THE SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Ten

Anastasia was the first one up the following morning. She sat up, her long hair partially in her face as she watched the bright sunlight stream through the tiny porthole window. She grinned to herself and began the process of yawning and stretching and then climbing down the ladder steps. She would miss these soft mattresses when she returned to the palace, that was for sure. She tiptoed over to the window and peered out, watching as the ocean lapped up against the side of the ship. She could hear Jack’s gentle snores and turned to him, fighting back giggles as she saw that only the tip of his head was peeking out from the blankets. Mac was still sound asleep as well, but only half of her was covered, and one arm was stretching out over the edge of the bed.

Fabrizio was asleep in the bunk above Jack’s, and the only way she could tell he was still alive was the faint up and down movement of his chest. Anastasia pondered waking Jack up first, but then she decided it would be more fun to wake her friend. She tiptoed over to Mac’s bed and poked her in the side. Mac’s eyes snapped open and she glanced upwards, glaring a bit at Anastasia. "Hey!" she cried. "What was that for?" She bundled deeper beneath her covers.

"It’s nine o’clock and time to get up." Anastasia explained, finally running her slender fingers through her thick, golden blonde hair. Mac sat up, blinking until her vision cleared.

"Is anyone else up yet?" she grumbled.

"No. Just you and me."

"Okay." Mac fell right back into bed and pulled her blankets over her head. Anastasia rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come on. Stop being so lazy." Anastasia climbed up onto the bed and started to tickle Mac, releasing a few shrieks of surprise that did wake everyone else in the cabin. Jack and Fabrizio were both sitting up and staring over at the other set of bunks, startled.

"Girls!" Jack called, and both Mac and Anastasia ceased their play at once and turned to face them.

"Sorry," Mac apologized, struggling to sit up again, still laughing a bit.

"So, I guess we’re all awake now, then?" Anastasia asked, hopping off of the bed and to the floor again. Jack cleared his throat.

"Yeah. I believe so."

"Papa, what did you want to tell us?" Mac asked, climbing out of bed and going over to her father’s, climbing up onto his lap and planting a kiss on his cheek as she did every morning.

He gave her a confused look. "What?"

"Tell us what?" Anastasia added curiously.

"You said you had an interesting story to tell us today," Mac encouraged. She could tell he was still half-asleep by the way he was acting.

"Oh! Oh, that." Jack rubbed his hands over his face. "I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m not quite awake yet," he admitted.

Mac grinned. "That’s okay. But tell us now," she urged, and Fabrizio had now descended the steps to the ground in his nightclothes.

"All right. Anastasia, care to join us up here as well?" Jack asked, patting the extra space on the bed. She accepted the offer, and the two girls were leaning against the backboard, their legs stretched out. Even Fabrizio sat down on Mac’s bed so he could listen as well, much to the girl’s amusement. He and Jack were becoming fast friends. Jack was not quite sure where to begin, so he decided to start from the beginning.

"Well, as you both know, I had gone out to just get some fresh air, and I decided to lay down on one of the benches close to the stern of the ship. I was barely on one for five minutes when I heard a pair of feet running along the deck, and this figure rushed past." He raised his eyes, because even he was startled by what had happened, and wondered if it had only been a dream. "So, I decided to go and see if I could find out who the person was and if I could help." He told the girls that it had been the girl he’d fallen for who was on the upper deck the day before, and that she was preparing to throw herself off of the ship.

"Why on Earth would she want to do such a thing?" Anastasia asked.

"I never found out," Jack replied. "But I did manage to convince her to come back over, thank God. But she slipped on her way back up the rail and I barely pulled her back up." He told them how he had been falsely accused of assault and had been handcuffed. By the time he finished the story, Mac and Anastasia’s mouths were hanging open and their eyes were wide as saucers.

"So, wait just a minute," Mac began slowly. "You said she rescued you and her fiancé, as a reward, invited you and us to join them for dinner in first class tonight?"

Jack nodded. "That’s right. I know that it is short notice for you two, but…"

"We’ll go, Papa," Mac agreed. "We wouldn’t let you down like that. But what are you going to wear? You didn’t bring any of your clothes from the—ow!" Mac cried out as Anastasia pinched her side. Jack turned to Fabrizio, who had his head cocked to one side.

"From the what?" he asked.

"Nothing," Anastasia promised. "It’s nothing." She glared at Mac, who stuck her tongue out.

