REUNION AND CONFRONTATION, 1925
Chapter Five
Rose reached the landing. She looked
longingly at the door to the Powder Room. It would only take a second to splash
some cool water on her face and neck. It was warm for June and she felt she
needed something to revive her after sitting in the stuffy dining room.
A few moments later, she walked back out into
the landing, lost in her thoughts about how wonderful it was that Jack and
Fabrizio had found each other. Suddenly her path was blocked by a massive
figure in black. Rose gasped.
"So you survived," drawled Cal.
Cal gave her a dark look. Rose could see that
not only was Cal angry, but he was also drunk. Leave it to Cal to keep himself
supplied with whiskey even during Prohibition. She knew he used to enjoy his
brandies, but she had never seen him in quite a state like this.
"Cal, please forget that you saw
me," she said.
Cal sneered at her and then spoke.
"Forget about you? Hardly likely, my
dear. You've caused me way too much trouble to forget about you. When we
decided that you must be dead, my father insisted that I marry and he found
some simpering frigid idiot that can't have children to carry my name."
"That's just as well, Cal, because you
aren't fit to be a father."
Her comment drove him into a rage. His hand
came from nowhere and he slapped her in the face. When her own hand came up
automatically to protect herself, he saw her plain gold wedding band. He grabbed
her wrist.
"So, I see that you got some fool to
marry you. You, the leavings of that gutter rat."
Rose did not respond. She still hoped she
could reason with Cal and get away from him. He was blocking her way and her
jaw hurt from his blow. She could hardly speak. But one thing was for sure. She
was not going to rile him any further by telling him that Jack was her husband.
As she tried to move away from him, he lunged
at her. He grabbed her wrists and with his body pushed her against the wall.
Her face was wedged between his body and the wall.
"You owe me, Rose. You owe me for
humiliating me on Titanic when you and that Dawson had your little fling. What
happened to him anyway?" he demanded.
Rose struggled against him, but she would not
answer that question.
Instead she pleaded, "Please Cal, let me
go."
But she could not move. The dead weight of
his drunken body made it impossible for her to do anything. From downstairs,
she could hear the musicians Fabrizio hired, tuning up their instruments. This
evening, which was to have been so special, had turned into her worst
nightmare. Even if she screamed now, Jack would not hear her. There was a small
table next to her. Maybe when the music stopped, she could try and knock it
over and attract some attention. She would have to stall and endure Cal until
then.
"Tonight you are not getting away. I
want the necklace Rose. Where is it?"
"I don't know. I never saw it.
Everything from the ship was taken away in the hospital."
His hand came up to hit her again. She turned
her face to the wall in an effort to stop his blow.
"Please Cal, stop," she begged.
"That's all that ever mattered to you, your material goods. I was just
another trophy."
Cal had no more patience to listen to her.
"Well, tonight I am getting what I
deserve. I suppose having you will make up for the necklace."
His mouth clamped down on hers and his left
hand started moving across her neck and into her dress.
* * * * * * * * * *
Jack watched the stairs, waiting for Rose to
return. She had been gone quite a while and he could not understand where she
was. He was about to go looking for her. He was only half aware of the
conversation he was having with Nora and Fabrizio. The music stopped and in the
distance there was a soft thump and the sound of breaking glass.
Instantly alert, Jack said, "What was
that?"
"Oh, probably something in the
kitchen," answered Fabrizio.
But an alarm bell went off in Jack's head.
Rose, he thought. She should have been back by now.
Jack tore up the stairs two at a time. He
lost all reason when he reached the landing and saw the scene in front of him.
Rose and a large man dressed in black were struggling. Without seeing the face,
Jack knew who her attacker was. He flew across the room and pulled Cal off of
her. He spun him around and punched him squarely in the jaw. Cal went
sprawling, not knowing what hit him. He hit his head on one of the chairs and
was temporarily stunned.
Jack yelled for Fabrizio, then took Rose in
his arms and tried to comfort her.
"Are you all right?" he asked, as
he touched her hair and back gently.
She nodded. As Jack rocked her in his arms
and talked softly to her, the realization of what had happened began to sink in
and she began to cry.
"Shh, Rose. He'll never bother you
again. This time, I'll make sure."
Fabrizio and Nora came up the stairs. Nora
led her friend to a chair and put her arms protectively around Rose.
"What do you want me to do, Jack?"
ask Fabrizio.
"Just stay right there, and be a witness
to all this. Don't let him get past the stairs," Jack instructed.
Cal began to stir. Jack pulled him up by the
lapels of his suit and threw him against the wall. Cal now realized who had hit
him.
Having no remorse whatsoever, he smirked at
Jack.
"So, she married the gutter rat after
all."
Jack was not willing to take anymore comments
from Cal. With this remark, he shoved him against the wall again. Jack, the old
scrappy Jack, who had once survived on the streets of the world, gave Hockley
an ultimatum.
