Written by Chohong Choi
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

Reading Rose’s Heart

You wouldn’t have jumped.

The words kept playing in Rose’s head, over and over. Jack was the first person in some time to read her correctly, and that made him special, unlike her mother and the shallow Cal. Jack may be poor, she thought, but he was no ordinary pauper. If only it were he, and not Cal, who was her fiancé! Ah…I can always dream, can’t I?

"Rose?"

No answer. Rose was still thinking about Jack’s last words.

"Rose, are you there?"

"Oh, I’m sorry, Jack! I was still thinking about what you said."

"Sure looked like it. It must have struck a chord with ya. But don’t dwell on it, Rose. You got a lot to live for, and I know you’ll do it."

Rose gave a weak smile. Jack has put so much faith in me, something Cal would never do.

"You know what?" Jack continued. "It’s chow time again. Shall we go first class or third class?"

"Third class, definitely!" said Rose. They would never let Jack enter the first class dining room dressed like that, anyway, but tonight is a different matter. "They would not mind a lady dining with them, would they?"

"Not as long as you’re with me," said Jack. "And I’ll be getting an early look at how a first class lady takes her meals!"

Dinner in Third Class

Jack and Rose descended to the third class dining saloon on F-Deck. The tables were divided pretty much according to nationality–the Irish taking up several tables, the Syrians taking up one table, the Chinese taking up another table, etc. One exception was the table occupied by Jack’s friends. Fabrizio, Tommy, and the Dahl family–an Italian, an Irishman, and some Scandinavians–were already seated around one of the large rectangular tables eating dinner, as lunch was called at the time.

"Well, well, well, Jack!" exclaimed Tommy. "Angels really did fly out of yer arse! You got the luck of the Irish in ya!"

Other diners paused to stare at Rose, the same princess who had come down to the general room in the morning. Rose began to feel self-conscious again.

"Hi, Tommy, Fabri. What’s for dinner?"

"Bouillon soup, roast beef with gravy, beans, potatoes, cabin biscuits, and bread and butter."

"Sounds great," said Jack. "What say we find a table, Rose?"

"Sounds good," said Rose.

The two walked over to one of the emptier tables at the end of the room, at which only an elderly man was seated. The man hardly noticed their approach at first, since he was busy wolfing down his dinner. The well done roast beef was tough on his remaining worn out teeth, but he devoured it without fail.

"Hi, old-timer," said Jack, to break the ice. "Can we sit here?"

The elderly man looked up from his meal. He was momentarily taken aback by the sight of a first class lady in this part of the ship. He eyed Rose curiously.

"Haven’t I seen you somewhere?" he asked, turning his attention back to Jack.

"Possibly," said Jack. "I’ve eaten here every day since I boarded this ship."

"Of course you have," said the elderly man. "But I’m sure she hasn’t." He smiled, pointing to Rose.

"Oh, she’s with me," explained Jack. "We only met yesterday…at the stern of the ship."

The elderly man laughed. "Why, where else would a first class lady and a third class lad meet?" There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

Jack chuckled at the elderly man’s remark. Rose could only give a polite smile. Remember, Jack. Do not tell anyone what really happened last night, she prayed.

"Well, then," continued the elderly man. "Have a seat!"

"Thanks," said Jack. He and Rose sat across from the elderly man.

"What’s that you have there, laddie?" asked the elderly man about Jack’s sketchpad.

"Oh, this? They’re just some drawings I made while in France," answered Jack.

"May I see it?"

"Sure, but be careful," said Jack half-jokingly as he winked at Rose, who held her breath in anticipation of the surprise the elderly man was sure to get.

Their attention was diverted by a waiter who approached the table. Jack ordered first. "I’ll have everything. And please make it quick." Previously unaccustomed to being waited on in a restaurant, Jack had learned the ropes of upscale dining in the last couple of days. For the average third class passenger on the Titanic, this was the best food and service he or she had ever experienced.

"Miss, wouldn’t you prefer to take your dinner upstairs?" politely inquired the waiter, who saw that Rose was not a third class passenger.

