THERE YOU’LL BE
Chapter Thirteen

April 1, 1913

Dear diary,

Yesterday Jack and I arrived at Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. This isn’t how I imagined it at all. Its so picturesque. I can imagine Jack as a young boy running around this town.

We are staying at the Country Inn. It’s a very small and quaint hotel. The owners are a nice old couple and according to Jack they ran the hotel when he was a young boy.

Jack is very happy but uneasy about been back here.

I suspect the memories are killing him. He told me all about his parents on the way here and I would have loved to have met them. They sounded like such good hearted people. It’s heartbreaking he has to live without his parents.

Jack is such a good man and he doesn’t deserve to suffer the grief.

I miss my father dearly. I think of him daily. He would have loved Megan, she is such a beautiful child.

I miss my daughter terribly but I am glad to be here in Wisconsin. I think back to the night when Jack saved me from jumping overboard, almost a year ago to the day. I think about when he told me he was from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. That he was ice fishing when he was a child with his father. I can honestly say I would never have imagined me here a year on. Never would I have thought in my wildest of dreams I would even be here in Jack’s hometown, never mind would I have married him or given birth to his child.

When I saw him there that night, this crazy man telling me he would be prepared to jump overboard if I had decided to I thought he was bluffing.

This obviously poor steerage boy who was telling me what to do. I had immediately remembered my place in society and had told him in so many words to leave me alone but he had proceeded to convince me to not jump overboard.

I didn’t dislike him, I had a feeling he was someone special in his own way. But I knew he wasn’t special to me. I thought he never would become a large role in my life. I thought I would never speak to him again.

That night I didn’t have feelings for him, feel attracted to him in any way or think of him in a romantic way but I did know I would like to get to know him.

It wasn’t until the evening of April the thirteenth after Jack had walked me back to my stateroom when I had begun to feel things stirring inside me. I admired the man, I wanted to live like him. He had the life I had always wanted.

I had come to find him an interesting, caring, gentle person and of course he was very handsome in a very innocent way. He still is.

That night we had gazed at the stars and I am not afraid to admit I was curious as to what it would have been like for him to kiss me, just for a split second. What it would feel like to be kissed by this beautiful man. What it would feel like for him to have the same attraction which I strongly felt for him.

When Jack had told me the next day he was worried about my safety and my life in first class I had been stunned and overwhelmed but I was scared. Cal and my mother had sworn me away from Jack and I felt guilty for disobeying their orders but I also felt drawn to Jack for some strange reason. It was forbidden and I think part of me liked the fun. I had not done an adventurous thing in my life so sneaking away with Jack meant I felt free and safe. I felt like a young girl of my age should do, not with this burden of marriage to a man I didn’t love upon my shoulders.

As of now, I cannot simply begin to express the love I feel for my husband. Words could not begin to describe my feelings. As for my daughter, the product of our love, she is an absolute treasure. I look into her eyes and see my husband and every time I do I could weep tears of happiness.

As for tomorrow, I will meet one of Jacks friends from his childhood which will be nice. I have heard a lot about him.

Rose Dawson

Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin

The Country Inn was one of two only hotels in Chippewa County. It was a very small place but homely. It was a farming county with horse and carriages passing carrying hay every now and again. The roads were long, dirty and dusty with tracks imprinted into the dust. The roads were very long and stretched for what seemed like eternity.

The few people who Rose had met in the small amount of time she had been in Chippewa Falls were very friendly and the few who knew Jack from his childhood each told their tales of how much of a terror he was as a child. Most of the time the residents were very surprised to see the face of Jack Dawson in town again, they had expected to never see him again. They thought he would never return to these parts again especially with a wife in tow.

People still talked about his parents and their deaths, it just went to show what the people around these parts were like. They liked to gossip. Their stares were still filled with sympathy and judgment for him and one person in particular was happy to see Jack, Alfie Burton, an attractive, tall, dark man with large brown eyes, was ecstatic to see Jack again. His childhood best friend.

From the ages of five to fifteen they were inseparable until Jack had left in the summer of 1907.

They’d have a very happy childhood, mucking around together, playing football and fishing down by the river.

When Jack had begun to show a very good talent for drawing when he was just ten, it was Alfie who’d encouraged him to follow him dreams. Which was exactly what young Jack did when his parents had died in a house fire in the July of 1907, leaving him devastated.