"I’m sure we’ll figure something out, Mac," Jack admitted.

"Yeah. Well, I’m hungry. Can we go down and get some breakfast?" Mac slid off of the bed and went over to her suitcase.

"Of course. Honey, can you find a clean handkerchief for me?" Jack asked, rubbing his nose a little.

"Uh-huh." Mac went over to her father’s duffle bag and began fishing around through it, pulling one out and bringing it over. He accepted it and blew his nose, ignoring his daughter’s look of concern.

"You don’t sound very well," she told him, as she pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt. Mac rarely wore dresses at all, and once the Grand Duchesses had had to strap her to a chair and force her into one before her first dinner with the imperial family. She remembered Olga and Tatiana holding her by the arms and Maria and Anastasia holding down her legs while Anna Demidova, Alexandra’s parlor maid, struggled to pull the dress over her head. Luckily, everyone had escaped unscathed, because Jack had come in to discipline his daughter, ordering her to behave herself like a young lady would.

Jack went to find an outfit for himself, and headed into the bathroom to change. He looked at himself in the mirror and was shocked at the ghostly pale face staring back. He shuddered a bit as a chill went through him, and he quickly began to undress and put on his regular clothes. Once he was changed, he quickly placed his handkerchief against his nose and sneezed loudly, nearly falling right into the door as the force threw him forward. Jack went out of the bathroom, and saw that the girls were just finishing up dressing. "Let’s go and eat." Anastasia spoke up once she had buttoned up her dress. Once Fabrizio finished, the group left the cabin and made their way down to the saloon.

*****

Callista, Sam, and Michael, who had been waiting around the corner, quickly began walking after them, fully prepared for a new day of guarding. Well, Callista and Sam were awake and alert, but Michael was still half-asleep, and tripped several times as he stumbled down the deck.

Once again, the trio was dressed in black, the boys in their usual black slacks and silk shirts--Michael’s bright red and Sam’s black--and Callista was wearing an ankle-length black silk dress with flowing sleeves, and her white blonde hair was pulled up partially into a braided bun, and braided along both sides. Around her waist she wore a blood red silk belt. The dress covered the golden knife she kept in a sheath in her boot, so that people would not become suspicious.

Sam’s short black hair was spiked with a bit of gel, and Michael’s was slicked to one side as he had a bowl cut. When they got to the saloon, Sam noticed a sign hanging on the window, and he went over to read it. "Irish party tonight, eight o’clock. That sounds interesting."

"We should go." Callista laughed. "It sounds like fun!"

"Can we?" Michael wanted to know.

"I guess so," Sam agreed.

"I wonder if you know who will go," Michael added, as they went into the saloon and took a table towards the wall so they could keep an eye on the Dawsons and Anastasia.

"Oh, I’m sure she will." Callista snickered. "She, of all people, would go to this. I am positive."

A waiter came to their table and took their orders for breakfast, and then took their menus, bringing them back to the kitchen. Callista still felt sleepy, and wished desperately for one day when she did not have to get out of bed early. The beds on the Titanic, even in steerage, were very comfortable—soft and firm. The pillows were perfect, too, and the sheets were fresh.

The waiter came back with two cups of coffee; one with milk and one black, and a large glass of orange juice, and set them all down on the table. "Your food will be out in a few minutes," he told them, and left again.

Sam took his black coffee and blew on it before taking a sip. Michael was just about to speak when they heard a very loud and violent sneeze from Jack a few tables away, and the three of them jumped about a foot out of their seats. "Jesus," Sam gasped, glancing over. He heard a few random "Bless yous" throughout the saloon before he turned back to Callista and Michael.

"He does sound ill," Callista whispered. "He should be in bed…"

"Well, that’s up for him to decide," Sam whispered back. "If he’s anything like me, he probably hates to be fussed over. I’d rather take care of myself as much as I can. If I pass out, then I’ll have help." He laughed.

At last breakfast arrived, and time was taken up with eating rather than talk.

*****

Meanwhile, Rose, Coddie Anna, Cal, and Ruth sat at their own table in the first class dining room. Very minimal conversation was taking place at that time, as everyone was nervously anticipating the dinner that night.

"Mummy, why does he have to come?" Coddie Anna asked. "A steerage person?"

Rose gave her a warning look. "Now, Coddie Anna, I will ask you to be very respectful to Jack when he is here. He is a very nice man and he has children of his own that he will be bringing with him."