"If it is all right, I would like to have my dinner here. I will pay for it, if need be," Rose explained.

"There is no charge for you, miss.  What can I bring you?"

"I will have everything, as well.  But in smaller portions, please."

The waiter left to place their orders.

Meeting a Vet

Jack and Rose’s attention returned to the elderly man, who was up to the one-legged prostitute pictures and seemed rather underwhelmed. He looked up to see them staring at him.

"By the way, the name’s Angus McKenzie," he said, introducing himself between bites while alternating his attention between Jack’s drawings and Jack and Rose.

"Jack Dawson," replied Jack, offering his hand to Angus, who also shook Rose’s hand.

"Rose DeWitt Bukater," said Rose obligingly.

Angus gave Rose a puzzled look. "I may have to get you to write that down for me!"

Jack and Rose looked at each other, realized it was the exact same thing he had said to her the previous night, and laughed.

"Now I recognize ya," said Angus to Jack. "You’re friends with that Irish lad over there." He pointed to Tommy.

"Why, yes. I met Tommy on this ship. He’s going to America for the first time."

"And that lad next to Tommy," continued Angus, pointing to Fabrizio. "I saw the two of you howlin’ like Rebs at the bow of this ship a couple of days ago."

Jack gave a sheepish grin. "That’s Fabrizio. He’s Italian, but I met him in Marseilles when we both slept under a bridge. Fabrizio’s going to America for the first time, too."

"It seems that you’ve hardly seen the ocean before, Jack," quipped Angus.

"Not until a few years ago," answered Jack. "I’m from Wisconsin, and the biggest bodies of water there are lakes."

"Ah…Wisconsin. Must be cold up there," surmised Angus, a look of unease in his eyes.

"In the winters, definitely. I fell into a lake once through thin ice. Say, Mr. McKenzie, you sound Irish. First time to America?"

"Not at all," answered Angus, now consuming his food a little more slowly. "I’ve called it home for most of my life. Only returned to the Emerald Isle this year to bury me mum. First time I’ve been back on a ship with so many people–in a very long time."

"Why is that?" asked Rose.

"It’s a long story," said Angus. "Longer than you’ve been alive, my dear." He paused. "I grew up in Ireland during the starving times. Came to America with me mum and sister when I was twelve. We landed in New York and lived near the Five Points for a few years. Me mum wanted to escape the crime, so we went west to Ohio. And then the war began the next year."

"Which war?" asked Rose.

"The war. Between the states. The civil war between the Union and the Confederacy."

"Golly!" exclaimed Jack. "That was over fifty years ago!"

"Right you are," said Angus. "And I was in it."

"You mean as a soldier?" inquired Jack. "For the Union?"

"That’s right. I enlisted at seventeen," said Angus with a sigh. "I thought it was a good way to earn some money to send home to me mum. Of course, I didn’t realize the risks."

The three were briefly interrupted by the waiter returning with Jack and Rose's meals. They both wasted no time digging in. Rose, still abiding by a first class lady's dining etiquette, placed a napkin on her lap before commencing to eat.

"This is quite good," said Rose of the roast beef, as she gracefully cut it up before putting another small piece in her mouth. Angus and Jack looked on with amusement.

"Probably not as good as the Ritz," joked Jack with his mouth half-full, in reference to the most popular restaurant in Titanic’s first class.

"No, I’m serious! I like it!" Rose ate a little faster, to show how good the food tasted. She nearly choked, and had to pause for water.

"Slow down, my dear. We believe you," advised Angus, "but it would be a shame for you to ruin that lovely dress."

Rose examined herself. Luckily, there were no stains. Any stain would have stood out on this yellow and white dress. She smiled. "That was close! What would my mother say if I ruined it?" Who cares? she thought. What a difference a day makes. Last night I was having a miserable time upstairs and getting ready to jump off this ship, and today I’m actually enjoying dinner in steerage. It is just so ironic!

One Hellish Affair

All three continued with their dinners, with Angus studying Jack’s drawings intensely. Then the talk returned to the Civil War.

