CAL’S PLAN
Chapter Seven
When the Carpathia docked in New
York, hundreds of people went to the pier to receive the Titanic’s survivors.
Jack was one of the last people
to leave the ship. He didn’t want to talk about the Titanic to anyone. Three
days ago, when he had been with Rose, he had thought that winning that ticket
was the best that had ever happened to him. Now, he wished he hadn’t won that
poker game. Not only had it taken him to the greatest heartbreak that anyone
could have imagined, but it had also killed his best friend, Fabrizio. He swore
that if he ever went back to Europe, he would apologize to his friend’s mother.
But he wasn’t going to Europe. At least, not for the time being. He would stay
in New York for a couple of days, and then head out for the horizon to wherever
he liked.
Rose would have loved that, he thought, but then he took it back. No,
she wouldn’t. She will marry Cal because she wants to. She had the chance to
leave him, but she stayed beside him. Stop thinking about her.
He realized that he didn’t have a
place to stay for the night, and he couldn’t afford it, either. Yes, he had Rose’s
money, but he didn’t want to use it. He remembered that there was a homeless
shelter nearby, and he decided to go there, but before that, he looked one last
time at where the Carpathia was. In that moment, he saw her. Cal was talking to
the reporters, and she was standing beside him, just looking around. Their eyes
met. Her eyes trapped him. He couldn’t move, but then he thought, She
doesn’t love you. You’re hurting yourself. Move. Slowly, he turned around.
In his mind, he heard her screaming, No! but he didn’t look back.
Meanwhile, Caledon Hockley was
being harassed by reporters.
"Oh, yes. I’m very angry
with the White Star Line. They will soon be hearing from my lawyers. I’m also
planning to write a very strong letter to them."
Jack wanted to write a very
strong letter to them, Rose
thought. He had told her that when they had heard Mr. Andrews saying that the
ship was sinking. Jack. Jack. Jack. Why couldn’t she let go of him? She even
thought she saw him in the crowd.
That can’t be him, she thought. He’s dead. Dead. But
why was he staring at her? Why didn’t he come any closer? Why was it so real?
Slowly, he turned around.
"No," she whispered. "No, please, no. Come back!" she
shouted, but he didn’t turn back.
"What is it, sweetpea?"
Cal asked.
"Rose, are you all
right?" She heard her mother, but she couldn’t answer, because everything
went black before she could open her mouth.