"Cal, tonight, we are playing by my
rules."
Cal was still somewhat intoxicated. But he
was coherent enough to argue with Jack.
"And just might those rules be,
Dawson?" he mocked. "What kind of rules do you know about? You don't
know the rules about being a gentleman."
Jack gave him a disgusted look.
"Cal, the gentlemen I know, don't go
around accosting other men's wives. You have a choice, Cal. You do what I say,
or you will leave here with the police, with reporters following you. I WILL
press charges for the assault of my wife. Do you hear me, Cal?"
Cal grew limp. He knew that Jack was stronger
and more agile that he was. He saw Fabrizio standing nearby. For once, he was
cornered and by Dawson of all people.
"First, Cal, you will apologize to my
wife."
Cal looked at Rose, but the words did not
come. He was not sorry. He could have had Rose, but he had not been able to
prevent her from knocking the table over. Jack tightened his grip on Cal's
suit.
Jack was getting impatient. "I'm
waiting, Cal."
Cal narrowed his eyes.
"Alright, I made a mistake. I apologize,
Rose," said Cal, sounding insincere.
Rose kept her head down. She would not look
at Cal. She was only thinking how grateful she was that she had escaped marriage
to this monster.
"Cal, if you ever look at her again, you
are a dead man. Have I made myself clear Hockley?" asked Jack.
Cal nodded. He had greatly underestimated
Jack Dawson. He had certainly come a long way from the shaggy steerage
passenger he remembered from Titanic.
"Now, one more thing, Cal. You will also
apologize to me, for framing me with the necklace and leaving me to die."
Cal looked at Jack again. He could not, would
not, stoop so low as to apologize to Jack Dawson. Jack was staring at him,
waiting for an answer. Cal could feel Jack's hands clutching his suit. He had
nowhere to go. He had two choices, be sorry or be humiliated in the newspapers.
"Alright, Dawson. I know when I am
beaten. I apologize."
There were footsteps coming up the stairway
and several well dressed gentlemen came forward.
One of them, an older man, asked, "Cal,
where have you been? Are you alright?"
Cal looked at Jack and said nothing. Instead,
Jack answered.
"I think Cal had a little too much
bootleg. He fell against some furniture. He's thinking a little more
clearly."
Cal watched Jack carefully. He reluctantly
had to admit, that while Jack might not be a member the upper class, he was
enough of a gentleman not to say what had really happened just now. Jack
lightly punched Cal in the shoulder, in what the others thought was a good
natured move.
"Remember what I said, Cal," Jack
reminded him.
Cal looked into Jack's eyes, knowing what he
meant. He nodded his head.
"Come on, Cal. Let's take you
downstairs, where it's cooler," said one of his friends.
Cal allowed himself to be led from the room.
As he approached the stairs, he was about to turn his head and look at Rose
once more. Then he remembered Jack's admonition never to set eyes on her again.
As if to himself, he nodded and walked down the stairs.
Jack watched as Cal and his party went back
to their room. When he was younger he had always wanted to get even with Cal,
to hurt him physically, for the way he had treated Rose. He was sorry now that
he had stooped to Cal's level of violence. But he'd had to protect Rose. Now he
couldn't summon up any hatred for Cal. Just pity. Pity for that spoiled,
arrogant excuse of a human being. He was certain that they had seen the last of
Hockley.
Rose was being fussed over by Nora and
Fabrizio.
"I am so sorry this happened here,"
said Fabrizio.
Rose put her hand out to him. "Oh,
Fabrizio, it's not your fault," said Rose. "I think I am better now.
I want to stay and finish the evening."
"Are you sure?" asked Nora.
Rose nodded. "Yes," she said with
some of her old fire coming back. "I don't want to give Cal the
satisfaction of seeing me leave."
Jack came over and he too asked her if she
really wanted to stay. Rose put her hands up in front of her.
"I'll be fine, really I will," she
insisted. "Please, let's go and enjoy the rest of the evening."
A few hours later, Fabrizio and Nora saw
their friends off in a taxi. The evening had been a success, despite the
distraction of the scene with Cal. Rose and Jack's children were sleepy and
stuffed with food. They had not heard the commotion in the hall upstairs. They
had had so much fun, that they didn't even notice their mother was quieter than
usual. All the way home they talked about the antics of the baby, Sean and how
much fun it would be to have one of their own. Over their heads, Jack and Rose
looked at each other and smiled.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Much later
The children were tucked in bed in the other
room and Rose was asleep across the room from him. The bedroom was dark and
Jack paced the room. It was quiet except for the sound of the traffic down
below and the occasional toot of a tugboat on the river. He was still angered
by the episode with Cal.
