DAWSON’S TRAVELS
Chapter One
April 10, 1907
Jack Dawson sighed glumly as he
stared down at the ashes that used to be his home. It was hard to believe that
just two days ago he had been in the kitchen with his mother, talking about
this year’s harvest while his father read the newspaper at the table. Now here
he was, two days later...his parents dead...his house gone...this year's
harvest forgotten. What was he going to do now? What was expected of him? The
neighbors and townsfolk...they all expected him to do what any other Chippewa
Falls lad would do. Rebuild and carry on in his pa's footsteps. But not Jack.
No, Jack Dawson had bigger and better plans. Jack Dawson was going to leave
this small town, and he was going to head out for the horizon and become a
world famous artist! His life's goal. The one thing that had kept him going
through the past two days was the thought of his goal, and he wasn't going to
give it up to please a couple of old folks who wanted to stick with their
traditions.
Jack sighed once more, saying a
silent farewell to the life he had once known, and turned around to come face
to face with one of his best friends in the whole world, Leah Calvert. Her
clear gray eyes spoke her unhappiness at what he was going to do.
"You're making a mistake,
Jack. Don't go. Stay."
"I can't stay, Leah. I'll
never become a world famous artist if I stay. You know that." Jack sighed.
They had had this conversation the day before yesterday, when Jack had first
told her he was leaving.
Leah laughed. "Jack Dawson,
you know good and well that you're never going to be a world famous artist. I
mean, don't get me wrong. You're good. You definitely have talent. But an
artist has to be dead in order to be famous for his works. Is that what you
want to be? Dead?"
"You don't understand."
Jack glared at his friend. She was just like the rest of the people here in
Chippewa Falls. Too scared to venture out and see what the world had to offer.
Just wanted to stay in their own little corner of the world, where everything
was nice and safe. Jack truly believed that he was the only adventurous soul
among them. "I'm doing what they would have done at my age if they had the
chance. I'm making it count, starting now. Leah, if their deaths have taught me
one thing, it's that. Make each day count. Because you never know what life's
going to throw at ya."
"Your father's favorite
lecture." Leah sighed in defeat, knowing now that it was useless trying to
talk her friend into staying. "Make each day count."
"Right. Now, do you see why
I have to go?"
"It's what he wanted for
you." Leah sighed again. "Okay, Jack. You win. Go. Get out of here
and don't come back. But do me a favor. Write. Let me know how life's been
treating you. Do at least that much for me. Promise me now, Jack. Promise to
write."
"I promise." Jack took
her hand and met her gaze meaningfully.
Leah sighed as she remembered her
mother's conversation with Jack's mother one day. Neither woman had known that
she was nearby, but the comment hadn't been lost on her.
"Myrtle, I think my son's
sweet on your girl, Leah. Wouldn't surprise me if they up and married each
other someday." Irene Dawson smiled over at her best friend.
"Wouldn't surprise me a
bit." Myrtle Calvert laughed with glee.
Leah sighed sadly. Her heart had
skipped a beat at that comment. Her secret crush on Jack was definitely noticed
by all but him, and now she was losing him for good. She had never had a chance
to tell him how she truly felt. "Take care of yourself, Jack Dawson, and
come back and visit us if you can."
"I promise." Jack
smiled. "Take care of yourself, Leah."
"I will." Leah smiled
as he dropped her hand and turned to leave, his blond hair blowing in the wind.
That was her last sight of him.
Walking away from her, whistling a happy tune, his duffle bag thrown over one
shoulder. He looked back once, waved, turned back around, and disappeared over
the horizon.