"My grandfather was in the war, too," confided Jack. "He sometimes told me stories of the battles he was in, but mostly he talked about army life between battles, like the games they’d play and the songs they’d sing and getting their portraits drawn by war artists. I guess he didn’t want to scare me by talking about men being killed, and…"

"It’s a good thing he didn’t," interrupted Angus. "The war was one hellish affair. None of us who’ve fought it want to relive it. We’d rather make amends. I’m comin’ up on the golden jubilee of my first battle later this year, and I want to be there to see who else is left after all these years."

"Which one would that be?" asked Jack.

"Antietam, and it’ll be fifty years in September." Angus sat back and sighed. "So long, yet so fast."

"The name sounds kind of familiar. My grandfather might have mentioned it a few times. Was there some kind of cornfield involved?"

"Ah…yes! The cornfield!" Angus interjected. "So your grandpa was in the Army of the Potomac like me. Let me tell you, lad. We were a proud army, and we fought our hearts out at Antietam. It lasted only a day, but it was the bloodiest day of the war! Your grandfather must have seen a lot of misery in that cornfield. There was enough horror on that field to fill the memories of all who were there several times over. In the end, what did we get? Our commander sacked by Mr. Lincoln and replaced by an idiot! Little Mac was so good to us."

"Little Mac?" asked Jack.

"Oh, that’s a nickname for General McClellan. A bit taller than me, actually, but he was little next to Mr. Lincoln." He chuckled. "It was nice to see an Irishman lead such a great army." Angus paused before correcting himself. "All right, half-Irish. And the president sacked him after he’d saved our country."

"My father told me about General McClellan, Mr. McKenzie," said Rose, who had been listening with interest. "He was born in Philadelphia. My father met him when he was a boy and McClellan was governor of New Jersey. He is buried just across the river from where he was born. My father never elaborated on his war service. He probably did not think a young lady would understand anything about war."

"Well, Rose, you’re not alone," said Jack, winking. He turned to Angus. "Wow. I guess my grandfather didn’t want to dampen my spirit of adventure by telling me what the war was really like."

"Laddie, there’s no adventure in war," retorted Angus. "Your grandpa was wise not to fill you up on it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so full of adventure right now." He sighed, licked his plate clean, and concluded his meal by nibbling on a cabin biscuit. "When you’ve been through war, you learn to appreciate the finer things in life." He turned to Rose, who had been staring at his plate licking with polite incredulity. "See this piece of hardtack here? It’s nothing to you, but I will never waste such good food. Not after what I went through. Antietam was just the beginning."

"What could be worse than Antietam, Mr. McKenzie?" queried Rose, obviously not used to hearing someone describe a cheap cracker so adoringly.

"I was made a prisoner on the fourth summer of the war, and shipped to a prison camp in Georgia. Name was Andersonville, and the devil himself couldn’t have run it worse."

"It was that bad, huh?" asked Jack.

"Worse than bad. Didn’t have a proper place to wash and shite. We drank from an open sewer, and had almost nothing to eat. When there was food, it wasn’t fit for rats! Even the rats disappeared, because we ate ‘em." Angus looked at Rose, who seemed ready to throw up.

"I lost four stone from me stout frame during my ten months there. If that weren’t bad enough, some of us turned on each other, beating and stealin’ from our own to stay alive, while the Reb guards laughed. It was like a civil war inside a civil war. Worst of all was when it rained. We had no roof over our heads, so we had to dig holes in the ground and cover them with rags taken from the dead! We might as well be diggin’ our own graves. For thirteen thousand of us, that’s what it was! Six of them were my friends." Angus, visibly incensed, paused to catch his breath. Talking about his prison experience had brought back unpleasant memories.

"It was worse than Ireland during the starving times," continued Angus. "Lucky for me, I was a strong lad, and no stranger to the lack of food. That’s what kept me alive, though I caught the runs six times and lost three teeth from scurvy."

"I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. McKenzie," remarked Rose, looking stunned and sick to her stomach. She could practically smell the stench of Andersonville just by hearing Angus describe it. No one she knew had ever experienced such hardship.