For thirteen years, it seemed that everywhere
they turned, something to do with Titanic had crossed their paths. First, it
had been Rose's recovery, the stories from the inquiries and the bodies that
had been found. Over the years, there were reports that someone who had been
aboard had died or committed suicide. People even made sick jokes, when ideas
of plans did not work out, saying that it had sunk like the Titanic.
Jack looked at Rose in the dim light. It was
time to lay Titanic to rest once and for all. He had Rose, their children and
his friend Fabrizio. And now he had set things straight with Hockley.
"I can't let this eat away at me
anymore," he thought.
Jack looked at his old leather art folder
that was laying on the dresser, the same one that Molly had bought for him in
1912. He glanced at the sleeping form of Rose and an idea came to his mind.
He turned on the little light next to the
chair and sat down. He glanced up as Rose stirred, but she did not wake up. He
sharpened his pencils and began to draw. It was a drawing that he had wanted to
do to thirteen years. But he had never been ready until now.
As he sketched, the form of a woman appeared
on the paper. It was Rose, Rose in the pose in which he had drawn her that
night on Titanic. That first drawing of her that was now on the bottom of the
Atlantic. There was one difference, however. Instead of the Heart of the Ocean
around her neck, she wore his pearls. He dated it and put it on the nightstand
where she would see it when she awoke. Maybe now, they would be free of
Titanic.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Epilogue
"Good bye, Jack, Rose, bye kids."
Fabrizio and Nora were walking quickly next to the heavy green Pullman car as
the Twentieth Century Limited pulled out of the station. Jack and Rose and
their children stood crowded together in the vestibule window, waving. Finally
the train picked up speed and Nora and Fabrizio had reached the end of the
platform. The Dawsons gave one last wave and then they went inside the car to
get settled for their trip to Chicago.
Jack turned to Rose, as he helped her find
the bags that they would need for the first leg of the trip back to Denver.
"This really was some week, wasn't
it?" Jack asked. "I am so glad we came. Finding Fabrizio gave me so
much happiness. And even though they live far away, just to know he is alive,
is something that makes everything complete."
"Yes," agreed Rose. "It was
wonderful, and I am so happy things worked out for him. Maybe they will come
and visit us sometime."
"Rose," began Jack, "I am
sorry about that little scene with Hockley. I could have done without
that."
"Well, darling," said Rose, "I
do have one little regret."
Jack looked up not knowing what Rose meant.
Surely she could not possibly mean that she was sorry that she had not married
Cal.
"What's that?" asked Jack.
"Well, you hurried him out of there so
fast, that I couldn't give him another demonstration of how well I can spit
like a man."
Rose giggled with a mischievous look on her
face. Jack joined in her laughter. He was glad that she had recovered from the
nasty incident. That was what he loved about Rose. A proper lady, a naughty
schoolgirl, always reliable, totally unpredictable.
They had come back from the dining car after
dinner. Amidst the struggle of the berths being made up and moving the
suitcases around, the children managed to get ready for bed. Now Rose was
reading in the lower berth waiting for Jack to come back from the restroom at
the end of the car. She could hear him whispering to the children, seeing that
they were settled down for the night. At last, the heavy brown curtain parted
and he climbed in.
"Turn out the light, Rose."
Rose reached up and turned off the little
reading lamp.
"Now open the shade, Rose," Jack
told her.
She looked at him with a mildly shocked
expression.
"Jack, are you mad? We can't ride around
in our nightclothes with the shade open."
"Come on, Rose, open it," he urged.
"Open it. If you don't, I will."
"Jack, no."
He reached over and lifted the shade. Rose
gasped, speechless at the site that awaited her. There, on the horizon was the
moon, a primal looking golden orb, rising in the sky.
"Oh, Jack," she sighed, "I've
never seen anything like it."
"Yes," responded Jack, looking at
her, not the moon. "Now don't tell me it's not proper. The man in the moon
won't give away any of our secrets."
"It's beautiful, Jack," she
whispered. "I guess that what makes our life so special. You are always
finding things like this to show me."
Jack looked down at her for a moment. Then he
said, "You know, I think you and I have a request to fulfill."
She looked puzzled.
"What? What are you talking about?"
she wondered.
"Our children have put in a request for
a baby, Rose. Don't you remember?" he asked.
"Jack, are you serious?" Rose
questioned.
"Why not?" he replied.
"No, Jack, not here."
"Why not?" he said, pressing for
her to agree.
He studied her and traced her face with his
finger.
"Mrs. Dawson, I've learned a few things
over the years."
"Really," she said, tilting her
head and giving him a smile. "And just what have you learned?"
He chuckled and said, "When you say 'No,
Jack, no,' you really mean yes."
She touched his face and looked into his
eyes.
"Well, I've learned a few things too,
Jack. When you look at me like that, you can have whatever you want."
* * * * * * * * * *
Patrick Thomas Dawson was born on March 17,
1926.
The End.