Coddie Anna scowled, but nodded anyway, glancing at Cal, who was watching her with a raised eyebrow as he sipped from his cup of coffee. "You’ll have nothing to worry about," he promised her calmly, receiving a glare from Rose.

"Worry about what?" she asked.

"Not at the table, please," Ruth told her daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law. Rose and Cal turned away from each other.

"You haven’t touched any of your breakfast, sweetheart," Rose pointed out, nodding to Coddie Anna’s still pretty full plate of bacon, eggs, white toast, and jam. Coddie Anna had barely taken a bite of the bread.

"Not hungry," Coddie Anna mumbled.

Rose sighed and glanced at her mother, who was chatting happily with the Countess of Rothes, and decided to allow her daughter to do as she pleased at the moment, rather than argue with her. It was not usually worth it, and Coddie Anna had a quick temper if triggered correctly. Rose thought that her daughter reminded her quite a bit of herself when she was much younger.

After breakfast, Rose decided she would go down to the steerage section of the ship to try and find Jack. "Would you like to come with me?" she asked Coddie Anna curiously.

"Not really," Coddie Anna mumbled.

"Go on," Ruth insisted. "I’ll look after her."

Rose smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mother." She kissed Coddie Anna quickly on the cheek before standing up to make her way to the steerage section of the ship. She knew she would feel awkward walking around in a fancy dress around these people, but she had to find Jack. It was important. Soon, she found herself descending a small flight of metal steps and entered the third class recreation area. She ignored the suspicious glances from the other passengers as she searched the floor. Finally, she saw him sitting on one of the benches, sketching three girls who were posing on the floor for him. They were lying on their backs in a triangle, their feet touching. Smiling, Rose made her way over to him, trying to fight down her nerves.

When she was standing a few feet away, she cleared her throat slightly, and he looked up. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her, and he blushed furiously. "Ah--Rose--" The girls immediately sat up, and they gasped.

Rose nodded. "Hello, Mr. Dawson. I don’t mean to barge in on you like this, but I was wondering if I could talk to you in private?"

Jack glanced at the children and nodded. "All right, you three, break," he announced, and the three of them stood up. "Girls, this is Rose DeWitt Bukater. Rose, this is my daughter, Mac, her cousin, Ana, and their friend, Cora."

Mac and Anastasia were both grinning so wide that it made their cheeks hurt a bit.

"A pleasure to meet you," Rose told them, with a respectful nod.

"Do you mind running off for a bit?" Jack asked his daughter calmly. "Rose and I need to talk in private, I believe."

Mac nodded. "Okay." Jack gave her a quick kiss and sent them off on their way before taking Rose’s arm.

"Shall we?" he asked, and she allowed him to lead her away. They went up to the first class promenade deck and began walking along the edge.

"So—so, tell me about yourself, Jack," Rose began quietly.

Jack smiled. "Well, let me see." He looked up at the sky and his forehead crinkled in thought. He had to leave out the bit of working at the palace, but he could do that easily, he figured. "I grew up in Wisconsin, and lived there until I was fifteen, when my parents died in a fire. Then I just took off and haven’t been back since."

"I’m sorry to hear that," Rose told him, frowning. "So, what did you do for work to survive on your own at that age?"

Jack smiled. "Well, I am an artist, so I drew portraits for ten cents apiece, and managed to snag a job here and there, tiny things, like working on boats and such."

Rose nodded. "I see. Now, I saw that you have a daughter, but where is your wife, Mr. Dawson?"

"Jack," Jack told her.

"Jack," she corrected herself.

"My wife died right after Mac was born, so I’m a widower at this point." He smiled.

"No kidding." Rose chuckled.

"Now, Rose, I’m sure you didn’t come up to ask me about my life, though I’m sure you were curious. What is it you wanted to talk to me about, really?" He stopped walking and leaned against the rail, giving her a serious look.

Rose sighed, going over to join him. "I…uh…I wanted to thank you for what you did, Jack, last night. Not just for—pulling me back, but for your discretion."

Jack smiled. "You’re welcome. Now, why were you trying to throw yourself off of the back of the ship?"

"It was--" Rose turned away and gazed out at the water. "It was everything. It was my whole world and all the people in it. Well, most of the people. Jack, I don’t know why I did it—I have a daughter, for Christ’s sake." She covered her face with her hands.