"We weren’t the only ones starving. When the war ended, we passed through the countryside on our way home. It looked an awful mess. Them Reb folk didn’t know where their next meal was coming from. I saw mothers trying to feed their babies, just like your picture here," said Angus, referring to Jack’s drawing of the mother breastfeeding. "Except they had no milk to give. And the cripples," he continued, as he looked at the drawing of the one-legged prostitute, "I saw enough of them to fill a regiment! We’d just left hell, but I pitied all those Reb civilians, even if their men had caused us so much misery."

"Gosh," exclaimed Jack weakly. "And I only wanted to depict the beauty of life. You certainly went through quite a nightmare, Mr. McKenzie."

"That wasn’t the end of it. The train taking us from Andersonville derailed, and more of us were killed or injured. Then it stopped two days’ march short of the Mississippi, where we were supposed to catch a boat heading north. We had to make the rest of the way on foot, and that wasn’t easy, given our weak condition. Even worse, it rained for those two days. Just like at Andersonville."

"My goodness," muttered Rose, with a dumbfounded look on her face. "You went through a lot, Mr. McKenzie. I would not have lasted two minutes in such conditions."

"Wait," said Angus. "There was still the Sultana."

"Sultana?" repeated Jack.

"That was the steamer that would take us home up the Mississippi," explained Angus. "The owners were paid by the head, so they crammed as many people as they could on that boat, and it was a tenth as large as this one. Made no difference if they were prisoner or civilian. One night, an explosion on board shook us from our sleep. Next thing I knew, everyone was running for the few lifeboats on board. People pushed and fought each other for a seat, with no regard for women and children. I couldn’t swim, so I stayed on the steamer for as long as I could. That was a smart choice. People who jumped early couldn’t fight the current and cold at the same time. I finally jumped as the fire pushed me off. Stayed in the freezing water for twenty minutes, clinging to a piece of wood before a boat picked me up. It seemed like twenty years, but I was one of the lucky ones. I never imagined how cold a river could be in April. The water just pierced me to the bone. I didn’t know if I was dead or alive."

"Just like my experience falling through the ice," added Jack.

Such a revelation reminded Rose of her suicide attempt. Jack is right, she thought. The freezing water does hit you like a thousand knives. What was I thinking?

"I’ll never forget the screams of the people in the water. Over fifteen hundred of us died that night. And to think, the war was over, and even Mr. Lincoln was dead. We’d already left the gates of hell!" Angus’ lips visibly shook as he spoke. "We were so happy to be free again that when a photographer was going to take a picture of the Sultana passing, we crowded the deck to get in it. It was the last time we were all together. Maybe I should have died there with my friends. We’d gone through hell like a band of brothers." Angus paused to reflect on his words. "But I was almost home. No river was going to claim me when the war couldn’t."

"Mr. Lincoln said we were fighting for a new country–one that would be free for all people. I had to stay alive to see it. It’s like a farmer who wants to see the fruits of his labor. My friends who died, I believe they wanted me to live on–to be their eyes in this new country." Angus calmed down a little.

"Our suffering may be worth it. We taught the world a valuable lesson. I believe there will never be a war as terrible as ours," Angus confidently declared. "And I don’t think we’ll ever have as terrible a tragedy as Sultana again. I will join my friends in Yankee heaven, but not so fast. I didn’t eat my fair share in this world before the war, and God should let me make that up before He comes for me," joked Angus.

Conquer Your Fears

With his last statement, Angus lightened up a bit. Turning to Rose, he asked, "What about you, my dear? What did your grandfathers do in the war?"

Rose had anticipated this question, and thought about her answer while hearing Angus describe his ordeal. She finished the last of her dinner, and wiped her mouth and took a drink of water before answering. "I’m not totally sure about my maternal grandfather. My mother does not like to talk about it, but I heard from other relatives that he was too old to join, so he went into business and made his fortune selling the government inferior uniforms–something called..." Rose had trouble remembering the word.

"Shoddy," said Angus with a grin.

