her as she stepped into the carriage with Molly.

"Take care, darling," Molly said and then they were gone.

Rose was alone, alone in the darkness and rain, without Jack, without Cal, with no money. The disaster seemed to have made everyone poor. Rose stared at The Statue of Liberty in the distance, her eyes shining with the same fire that Jack had seen in her. She would be all right now. With or without him.

*****

The water was so cold, so cold and he couldn't get away, he was trapped…trapped…he screamed at the top of his lungs, louder and louder, until his voice formed a name. Her name. Rose…

"He's awake now, doctor," he heard a voice saying and he tried to open his eyes.

"Rose," he whispered. "Uncle Jacob?" was the next thing that came into mind and he tried again to open his eyes.

"Well, good afternoon, sir," a woman's voice said and he stared at the face. She was about thirty-five years old, her cheeks were round and her eyes were sparkling.

"Where am I? What day is it?" Jack asked and made a desperate attempt to sit up.

"It's April 20th…1912 and you're at the hospital. Take it easy now, sir."

April 20th? What had happened? The sinking…Rose…what had happened to him? The last thing he remembered was falling down from the stern into the dark water and now he was in a hospital. Who or what had saved him?

A young man from Italy, called Fabrizio De Rossi had been the savior. He had been swimming as fast as he could, trying to reach one of the lifeboats when a splash right next to him had made him think about something other than the cold. A body was sinking quickly next to him and Fabrizio only had to think about it for a second, and then he dove down into the water. He pulled up an unconscious body of a young man, wearing first class clothes and no lifebelt. In a strange way, it felt like he already knew him. Maybe they had known each other in another lifetime, in another world, but he felt like he had to save him. He had to. Pulling the other man along through the icy water, he finally reached a board of some sort, not too far away from the boats. He used all the strength he had to pull the man on top of the board and then swam along, reaching the boats with the board. By then he was blue in the face and he was having trouble breathing. But, they were in luck…the officer onboard wasn't as reluctant as the officer onboard Rose's lifeboat had been to helping the people in the water. It didn't take long until they were in the boat, wrapped in warm blankets…and just waiting to be rescued.

On Carpathia, Fabrizio had made sure that the man he had rescued was taken care of and he even went to visit him in the hospital a few times. But, no one knew his name. April 20th, Jack finally opened his eyes and they could write down who he was. Jack Dawson, age twenty, traveling with his Uncle Jacob and his valet Frank.

"I'm afraid they're both dead," the nurse told him gently and Jack just closed his eyes.

"Do…you have a list of the survivors here? I need to see…I need to make sure that she's on it. I…please…"

The nurse just nodded and a few hours later, the list was in Jack's hands. She wasn't there. He closed his eyes and wanted to scream, cry, fall apart at the thought that she hadn't made it. How could she be dead? She had been in a lifeboat…a lifeboat for goodness sake!

"Can I look again?" he demanded and the doctor nodded, giving it back to him. "Rose…D…Dawson?" Jack looked up in surprise. "Rose Dawson? Could that be her?" he asked himself, closing his eyes in confusion. Why would she take his name? To get away from Cal, the voice inside him told him and he smiled. Of course…it had to be her. But she must think that he was dead…he swallowed and took another deep breath. "I have to find her," he whispered. "When do I get out of here?" he asked the doctor quickly.

He learned that it could be a week, or two. With that in mind, he groaned, both from the pain in his head, in his whole body actually, and leaned back. It could be months before he found her. She could marry Cal in the meantime…but then he remembered and smiled. No, she wouldn't, because Cal wouldn't find her. Where would she go? Santa Monica?

"Mr. Dawson, would you like to see the young man who saved you?" Jack nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed, but very happy at the same time. "Sure, show him in."

Fabrizio appeared in the doorway, smiling at Jack. "Buon giorno," he said softly and walked over to the bed. "I see you feel better now. Good. Good."

"I heard you're the one who saved my life. I don't know how to thank you. It's…too much."

Fabrizio just smiled. "I was happy to." He paused, looking at the list next to Jack's bed. "You know someone?" he asked and Jack nodded.

"My…girlfriend," he said after a while and Fabrizio smiled even more. "Nice. My…how do you say, fiancée?" Jack grinned and nodded. "She…was on ship too and would have not been here if someone hadn't saved her. Someone pulled her over the rail, to the safe side. I want to thank him, but she say he fall and die."

Jack stared at him. It must have been the young woman he had saved. He smiled at the young Italian and suddenly knew, just knew that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Chapter Twelve
Stories