Jack was then just a fifteen year old boy, but he decided to set out on a journey he would never forget. A journey to chase his dreams.

Packing the necessities in a small backpack, he had left there not planning to look back.

First he had ridden the railroad and headed to Monterey where he worked on a squid boat, he moved on from there after just two months and went out west to Santa Monica. He had managed to sell a few sketches to help him with money for a few weeks.

He had heard stories and seen pictures of Santa Monica’s beauty and atmosphere but now he was here, from an artists eye it was unbelievable.

The place was so alive with the pier, the roller coaster which he rode so many times he actually made himself ill, but he didn’t care. This was the life he had always wanted for himself.

He would ride horses on the beach and drink the cheap beer from the pub near the pier. Before he’d head out onto the pier and just gaze out to sea for hours at a time, just taking the scenery and the sea air. It was beautiful. He had always wanted to go out to sea, but he’d never even been on a ship. Perhaps it would be yet another one of his goals to achieve whilst making each day count. It was his motto and way of life since his parents passed away suddenly at a young age.

After seven months in Santa Monica, he found his grief eased gradually. He was no longer in pain and blaming himself for his parents death and he found he didn’t miss the place he once called his only home at all.

In February of 1908, sixteen year old Jack headed to Los Angeles and then Hollywood. There was always talk of how Hollywood was becoming the big city for the silent movies and its stars. So packing up his few belongings once again, Jack headed to Hollywood.

With its beaming lights and electric atmosphere, Hollywood certainly was all about the stars.

Jack even saw his first nickelodeon whilst in Hollywood. He saw a high class man kissing the hand of a very beautiful young woman and it would amuse him for years to come.

Jack was in awe of everything around him, although he didn’t see any stars of the moving pictures.

In June of 1908, Jack decided to head to Europe, when he’d saved enough money for a third class ticket aboard a ship. This again was another dream of Jack’s, just lazing on deck gazing at the stars, taking in the beautiful sea air and the unfamiliar surroundings. He had sketched people on deck and some had paid him but as for others he had refused to accept any money. He had always loved the sound of running water and the rushing, probably from the lake nearby his house in Chippewa Falls.

First he headed to Greece , explored Athens and the very ancient buildings. The world was a very inspiring place to Jack. He filled sketchbook after sketchbook with drawings of subjects and people he took an interest in.

Art was his first and foremost love and he thought that would never change. Money was tight and he could rarely scrape together enough money for a proper lunch or dinner.

Talk was that art was really beginning to bloom over in Paris. Jack had planned to head there someday, maybe make more money and become a famous artist someday.

Italy was Jack’s next stop in Europe.

Upon arriving, he felt at home at once. He really loved it there. He even found himself a steady job as a waiter at a small downtown café, working for an Italian family named the Di Rossi’s.

They weren’t the richest family, but the welcomed him with open arms, the whole family had never met an American before.

Mr. Di Rossi was the head of the household. He ruled his family with an iron rod and his three children couldn’t get away with anything.

His wife Penelope Rossi was a very attractive woman, with a long mane of thick black hair, chocolate brown eyes and olive skin, which all of her three children had inherited.

Stefan was twenty and he too worked at the café with his father and brother. Fabrizio was the middle child and had just left school and had begun to work at the café too. He and Jack were around the same age and found they both had a love of art and traveling. They became very good friends in the year which Jack stayed with the Di Rossi’s. When Fabrizio’s father died suddenly of a heart attack, it was his grieving family which took Jack in and gave him a bed to sleep and good evening meal.

Fabrizio’s younger sister Selma was just sixteen, she was a pretty little thing and took a very early interest in Jack.

When he wasn’t at work, Selma would hang out with him and Fabrizio and when then sometimes they would hang out alone. Selma would beg him to draw portraits of her and she would giggle and squeal with excitement when he presented the finished sketch to her.

On Jack’s eighteenth birthday, he shared his first ever kiss with Selma when they had taken a walk in the late evening. His heart had pounded and he had stuttered nervously afterwards. He grew fond of Selma but they both knew they couldn’t court because of her family, if they found out he’d be a dead man, and beside she’s always known of his dreams to visit Paris from the first day they met.

So after stealing a few more kisses, Jack decided it was time to move on to Paris in May of 1910, with his best friend Fabrizio in tow.

Leaving Selma behind had been a little harder than he had expected. He had feelings which he had never felt before. Selma had wept when he had kissed her goodbye.