"You do?" Jack raised his eyes, startled. "Rose, it’s all right. I understand that you were upset." He touched her arm comfortingly.

Rose showed Jack the enormous diamond ring on her finger. "This might help explain things," she told him, and he took her hand to examine the ring closer.

"God, look at that thing!" He snickered. "You would have gone straight to the bottom!"

Rose shrugged. "I just had to get away...just run and run and run...and then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship...even the Titanic wasn't big enough. Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious. I'll show them. They'll be sorry!" She glanced at him. "I kept thinking of the wedding in Philadelphia when we get back. Five hundred invitations have gone out. All of Philadelphia’s society will be there…"

"So…your fiancé, Rose," Jack began softly. "Do you love him?"

Rose blinked. "I beg your pardon?" she asked, startled by such a blunt question.

"Do you love him?"

She raised her eyes. "You’re being very rude," she told him. "You shouldn’t be asking me this."

"Well," Jack smirked. "It’s a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?"

She turned away, raising her arms in the air. "This is not a suitable conversation!"

"Why can’t you just answer the question?" Jack chuckled.

Rose gave a huff and walked around a bit. "This is absurd!" she accused, pointing at him. "You don’t know me and I don’t know you, and we are not having this conversation at all! You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous and I am leaving now." She stretched out her hand and shook his. "Jack--Mr. Dawson--it’s been a pleasure. I’ve sought you out to thank you and now I have thanked you…"

Jack grinned. "And you’ve insulted me."

Rose grinned back. "Well, you deserved it!"

"Right." He laughed.

Rose started to turn away, but then she turned back quickly again. "You are so annoying! Wait, I don’t have to leave…this is my part of the ship. You leave." She pointed in the opposite direction. Jack grasped one of the ropes attached to the rail of the ship and his eyes were twinkling.

"Well, well, well! Now who’s being rude?" he teased, jumping a little as she took his sketch pad right out of his hand.

"What is this stupid thing you’re carrying around?"

She sat down on one of the deck chairs, and Jack took the seat next to her. "So, what are you, an artist or something?" She began to flip through his drawings. There were many sketches of a certain group of children and a pair of adults in very formal clothing. She noticed a sketch of one boy wearing a sailor suit and a sailor cap, and he was sitting on a chair with someone who looked like Jack’s daughter, leaning her forehead against his.

"Are these people your family, Jack?" Rose asked. "They seem to be the most frequent of your subjects."

Jack smiled. "No, but they are friends of ours. Very close friends, in fact. Rose, I meant to ask you, and I’m sorry if this is a personal question, but…were you…married before?"

Rose looked up from the pad and blinked. "What?"

"Well, you said you have a daughter, also."

Rose was quiet for a moment. "Yes, Jack, I was married before Cal. That’s my fiancé’s name, Caledon Hockley."

"What happened to your husband?" Jack pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket.

"Like you, Jack, I lost my husband as well." She jumped when he sneezed, nearly allowing a few of the drawings to fly away with the wind. "Bless you," she told him.

"Thanks. I’m coming down with something, I think," he grumbled. "I haven’t felt quite right since the first day." He had a feeling that the excessive traveling in the past few days had had an effect on his health.

"You should go and see the doctor, Jack. You do look pale."

"Well, I should be fine. After all, I can’t decline your invitation to dinner tonight, can I?" He winked.

She smiled back. "Well, it’s up to you, Jack. Now, I wanted to ask you something. Do you have clothes to wear for tonight, since it is very formal in first class?" She shut the sketch pad and handed it back to him again.

"Yes," Jack told her.

"Really?" Rose raised her eyes. "Do your girls have appropriate wear? I could lend them a few of my daughter’s gowns--"

Jack smiled. "That will not be necessary, but thank you."

Rose gaped. "Ah…well…all right, then…"

"Rose, how did your husband die?" Jack asked curiously.

"He died in a riding accident. He was out hunting with a few of his friends and his horse shied and threw him off--he broke his neck," Rose replied, her voice shaking a little. "Coddie Anna, my daughter, had just turned five when he died. So, forgive her if she acts a bit--haughty towards you tonight. She is eleven now, and quite the spitfire." Rose snickered. "Very much like myself at her age."

"That’s all right," Jack agreed. "My daughter is seven. But I’m very sorry to hear that that happened. It is very strange that the two of us lost a spouse, huh?" He smiled.

