TITANIC: A STORY TOLD
Chapter Forty-Two
Titanic steamed along in the dusk light, as
if lit by the embers of a giant fire. As the ship moved over the sea, someone
stood at the bow. Jack was there, right at the apex of the bow railing, his
favorite spot. He closed his eyes, letting the chill wind clear his head.
Jack heard Rose’s voice, behind him.
"Hello, Jack."
He turned, and she was standing there.
"I changed my mind."
He smiled at her, his eyes drinking her in.
Her cheeks were red with the chill wind, and her eyes sparkled. Her hair blew
wildly about her face.
"Fabrizio said you might be up--"
"Shh. Come here."
He put his hands on her waist, as if he was
going to kiss her.
"Close your eyes."
She did, and he turned her to face forward,
the way the ship was going. He pressed her gently to the rail, standing right
behind her.
"Okay, step up onto the railing."
He helped her up. "Do you trust me?"
She nodded. "I trust you."
He took her two hands and raised them until
she was standing with her arms outstretched on each side. Rose was going along
with him. When he lowered his hands, her arms stayed up...like wings.
"Okay. Open them."
Rose gasped. There was nothing in her field of
vision but water. It was like there was no ship under them at all, just the two
of them soaring. The Atlantic unrolled toward her, a hammered copper shield
under a dusk sky. There was only the wind, and the hiss of the water fifty feet
below.
"I’m flying, Jack! I’m flying!"
She leaned forward, arching her back. He put
his hands on her waist to steady her.
Jack sang softly in Rose’s ear. "Come
Josephine in my flying machine..."
Rose closed her eyes, feeling herself
floating weightless far above the sea. She smiled dreamily, then leaned back,
gently pressing her back against his chest. He pushed forward slightly against
her.
Slowly, he raised his hands, arms
outstretched, and they met hers...fingertips gently touching. Then their
fingers intertwined. Moving slowly, their fingers caressed through and around
each other like the bodies of two lovers.
Jack tipped his face forward into her blowing
hair, letting the scent of her wash over him, until his cheek was against her
ear.
Rose turned her head until her lips were near
his. She lowered her arms, turning further, until she found his mouth with
hers. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and they kissed like this,
with her head turned, and tilted back, surrendering to him, to the emotion, to
the inevitable. They kissed, slowly and tremulously, and then with building
passion.
Jack and the ship seemed to merge into one
force of power and optimism, lifting her, buoying her forward on a magical
journey, soaring onward into a night without fear.
*****
In the crow’s nest, high above and behind
them, lookout Frederick Fleet nudged his mate, Reginald Lee, pointing down at
the figures in the bow.
Fleet shook his head. "Wish I had those
bleeding binoculars."
*****
Jack and Rose, embracing at the bow rail,
stepped slowly away, leaving the bow of the ship.