Fun Fact #4: Unsinkable Ship?
Though Titanic was branded well, being called "unsinkable" and the "ship of dreams," that still didn't make up for its lack of lifeboats. However, the White Star Line supplied the more than the minimum number of lifeboats needed by law. There were sixteen lifeboats with four collapsibles, enough for one-third of the passengers aboard. It wasn't until after the sinking that codes were changed, and now there has to be enough lifeboats for every passenger on the ship. Also taking in the fact that the ship was made of iron and held together by three million rivets, certainly not strong enough to withstand a collision, the so-called "water-tight" bulkheads only reached up to E deck, allowing water to spill over like it was a giant cup and into the next one. The Titanic could only stay afloat with three, even four, of the bulkheads full, but the iceberg had filled five. Even on her way out of Southampton, the Titanic almost collided with the New York, causing quite a spectacle on deck.
Chapter 3
Birthday Wishes
She found herself breathing heavily, her tears smearing her makeup. Before she knew it, she was in a frenzy again, tearing the dress apart. White cloth went everywhere, and she then knew what to do. Taking off her high-heeled shoes, she opened the door and ran.
For as long as I could remember, Jack has always told me everything. Never before has he ever hesitated to tell me something that's on his mind. Why was it so different now?
Since I was six, the hardest part about being friends with Jack was our age difference – he was three years older than me. I remember a romance novel I read once, where a lonely woman of society fell in love with the older – and uninterested – stableman. It was written by one of those liberal woman who are shocking the globe; now that I think back on it, it was a surprise that I wasn't caught reading it by my conservative mother.
I always thought a relationship with Jack would be something like that: My young woman naivity mixing in with my loneliness, throwing myself at an older man who was obviously uninterested in a relationship. How else could I describe it?
I scuffed my toe on the pavement, the pebble I was aiming at scuttling across the road as I entered the more reputable part of town. I shoved my hands deep in the pockets of my dress. I guess the reason why Jack and I became such close friends was because of our seclusion.
I got home that day soaked to the bone and covered in sand. I closed the door behind my as quietly as I could, then tiptoed across the plush carpet. I tried my best not to drip ocean water over the floor, but I was caught halfway across the hall by my mother.
Ruth DeWitt Bukater was very strict, as I have mentioned. She never liked the idea of children having fun. That's why I was scared of her expression when she saw my dress, dripping water all over the carpet, my feet tracking sand as well.
Mother sighed. "Rose, where have you been?"
I gulped. I couldn't lie, but I had to. For Jack's sake. I closed my eyes and hoped my acting skills would make it look as though I was tired. Taking a deep breath, I said, "I was so excited for my birthday festivities, that I thought I needed some fresh air, and decided to go to the beach and celebrate."
Mother glared at me. I knew she didn't believe me. I gave her a weak smile to convince her. She just shook her head, took my arm, and lectured me all the way up the stairs about how swimming in the ocean and playing on the beach was something a lady shouldn't do.
"But, Mother-"
"No buts! You will be staying in this room until tomorrow evening, when we have somewhere to go and get ready for. You understand, Rose? No sneaking out!"
I nodded, my lips pressed tightly together. "Yes, Mother."
I was left locked in my room that night.
...
July 15th, 1911
Rose,
Happy Upcoming 17th Birthday! I know you'd probably be at one of those long, boring formal parties, but that wouldn't stop me from writing this card and preparing your birthday surprise. I finally got upgraded to an apartment building instead of that old motel. The address is 2456 Rose Street. Visit me sometime. Come on over on July 22.
Your friend,
Jack
P.S. No hints!
I kept folding the piece of paper over and over again in my hands. It was on plain white stationary paper, yet its words held a lot more to me than its appearance.
I was in deep thought over Jack's behavior today. His actions still confused me. Blinking, I noticed that he had stared at me, and not the beautiful city view. I sighed frustratingly and stood up from my bed. I walked over to my vanity, where I unlocked the drawer at the very bottom on the left.
Opening it, I smiled. It had all of my memories with Jack in it. Pictures, some of his drawings, my own attempted drawings, and letters. I put the birthday card he wrote me in there, too, for safe keeping. I locked the drawer and put the key back around my neck, where it hung on a silver chain. I was afraid of losing it, or someone finding it, so I decided to keep it with me at all times.
