MAKING HIS OWN LUCK
Calvin Hockley was a man of principles: strong, conservative principles. And it was these principles that the man had to thank for everything he had by his late twenties: his money, the first-class ticket in his pocket, and the beautiful fiancé at his side. He was set to inherit both his father's thriving steel mill in Pittsburg, and all of his father's money, and to be married to Rose DeWittbakater upon their return to America. Yes, by April of 1912, Calvin Hockley's future seemed as solid as the great ramp that carried him, Rose, and her mother Ruth, aboard the grandest and safest ocean liner in the world.
It was partly because of Cal's exceptionally good mood on the first day aboard the Titanic that he waved away many of the initial warning signs—not that the ship was going to sink, but that Rose's respect for him (Calvin had given up the foolish expectation that Rose would ever really love him) was waning; in the end, this proved far more damaging to him than the loss of any diamond.
He knew, for instance, that he should have said something when Rose brought out those ridiculous Picasso pieces. Rose already knew he found them a waste of money, and too abstract for his own taste, but what Rose failed to understand was that the paintings were a waste of money because this Spanish fellow was one of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of starving artists who struggled daily to stay above the poverty line, with nothing to set him apart from the others. What was more, there was no real guarantee that these paintings would be of any real value later, and should Rose ever need to sell them. (Cal knew about the DeWittbakaters' lack of finances, though he kept it quiet at Ruth's request.) Given Rose's situation, it seemed common sense to invest in art from the Hudson River School or some other widely respected style that had some definite resale value. The girl didn't have money enough to go splurging on every canvas that caught her eye—not with what she spent on clothes.
The same with Rose's references to Freud, and her constant sarcasm. Cal realized too late that he should have said something comforting, been a bit more sensitive to Rose's feelings, done something to try and break her out of her melancholy humor while he still had the upper hand. But these signs he waved away also, seeing as Mr. Andrews and Mrs. Brown seemed to find it all amusing.
Finally on the first night, Calvin Hockley was hit over the head by an occurrence he couldn't simply wave away. This came in the form of Jack Dawson. Cal was pulled away from his evening meal by a hysterical constable, who pulled him to the stern of the ship, where a young blonde ruffian was lying collapsed on Rose, with both his shoes and jacket tossed aside. Rose was shaking, clearly terrified, and Cal didn't need Rose's accusatory point in the boy's direction to surmise what must have happened. He rushed immediately to Rose, pulled her up and enveloped her in a warm blanket and a hug, but she refused to go inside. Not wanting another argument, Cal turned his attention from Rose to the boy.
Circumstances aside, Calvin Hockley had plenty of reasons to loathe Jack Dawson from the moment he laid eyes on him. The boy was handsome, there was no point denying it, but Jack's were not the sort of precise good looks obtained by painstaking hours in front of the mirror, like Cal's. Jack's looks were obtained by sheer luck: a scruffy, devil-may-care sort of look that Cal both envied and despised. This combined with the boy's lazy swagger and, as far as Cal could tell, an utter lack of manners or comprehension of his proper place, demoted Jack Dawson in Calvin Hockley's eyes before the former had spoken a word. It was people like Jack Dawson that made Calvin's life very hard, for Jack was clearly like the rest of the poor third-class immigrants on this ship: A person who shirked his responsibilities, and spent the rest of his life mooching off of hardworking people like Cal, and the charities set up by churches and other organizations. It was not fair! If you were poor, surely you deserved it, for you were paying the penalty for your own laziness; everyone was born into American society with the same potential, and it was your own fault if you did not put it to good use. And of course, when people like Mr. Dawson refused to bare their own crosses, it became the job of responsible people like Cal to pick up the slack.
Rose proceeded to make up some ridiculous story about leaning over to see the propellers, claiming that if it were not for Jack, she would have fallen into the North Atlantic. Cal of course didn't believe the details of the story, but if Rose did not want to go into the details of what had truly happened because she was overly frightened, there was no sense in forcing her to do so, which might lead to more unsightly hysterics. Thus, Cal remained silent as Jack answered, "Yeah that was pretty much it." To the constable's request to confirm the story, while intensely relieved he would never have to see the man again—after all, that was what different class sections were for.
Cal motioned to Lovejoy "I think a twenty should do it." He said, wanting to get everyone back to their proper places so that the whole matter could be forgotten more quickly. Rose, however, was not satisfied. A cheeky, sarcastic grin spread across her face as she said "Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?"
Rose was displeased—again. Cal had always been used to women who expected only the very finest in life, and were very displeased when they didn't receive it, but Rose DeWitbukatter had made displeasure an art form: Pay for her clothing, and she wouldn't even look at you over an enormous pile of hat boxes, consent to buying every canvas she claimed was "great art", no matter what the price tag, and she would merely insist her taste was superior, buy her a first-class ticket aboard the grandest ship in the world and all you got was a snide comparison to the Mauritania. Offer the woman a diamond the size of your fist and…well, he couldn't actually say what the reaction was yet, but if the current pattern continued, he had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't go well. Cal doubted that even the moon could satisfy, let alone impress, Rose. And the mortifying part was that he kept trying, kept looking for gifts that might finally win him a smile or even a "Thank you" from his future wife. Cal had never had much of a way with words or romantic gestures, so he was forced to woo Rose and the world the only way he knew how: via his checkbook. It was all one last desperate attempt to convince Rose that being his wife, though not the true love she undoubtedly wanted, had to rank somewhere above a fate worse than death.