Fabrizio kissed his ma and siblings goodbye as he and Jack headed into the horizon yet again, but this time he was not alone, he had company.

The two shared a passion for adventure and Fabrizio’s dream was to travel to America and become a millionaire. Whereas Jacks dream lied in Paris, the art capital of the world. And now finally he was finally going there.

To his disappointment, all the French seemed to only take an interest in cubism, but Jack felt this type of art just had no heart in it. Whereas Jack drew from the heart. For him it was all about living on the streets and putting the amazing city on paper.

Not many people took an interest in Jack’s art except a man in the local bar who offered a few times a generous amount for a portrait of himself and a very lovely woman named Amelie.

She was undeniably pretty, with long poker straight black hair and light brown eyes. She spoke fluently in French, knowing very little English. Her dresses were always very low cut showing an ample cleavage, she was obviously a very sensual woman despite only having one leg.

The man had always paid Jack very good money to not say anything about him sketching them but never told Jack why but he didn’t care he did as he was paid to do it put food on the table and shelter for a few nights.

One night when Jack had drank a few beers, Amelie offered Jack money to draw her. He agreed.

Upon arriving at the place he she called home. He noticed more attractive, sensual and provocatively dressed woman. Amelie lead Jack to her chambers, where she sat him down and slowly peeled her clothes off and begged for him to draw her naked. Jack at that point had never seen a woman fully naked and found himself feeling things he’d never felt before.

He agreed, blushing every time his eyes laid on the most intimate parts of her body. Upon finishing, she took a seat beside him and gently but unexpectedly kissed his lips. She took his hand in hers and gently brushed her lips against his knuckles sending tingles all the way through his body and causing things to stir he didn’t know how to control. She lowered his hand and guided it to her bare breast before leaning forth and kissing him again.

Feeling flustered, Jack pulled away and shyly excused himself whilst stuttering. After that night, Amelie made several more attempts to get Jack into bed. He was a very handsome young man and she was very sexually attracted to him.

But he was always a gentleman and had politely refused each time. Although he did find she had very beautiful hands and could draw them endlessly, he had quite a few sketched he’d planned to keep for memory of Amelie and her hands. She was a very attractive woman but Jack had plans to move on soon.

Paris had done wonders for Jack and his Italian friend Fabrizio.

They had grown to become very good friends during their time in Paris.

The best experience by far for Jack was seeing his favorite artist Monet through a keyhole. It had made him the happiest he’d even been that day.

In January of 1912, Jack had been taking a break from sketching in a park in the upper class side of Paris. He didn’t really like to come this way much, but he had dressed in the best clothes he owned and walked to the park. He needed the money as his was planning on leaving France soon, maybe for England.

Lighting a cigarette, Jack rested back against the bench he was sat on. The afternoon sun was strong and warm. It was dead this time of day, usually everyone was eating their dinner.

Taking another puff from his cigarette, Jack heard a very loud slam of a door. Standing immediately, he saw a very well dressed lady in a lilac tea dress run from a hotel building with fiery copper curls. This lady looked like an angel. She ran, obviously crying.

For just a moment, Jack thought of following her to see if she was alright but a dark haired man dressed formally in an obviously expensive suit followed her.

Picking up his art supplies, Jack immediately left the park. Wondering what on earth could be troubling the pretty redhead.

At the end of March 1912, Jack and Fabrizio had decided to move onto England.

He’d heard many good things about Britain, they attractions, the culture, the people.

London was one of the places he’d planned to visit. After saving up enough money to ride the train from Paris to London, Jack and Fabrizio packed up their belongings yet again and set out for the horizon once again.

Upon arriving in London, Jack had noticed a drastic change in the weather. The rain had poured down horridly until well into March when British springtime had began.

London had many famous sights including the Westminster Abbey where royal and rich people were usually married. Buckingham Palace, was a very large house where the royals lived. Big Ben, the huge clock which looked over the Houses of Parliament and the River Thames.

Jack would wake each morning from beneath the bridge he called his bed during the time he had been there and wonder around the streets endlessly. It was very different from America, the littlest thing inspired him. Each building, place and person was steeped in culture and history.

Towards the end of March 1912, the newspapers were going crazy about the new ocean liner the Titanic. It was the biggest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history. It was to set sail for New York on April the tenth and from the pictures Jack saw in the newspapers, it certainly was a beauty.

Fabrizio had joked that’s the ship he would sail to America on before becoming a millionaire.