I walked over to the window and opened the curtains. It was a starry night, and I sat on the soft loveseat that was positioned right in front of the window. Watching the stars and moon, I smiled at how they twinkled and glowed. That's when I saw a shooting star, and gasped in delight.
Putting my hands together, I went over what I wanted to wish for in my head. Look at myself! I thought. Seventeen today and still acting like a little girl. Looking back up at the sky, I smiled and whispered, "I wish for a way to get out of the house tomorrow."
Content, I left the curtain open, turned off the lights, and crawled into bed, thinking of what Jack's confession was in the water earlier that day.
...
"Jack, let's go down to the river today! My daddy says that now's a perfect time, since it's no longer overflowing." I had struggled earlier that day into an old dress I wouldn't mind ruining, and a pair of rubber boots. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail that I tied with my favorite red ribbon.
I took Jack's hand and excitedly pulled him to the door. "Come on, Jack, it will be fun!" I smiled big, showing all my teeth. It was something Jack found amusing and convincing.
Jack was eleven, and I had just turned eight. I had wanted to take him to the river since he was accepted in our family, but never had the chance to with all the formal parties I had to attend and all the time I've spent in the workshop with my father. I couldn't wait until I was actually old enough to hold a carving knife!
I was getting ready to pout when he took my arm instead and pulled me out the door, laughing. "Don't fuss, Rosie, I was just playing around with you." And so we headed off to the riverside.
When we got there, I was the first to dare myself into nearing the side of the river. It was muddy and slippery, but I did my best to not to fall in. Jack cautiously followed behind me. "What do you want to do now?" he asked me, and I smiled. "Do this!" I exclaimed, and before he knew it he was pushed in.
I laughed until my little face was cherry red. He appeared at the surface and chuckled along with me. I was snickering so much, I rarely had time to react to his hand on my ankle, and how I was only able to scream before I hit the cold water.
Surfacing, I coughed up water. "Jack!" I whined. "Why'd you do that?" Before he could answer, I reached to the back of my head and my eyes widened. My ribbon was gone! I now saw it floating away fast down the river. "My ribbon!" I screamed, and that's when Jack disappeared under the foaming waves.
Scared for my best friend, I waded out of the pool and looked for a sign of Jack's body under the current. When I didn't see anything, I began to cry. I lost my best friend for a stupid ribbon! I berated myself, but that was before I heard gasping breathes and dripping clothes on mud.
Turning around, I saw Jack. "Jack!" I exclaimed, running at him and throwing my arms around him. "I can't believe you did that!" We both smiled at each other, and he handed me my ribbon. "I knew that this one was your favorite," he said, breaking our hug to hand me it.
I smiled at it, but then realized that ribbons weren't important. "Oh, Jack!" I cried. "I almost lost you for this thing." I grinned guiltily and tied it back in my hair. "But on a brighter note," I said hopefully,"it's showed me that friendship is much more important." I showed my teeth in a weak smile and spread out my arms, content when he pulled me into a hug.
...
When I was twelve years old, I was working on a masterpiece of mine – an elegant swan made of the finest mahogany – when I decided a break would do me some good. I'd been feeling weird all day (like clamminess and a lack of energy) but I pushed it aside as the weird spring weather.
Jack was the one to hear my screams. He used his time when he wasn't on duty drawing. He was on the staircase talking with one of the other servants when his ears picked up my howl of horror. He gave a wide-eyed glance to the cleaning woman and bolted down the stairs, his fist pounding on the bathroom door. "Rose!" he cried worriedly. "Are you all right?"
I sniffled inside the room, staring at the red stuff in my underwear. I mumbled, "No… Can you fetch my mother?" My voice cracked and I sniffed again.
Ruth was the next person to appear at the door. She asked me with concern, "Rose, can you explain to me the situation?" Her and Jack anticipated my answer.
"Um…," they heard Rose's echoic voice through the bathroom door. Inside, Rose was blushing furiously, finally recalling her biologic studies. "I'm bleeding?"
Ruth shooed Jack away from the door and opened it, giving him a glare as she closed it behind her. She then turned around to face her growing daughter, whose toe was playing with the rug. "Shall I explain?" she asked in that bossy, mothering way of hers.
Rose's nose twitched and she shook her head.
On the way out I gave Jack a comforting smile that said, "Don't worry about me." Jack, on the other hand, had an inkling of what happened, and his mind knew exactly what would become of him.
I was led into my father's office. He rubbed my back soothingly as my mother told him that I had started my period.