Cal tried again, trying to flash a grin that equaled Roes', turned to the boy, and suggested "Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening and regal our group with your heroic tale?" Dawson took a moment to consider, pulling out a cigarette as he did so, and replied, "Sure, count me in." And so Rose was pleased—for the moment, anyway.
Cal could not help but spend his spare time the next day happily imagining the various ways in which Jack Dawson was bound to make a fool of himself at dinner. There was no question in Cal's mind that to place the boy in a dinner jacket at a first class party would be similar to placing a goldfish on dry land. Cal relished the idea of seeing the man who had dared to rape Rose get what was coming to him—which made things all the worse when Jack took to first class like a fish to water.
Even in the days that followed, Cal marveled at the fact that Mr. Dawson had been able, not only to survive the evening, but to make such a favorable impression on every woman at the table, with the exception of Ruth: by the end of the evening she was one of the few people who still had her head on straight. Jack had to have done it with help; there was no question of that. Cal thought he'd seen Mrs. Brown giving him a pointer or two, and he was sure he'd seen that dinner jacket on her son before.
Even under the stern but subtle questioning of Ruth, Dawson seemed to do remarkably well: when Ruth asked him about the accommodations in steerage (a question both she and Cal were sure would startle the boy into a faux paux) he replied with a cheery smile, "The best I've seen ma'm, hardly any rats." Jack soon had everyone eating from his hand—an outside observer would have thought the ruffian was one of them!
Cal might have been able to brush off the evening, and finally wash his hands of Jack Dawson, had he not noticed that Rose seemed to be warming to him. The masses were of course free to worship whoever they wanted, and if the new money wanted to delight in Dawson's antics, there was nothing Cal could do to stop them; but Cal had thought that his own fiancé would not have been so easily taken in, especially given the very questionable circumstances of their first meeting. That she would find someone so common to be attractive was absurd! But Cal nevertheless felt uneasy and sent Lovejoy to keep an eye on Rose. When the manservant returned with reports of the party below deck, it only served to launch Cal into full-on jealousy rather than alleviate his fears.
This, Cal realized later, was another crucial turning point: What he should have done was realize that Rose would be Rose, let her have her little fling to get it out of her system, and then proceed with business as usual. What he did instead of course was lose control, and this was always a mistake, but at the same time, who could blame him? he was suddenly insecure and felt stings of jealousy toward Jack Dawson of all people! What could Jack give Rose that Cal could not provide tenfold? What could that poor, lazy, rouge possibly have that Cal did not? (And here he could not help but be angry with Rose,) why in the world did she find this man worthy of her happiness and approval? This man, who Cal had known for two days, had managed to gain Rose's respect, trust, and (dare he say it?) love! Jack Dawson had done in two days what Calvin Hockley had been trying to do for two years! It was for this more than anything that Cal loathed Jack Dawson, and was angry with Rose for not seeing things Cal's way.
To Calvin's credit, there was a conscience working beneath the blind jealousy and anger that fueled his screams and destruction during the fight, but it took a while for him to come back to his senses, and by then the damage was done. What was left of Calvin's time on the Titanic would be spent in a battle to win Rose back, and he knew he would have to make a devastating first move if he had any hope of succeeding.
That devastating first move was to present the Heart of the Ocean to Rose. True, it was a bit earlier than he had expected to do so, (he'd been saving it for the engagement party), but desperate times called for desperate measures. Cal did notice with immense satisfaction that Rose seemed to marvel at the beauty of the gem, lost for words; for a moment Cal even allowed himself to think that all was not lost, that all Rose had needed was a reminder of his love for her to smooth things over, and set everything on its proper course again. He should have known he was wrong: with Rose, it was never that easy.
Satisfied for the moment, Cal allowed himself to go back to his usual leisurely routine, but his happiness was short-lived. The diamond apparently had not been enough to make Rose happy, and so she had set off—yet again, to find other forms of entertainment. Jack Dawson was all too willing to assist her, a fact made clear by the portrait of Rose, completely nude with the exception of the diamond, that he found in his safe. This mockery, Cal decided, was the final straw! To add insult to injury, Rose had included a note. He could almost hear the mockery in her voice as he read: "Darling—now you can keep us both in your safe. Rose."
He nearly ripped the picture to shreds in his anger, but stopped himself: He'd done that before where Rose was concerned, and it had only served to get him into more trouble. No, he would have to be clever this time. If Rose and Jack wanted to play their little game, he would have to find a way to play by their rules for a while. Cal gave the matter a few moments of careful planning, then picked up the diamond and smiled at Lovejoy. "I've got a better idea." Cal chuckled, and proceeded to explain his plan: Cal would wait in the room while Lovejoy tracked down the lovers, (this would be no real difficulty, as Lovejoy had been a cop and rather enjoyed high-speed chases), then proceed to take the two of them back up to the room, planting the diamond on the boy in the process. Rose might be able to ignore the boy's class and manners (such as they were), but Cal doubted even Rose would be able to explain away relations with a felon. Yes, Cal knew the plan was dishonest, and his stomach gave an unpleasant twinge as he waited in the room, readying himself for the performance of a lifetime. He didn't like having to stoop this low, would sleep fitfully at night for doing so, but he had no other option: Jack had gotten where he was by playing against the rules, it was time for Cal to do the same.