STARTING ANEW
Chapter Eleven
Jack carried his art folder to a charming
little park a few blocks from the hotel. Smaller and quieter than Central Park,
he hoped he could concentrate there on the drawing that he wanted to do. This
was far different than the one he had done of Rose on Titanic. Someday, when
the trauma of that night faded, he wanted to do that one again. No, the drawing
he had in mind for today had been on his mind for five years.
For all that time, since the death of his
parents, Jack had carried their images in his heart. He had not been able to
bring them to paper. Now that he had a life ahead with Rose, he felt healed
enough to think about Hank and Edy the way they had been before the fire.
Before that horrible night when Jack had been away.
It had been a freak combination of
circumstances that had caused the deaths of Hank and Edy Dawson. A lamp had
been left burning on the first floor. When the wild storm came suddenly with the
winds wreaking havoc on everything in its path their fate was sealed. The old
tree outside the house crashed through the walls blocking their way downstairs
and knocking over the lamp. With no way out, they were dead from the smoke in
minutes.
When Jack returned home the next morning,
there was nothing left of his home or his family. He was numb and all that had
once been joyous and creative inside him was dead. He also felt guilty. Perhaps
if he had been home, he might have saved them. He knew that he could not stay
in Chippewa Falls, could not endure the pitying gazes of friends and neighbors.
Jack remained long enough to bury his parents, then gratefully accepted a few
donations of clothes and some money. He said good bye to his best friend Jay
and turned his back on Chippewa Falls. One day, when his heart was healed and
his courage returned, he might be able to face it all again. And so Jack had
headed off on his own to an uncertain future.
Jack found a quiet corner in the park and
settled down with his sketchbook. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and
at last he was able to picture his parents in happier times. He could see the
handsome, laughing pair that he wanted to remember. Slowly they came to life in
his mind. Now he would be able to show Rose and she could have some connection
with his past.
He put his pencil to the paper and began to
sketch. At first it was hard, but slowly he made his parents come to life. The
scene he drew was the last time the family had gone on a picnic. His mom was
seated on the ground looking up at his dad, who towered above her. She looked
lovingly into his eyes. The tall lanky man in his thirties looked down at her.
He had straight hair that was a little too long, a gentle face despite the
sharp angles of his facial structure and eyes that had a dreamlike quality to
them. His mother sat with her face turned upward. A riot of curly hair framed
her face. Like Jack, it was her eyes that made a person look twice. Her eyes,
like Jack's were piercing in their intense gaze, but not in a frightening way.
Rather as though she could look right through a person and see their soul.
Jack sat for awhile refining his work until
he was finally satisfied. As he studied his work, he was overcome with
emotions. Tears misted his eyes as he thought about their lives being cut
short, of how they would never know Rose. He allowed himself to dwell upon
these thoughts for a few more minutes. Then feeling at peace and relieved of
these emotions, he carefully slipped the drawing into his folder.
As he stood up and brushed off his clothes he
was amazed at how free he felt after finally releasing the ghosts of his past
and taking them out for all the world to see. He was ready to move ahead now
with his life with Rose. He thought about what his mother used to say to him
when she saw him wasting time. She would tell him to make every minute count,
live everyday to it's fullest, for you never know what will happen. Well his
parents had led full lives, though short ones. He would have a full life with
Rose. He wasn't about to waste a minute of their time together.
Jack smiled to himself as he walked back to
the hotel. He would give this picture to Rose this evening. Now their children
could see who their grandparents had been. He had something tangible to
remember them by. He hoped that his parents knew of his great happiness and
smiled down on his good fortune.