"Yes, I think that was it. For a while, he was in the business with JP Morgan, whom you may know of. His company actually owns the White Star Line." She paused. "As for my paternal grandfather, he did not have to fight either. He…hired a substitute." Rose’s voice trailed off. Suddenly, she felt like the least distinguished member of the three–the one whose grandfathers escaped military service in the war while less affluent men took their place. Her social standing meant nothing in this situation. Angus sensed the guilt.

"Don’t feel so down, my dear. People should be judged on their own merits, not what their forefathers merited. Something about you sets you apart from your class by your coming down here and sitting with us commoners, and I admire that."

"Th-thank you, Mr. McKenzie," replied Rose. "I can only imagine your painful experience." She turned to Jack. "And yours, too, Jack. All my life, I have had my needs taken care of. I’m afraid if I were in either of your situations, I would never survive."

"Afraid?" asked Angus. "When I grew up hungry in Ireland, I was afraid of starvin’ to death. When I saw the elephant at Antietam, I was afraid of getting killed. At Andersonville, I was afraid of dying a slow, painful death. When I was floatin’ in the Mississippi, I was afraid of freezing. I won’t say that I got over them right away. Why, I was so scared of getting on a boat that it took me until last month to find the courage to cross the Hudson by ferry to Manhattan so I could board a ship for Ireland. Then there was the much longer trip across the Atlantic. Don’t think I wasn’t thinking about Sultana for almost every minute of my trip."

Rose listened intently. She was beginning to sense Angus’ point.

"I had to work up the courage to get on a ship, because me mum was waiting to be buried back home," continued Angus. "She made me promise her that before she died, because it was important to her. Now I’m makin’ my third boat trip in a month. When something matters so much to you, you will do it, no matter what."

Rose looked at Jack, who agreed totally with what Angus had said by assuredly nodding his head, and smiled.

Angus knew he had made an impression on Rose. "My dear, there must be something you’ve been wantin’ to do for a long time, but been afraid to. You don’t have to tell me what. I won’t say it will be easy, but you’d much rather try and fail than regret it when you’re my age. Conquer your fears. I know you can do it."

I know you can do it. Such words were similar to what Jack had said to her before they came down for dinner. Amazing, thought Rose. Two third class passengers whom I have just met have shown more faith in me than anyone I have known in years. The world has turned upside down!

"That was a nice chat we had," said Angus. "It’s nice to have some dining companions after being at sea so much in the last month. And what a pleasant surprise that one of them is a lady!" He grinned as he said it.

"It was my pleasure, Mr. McKenzie," replied Rose, offering her hand to Angus.

"Mine, too," said Jack, who also shook Angus’ hand.

"So, then. What do you two have planned for later?"

Jack and Rose looked at each other, and smiled. "Rose is inviting me to a first class dinner," answered Jack.

Angus’ eyes lit up. "Laddie, you have the luck of the Irish in ya. But what will you wear?"

"What I have on now."

Angus gave Jack a critical stare. "Hmm…hope you can do better than that! Even a Yankee uniform would be an improvement. Too bad I burned mine, but it’d be too small for ya anyway," he joked.

"Oh, I think Jack will manage," chimed in Rose. "After all, he was invited to dinner by my fiancé."

"I’m sure you’ll manage," said Angus. "But just be prepared. You won’t have any friends from steerage with ya. But don’t be overwhelmed. Just be yourself, not what they want you to be."

"Thanks, Mr. McKenzie. I’ll remember that," said Jack.

"Do not worry, Mr. McKenzie. I will be there to help Jack," said Rose.

"Good luck," said Angus. "Maybe you can tell me how it went tomorrow."

"I certainly will," replied Jack.

Reflections

Jack and Rose left the dining room and returned upstairs to A-Deck. By then, it was late afternoon.

"Wow, that Angus McKenzie is an amazing character," said Rose. "And I thought my life was full of problems."

"It’s all about perspective, Rose," said Jack. "Angus survived much worse than what we went through by seeing the good in his bad situations. That made him a better person, and that’s what I’d like to be."

Rose became excited. "So would I! You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist…living in a garret, poor but free!"

Continued in The Last Full Day.

Stories