"You know what that means, Charles," she said hesitantly, keeping her nose high in the air.
I blinked up at her. "What?"
Ruth sighed and patted her daughter's hand. "Rose, your father and I have been discussing this matter and when it will happen. I'm sorry I have to inform you that –"
"Ruth," Father interrupted, his eyes full of warmth. "Let me tell her."
My mind was burning with curiosity, but I didn't ask again. I stared into my father's eyes as he explained, "Rose, now that you're becoming a woman, your mother and I agreed that there should be no boys in the house."
My heart went cold, the blood sinking down to my feet. "W-what?" I stuttered, not fully comprehending the situation. "You mean…"
He nodded, and I felt like I wanted to cry. "I'm sorry, Rose, but Jack's going to be dismissed by the end of this week."
I stomped out of the room and searched for Jack. I almost ran into him when I rounded the corner. He was dusting a painting and table. He smiled at me, almost sadly, as if he knew exactly what I did.
"I heard what happened today," Jack said, sighing. "Your mother explained it all."
I reddened, embarrassed. "Why would she tell you that?" I asked.
"Because it's a warning to me that I should pack up." My heart sunk, realizing that my parents were being serious.
"You don't have to go!" I yelled unknowingly, clamping my hand over my mouth. Jack shushed me, and put his arms on my shoulders. "It's nothing bad, Rosie," he said. Tears began to fill my eyes again. "It just means you're growing up. But because you're growing up, it's no longer appropriate, as your mother puts it, for me to be in the house anymore."
I knew what he was talking about. I didn't have to explain it. "Don't leave me, Jack! I'll be all alone," I whimpered. The perfect, gossiping lips of the girls I went to school with burned in my mind, stirring bad memories of when she would come home from school crying with Jack to comfort her.
Jack sighed, not knowing what to say. "Look, I'm fifteen. Don't worry about me. I'm old enough now to live on my own."
I threw my arms around him and began to sob.
...
"Happy birthday, Jack!" I exclaimed happily, throwing my arms around him into a big hug. "You're now an official adult."
It was Jack's eighteenth birthday, and I had begged my mom to let me go shopping for a new dress for the occasion. She caved in, but tried to talk me out of it each time I tried on a different gown. I ignored her the whole time, including her complaints when I paid for a nice peach one, which was simple yet beautiful.
I smiled at him, big and wide, as we pulled apart. "Thanks, Rose," he said.
"Hey, you deserve it," I said.
"How's your dad?" he asked me, concerned.
My smile faltered. "Nothing much has changed."
"I'm sorry…"
"It's okay…"
There was an awkward silence between us. Jack, noticing my dress, decided to make a nice comment. "You look nice," he said, looking me up and down.
My large grin returned. "Thank you."
We stood there in a comfortable silence before I said, "It's such a nice party, Jack. You have great friends." The party was at Jack's friend's house, by the name of Rob. I met him when I got there, and tried to be nice when he complimented me about everything. I then escaped his flirting by saying I should find Jack.
"But only one of them is my best friend," Jack replied, and he winked.
I laughed. "It seems like everyone knows me when they don't. All I feel are the guys' eyes on me." I eyed my left and saw Rob smiling and staring at me while dancing with a girl. I looked away and said, "That's my point."
Jack laughed, weakly, though. Sighing, he said, "So, how's it been lately?"
"Hard. My mother's been cramming the weeks with dinners at rich people's places. She's trying to find me a 'suitable future husband,' but I doubt she's taking it seriously. I'm only fifteen, not old enough to marry."
Jack nodded his head, listening carefully to my story. Not knowing what else to say, I gave him my hand and asked, "Want to dance?"
He took it, bowed dramatically, and said in a fake British accent, "I would be honored, Miss Rose."
I giggled at his faux voice, and we ended up dancing the night away.
...
I woke up in the middle of the night, tears at the corners of my eyes. My mind swirled with the many memorable dreams I had experienced. Once my chest stopped heaving, I pulled myself up and contemplated the dreams – or would they be nightmares now?
Thinking of what Jack and I couldn't have made me realize how much I wanted him. I was no longer eight, or twelve, or fifteen. I wasn't that naïve anymore. How can I be, when I have things to worry about now, such as how I was old enough to marry?
Why did you have to leave, Jack? I thought, the delusion of my father's dying coughs echoing in my ears. My father's left me all alone.
