TITANIC: A STORY TOLD
Chapter Nineteen
Jack sat on a bench in the sun. Titanic’s
wake spread out behind him to the horizon. He had his knees pulled up,
supporting a leather bound sketching pad, his only valuable possession. With
conte crayon he drew rapidly, using sure strokes. An emigrant from Manchester
named Cartmell had his three-year-old daughter Cora standing on the lower rung
of the rail. She was leaned back against his beer barrel of a stomach, watching
the seagulls.
The sketch captured them perfectly, with a
great sense of the humanity of the moment. Jack was good. Really good. Fabrizio
looked over Jack’s shoulder. He nodded appreciatively.
Tommy Ryan, a scowling young Irish emigrant,
watched as a crew member came by, walking three small dogs around the deck. One
of them, a black French bulldog, was among the ugliest creatures on the planet.
"That’s typical. First class dogs come
down here to take a shit."
Jack looked up from his sketch.
"That’s so we know where we rank in the
scheme of things."
"Like we could forget."
Jack glanced across the well deck. At the aft
railing of B deck promenade stood Rose, in a long yellow dress and white
gloves.
Jack was unable to take his eyes off of her.
They were across from each other, about 60 feet apart, with the well deck like
a valley between them. She on her promontory, he on his much lower one. She
stared down at the water.
He watched her unpin her elaborate hat and
take it off. She looked at the frilly absurd thing, then tossed it over the
rail. It sailed far down to the water and was carried away, astern. A spot of
yellow in the vast ocean. He was riveted by her. She looked like a figure in a
romantic novel, sad and isolated.
Fabrizio tapped Tommy and they both looked at
Jack gazing at Rose. Fabrizio and Tommy grinned at each other.
Rose turned suddenly and looked right at
Jack. He was caught staring, but he didn’t look away. She did, but then looked
back. Their eyes met across the space of the well deck, across the gulf between
worlds.
Jack saw a man, Cal, come up behind her and
take her arm. She jerked her arm away. They argued inaudibly. She stormed away,
and he went after her, disappearing along the A-deck promenade. Jack stared
after her.
"Forget it, boyo. You’d as like have
angels fly out o’ yer arse as get next to the likes o’ her."