England was a good experience for Jack, he learned a fair few things and met a few nice people. But he knew he could never settle there, he never felt at home.

Jack often pondered his next move. Spain? Egypt? Holland? All of the places appealed to him, he just didn’t have the money to survive on in London, let alone move on again.

London was a place mostly for rich people, Jack decided to move further south on the fifth of April 1912, to Southampton.

He and Fabrizio had decided to watch the Titanic as she would set off for her maiden voyage.

Jack couldn’t wait. This day for sure he knew would go down in history.

Southampton was a little less cultured than London.

The English weather continued to be pleasant through early April.

Fabrizio and Jack found shelter under a small bridge near a river, where they would wash each morning and evening. Their money was tighter than ever but life was good. He loved waking up in the morning even though it was a cold hard floor. He loved not knowing what was to happen that day, or who he would meet or what was lined up. He loved the mystery of life and he wondered what card he would get dealt next.

Jack took life as it come at it. He didn’t plan, he just wondered and drifted. It had been a hard five long years since his parents died.

Five years? It was just five years ago, Jack Dawson was just a young boy with a dream and now here he was in England of all places about to watch history go down as the biggest ocean liner in the world was about to set sail.

On the morning of April 10, 1912, Jack and Fabrizio had woken up around eight and washed before heading to the docks. People were already gathered around the docks edge. The Titanic in all her glory, stood proudly in the harbor. She certainly was beautiful. Jack could see now what all of the fuss was about. All the months of anticipation, the papers had made her sound fantastic and here she was larger than life and she was better than the press made her sound.

Settling in a small pub near the docks, Jack and Fabrizio found a spot near a window to sit with two Swedish men. After nodding their heads in acknowledgement, Jack immediately pulled out his sketchbook and began to draw her. The Swedish men were playing poker over a beer, Fabrizio joined in their play and minutes later so did Jack. The drawing he was so engrossed in was suddenly forgotten. The Swedes certainly were passionate players as they bet their third class Titanic tickets in the game. Jack also bet everything he had: five pounds and a few small pieces of French and Italian change.

Fabrizio had been mad, muttering Italian swear words but Jack laughed at him, he was confident he was to win those tickets. He was feeling lucky today, like it was to be the beginning of something new and amazing. But what if he did have the chance to go home? Jack worried slightly. Could he face Wisconsin again after five long years?

No he couldn’t. There was always New York, theatres were always hiring artists to draw posters for plays. Maybe he could do that for a while?

Jacks thoughts were interrupted by a loud beeping of a Renault car outside the window. Looking at the time on the pocket watch in the middle of the table, it was twenty to twelve. He watched the Renault car pull further into the docks and then stopped, a well dressed male chauffeur opened the door to the backseat of the Renault and held his hand out stiffly to a woman who took it gracefully and pulled herself out of the car. As she lifted her head, Jack thought he recognized her. But then he shook his head. She was obviously a very rich woman with the look of her clothes and the was she looked at wonder the ship was so calmly and as though it was just scrap of metal.

Jack then lit a cigarette and turned his attention back to his game of poker.

Minutes later, a smile appeared on Jacks face. He had a full house. Fabrizio revealed his cards, nothing. The two Swedes revealed theirs. Oh shit! Two pairs.

“I’m sorry Fabrizio” Jack turned to his friend, whose face fell. He began to mumble something madly in Italian.

“I’m sorry you’re not going to see your ma again for a long time” Jack spoke over Fabrizio. His face had a confused look. “Because we’re going to America. Full house boys.” Jack whooped, happily as Fabrizio began to collect all of their winnings and scrape them into his backpack.

Olaf stood and looked at Jack with contempt. He would be taking their tickets to board Titanic. He grabbed Jack roughly by the scruff of his neck and thought a moment about hitting him. Jack squinted his eyes, expecting a huge thump until Olaf turned his attention to his brother and knocked him from his chair.

Jack laughed before helping Fabrizio collect up their winnings. “I’m going home” Was all Jack repeated out loud. After five years he would return home on the Titanic. Luck was in for him.

The pub keeper reminded them the Titanic was due to leave in five minutes.

Grabbing their backpacks they ran for the gangway of the Titanic, making it just in time. Boarding the ship, Jack thought of just how lucky they were. If they could win tickets who knows that else luck may bring him when he returned home. Or even aboard the ship.

Chapter Fifteen
Stories