"Yes. I still feel like I…"

"Lost a part of yourself?" Jack asked, smiling softly.

Rose nodded. "He was my soulmate, Jack, I swear. We were even at a point where we could practically read each other’s minds. When he died I felt pain all over--I almost fell down the stairs."

Jack raised his eyes. "Well, I can’t say I felt quite like that, but I did shut myself up for about two days. I refused to see anyone, and hardly ate. I had to give my daughter to my sister and her husband until I could gather myself together. Mac has always been very overprotective of me since we met for the first time, when she was four."

Rose smiled as Jack continued. "Sometimes I still feel like I’m not raising her properly. I can’t be both a mother and a father to her, Rose. I can’t…no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t work." He rubbed his hand over his face. "I’m sorry," he apologized. "This is the last thing you want to hear, I’m sure."

Rose touched his arm. "Jack, don’t apologize. And you should not feel that you need to be both a mother and a father to her. She’ll love you just as her father, I assure you. Sometimes fathers try too hard."

Jack nodded. "I suppose so. And, unfortunately, I have not been well, so that is cutting down on what I can do with her."

Rose looked down at her feet. "We’re a sorry bunch, aren’t we, Mr. Dawson?" She snickered. "Jack, I’m glad I found you to talk to. It feels wonderful to just let it all out, you know? I can never have heart-to-heart’s with Cal. He doesn’t understand what I went through. He acts like Andrew--my dead husband--never existed."

Jack scowled. "That’s not right, Rose…"

"I know, Jack, but try telling him that." She blew out her breath. "Honestly, I was tempted to drag him out and throw him overboard last night." She laughed, and so did Jack. Then, she smiled. "Tell me about those people in the sketches. You said they were family, right?"

Jack paled even more than he already was. "Er—yes, they are," he lied. "Rose, I…"

"Oh, embarrassing family stories follow this? Terrific! I need something funny." She laughed.

"Rose, I can’t…I mean…not now, anyway…"

"Oh, come on, Jack. They can’t be any worse than my family, for heaven’s sake."

Jack’s lips turned into a very thin line, and he refused to say a word. Rose finally took the hint and nodded, not wanting to push him too much, though curiosity still burned inside of her. "Oh, all right, Mr. Dawson, I’ll let you off of the hook…for now, anyway."

He laughed. "What? Are you going to try and pester me later about it?" he joked.

"Maybe." Rose grinned. "Jack, it’s freezing out here. You should get inside before you catch pneumonia," she ordered. "I will see you tonight at 7:30 sharp. All right?"

Jack stood up, rubbing his arms as another brisk wind blew past sharply. "7:30 it is, then. It was a pleasure talking with you, Rose." He kissed her hand softly, and he saw her cheeks turn pink. "Until then." He smiled softly and waved as he turned to head back down to third class, where he met up with the girls, who were now resting in the cabin.

"Do you like her?" Mac asked, as her father entered the room and shut the door behind him.

"Are you gonna marry her?" Anastasia added.

Jack laughed. "I do like her, and as for marriage, I do not think that is going to happen. She is engaged, honey. I’m sorry," Jack told Mac, sitting down on his bed and removing his shoes.

"You can steal her from her fiancé, like in stories." Anastasia giggled.

Jack came over to Anastasia and playfully squeezed her cheeks together so that her lips looked like those of a fish. "Now, listen to me, the both of you," he said. "I do not want either of you involved in this. Do you understand?" He raised an eyebrow as he let Anastasia go.

"But…" Mac started to protest.

"Mac, the answer is no," Jack told her seriously. "If anything happens, I want it to be Rose’s decision. I do not want you two manipulating her in any way."

"Us?" Anastasia asked sweetly. "Whatever do you mean?"

Jack cocked his head to one side and gave her a warning stare. "I will let your father know you have been naughty, my dear, and I am sure that he will not be too pleased to hear that you have been meddling."

Anastasia gasped. "Yes, sir." She shrunk backwards.

Jack chuckled. "Now, I think it’s time for all of us to take a nap for an hour or so before tea."

"Okay." Mac lay down on her bed, and so did Anastasia, and both girls watched as Jack got into his own bunk and lay down. Within moments, everyone was fast asleep, listening to the faint rumbling of the Titanic’s engine and the sloshing of the waves up against the sides.

Chapter Eleven
Stories