Jack's eyes widened in amazement as he took in the scene outside the White Star Line Offices; an angry crowd spilled from inside the building and seemed to pour out into the streets. The people were in a state of despair, screaming and shouting demands.
I guess I'm not the only one with a few words to say to the White Star Line, he thought with a bitter smile. A few White Star Line employees were trying to form some sort of line, but the people were not complying; it looked like total chaos.
Cars and carriages alike congested the streets from all directions. The sound of horns blended with the cries from the grief stricken crowd formed a concerto of sorrow wailing above them like a dark symphony.
"Things look like they could turn into mass hysteria at any moment," Redfield commented as he viewed the crowd. He glanced over at Jack; the young man was biting his nails as he scanned the lines that seemed to wrap around the building twice. "I brought the list of names of your friends with me; once I find a parking space, I'll help you look for information on them."
Redfield weaved through traffic and somehow managed to pull the car up to the curb. "You can get out here, and I'll meet up with you later."
"Where should we meet? I doubt I'll be able to find you once I'm inside."
The doctor pointed to a corner, "Over there, in say two… no, better make that three hours."
"Alright," Jack said quickly as he hopped out of the car.
"Jack be cautious; you've not fully recuperated yet and—"
"I'll be careful, I promise." Jack smiled, looking over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowd.
Rose did not want to get into the boat, not without Jack. The image of him staring at her like an angel from the heavens as she descended in the lifeboat caused her eyes to fill with tears. Jack's eyes held her tenderly and he whispered, "I love you, Rose."
It tore her heart to shreds seeing him like that. What if Cal would not allow Jack to board the other lifeboat…no, she could not be without Jack; she had to rush to his side.
Rose jumped from the lifeboat; her only thoughts were to be in Jack's arms again, to hold him again, feel his kisses. Her heart pounded as she raced through the crowd to reach him at the other end of the deck, but something was holding her back. Her feet felt like lead and each step became labored; the deck seemed to expand until it seemed impossible to reach the other side. "Jack! Jack!" she screamed in desperation.
Rose saw Jack force his way through the crowd, his hand stretched out to her. But the more he advanced toward her, the further away he became. "No!" she cried as she held her hand out, "Jack!" He disappeared in the crowd, and she could no longer see him.
She looked around frantically, but she couldn't find him in the crowd. She could hear his voice calling madly, "Rose! I'm over here!"
"Where are you? Jack! I can't find you!"
Someone whirled her around; she found herself staring into Cal's cold gaze. "You will never see him again Rose…Never!" He began to drag her into the opposite direction.
"No!" she screamed, struggling to break free. "Jack!"
"Rose! Don't leave me, Rose…come back!" Jack's voice sounded desperate. She tried madly to see his face in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"I won't leave you, Jack!" she cried out, trying frantically to break free of Cal.
"Why can't you just stay dead, Dawson?" Cal took out his gun and aimed it into the crowd; a shot rang out, and the crowd parted to reveal the injured party. Jack! Cal had shot him; Jack fell to his knees, his hand clawing the air desperately to reach her. She heard herself scream, "No!"
"No!" Rose screamed as she sat up in bed. She was disoriented from the nightmare and didn't know where she was at first. But it didn't take her long to guess. She was at the Hockley Estate.
Still shaking from her dream, she threw the covers off her and began to dress. She had to get out of here. She felt the front of her bodice; the diamond was still lying there safely between her breasts where she had placed it. She had found the diamond while on board Carpathia… she had almost forgotten about it until now.
Jack's feet ached from standing in this forsaken room for over two hours. All around him people shouted in several languages as they pushed and shoved; it reminded him of when he and Rose were making their way to the back of the ship.
The room was filled from wall to wall with people. In front of him, he could barely see the counters and a couple of White Star agents trying to assist people. To his left people seemed to be looking at some sort of display… photos perhaps? He couldn't tell from this distance. On his right, he saw people riffle through papers.
There were no signs clearly marking what was where; things were so hectic. Sucking in his breath, he continued to press on through the crowd and make his way to the front counter. He felt the air crushed out of his lungs as he pushed his way through the swarm of people.
The crowd was merciless and brutally tried to shove him back, "Excuse me," Jack said irritably and continued his tread to the front, pushing past the throng of people. One man shoved him so hard that he fell back into the crowd; he felt people step on his stomach, arms, and legs as they continued their trek to the counter rather than offer assistance.
Great! I survive the sinking of Titanic, only to be trampled to death on the floor of the White Star Line Offices! How ironic is that? Jack thought sarcastically.
He scrambled up from the floor with some difficulty and continued to squeeze his way to the front of the line. It seemed he would never reach it. Desperation and fear shone in his eyes; he was so close to finding out about Rose and his friends.
"You're next!" The White Star attendant behind the counter shouted angrily in Jack's direction. The man was tall and thin with an equally thin mustache and slicked back hair. Jack was stunned at first; amazed that his turn had finally come.
When Jack did not reply immediately, the man sighed in annoyance. "Yeah you, what do you want?"
"A list please." Jack said with urgency, regaining his thoughts.
A piece of paper was shoved in his hand, "Next!"
Immediately, Jack was shoved out of the way. "Wait!" he cried out, "Is this the most current list? Where can I find what they did with the wounded survivors? What about those you couldn't identify?"
He was ignored.
Jack repeated his question and was ignored again. He asked a third time, this time a little louder. The thin man turned with a disgusted look on his face, his brown eyes looking at Jack with annoyance. "I heard you the first time. You need to go to the left side for photos of the unidentified dead as well as survivors. As for finding where the injured were taken, why don't you stop being such a lazy oaf and read the piece of paper I just gave you and stop pestering me! I'm a very busy man! Next!"
Jack glared at the attendant before he looked at the list. It was difficult to read it in this room with the constant shoving, but he steadied himself against the tide of the crowd as his eyes made their way down the list. He glanced by Helga's name, and a small smile appeared momentarily on his face; he searched for Rose's name on the survivor side of the list and began to panic when he did not see it listed.
Steady Jack… she's listed... you're just nervous… that's all… look again and you'll see her name…Jack tried to reassure himself. He carefully scanned the current list of survivors again. Nothing. She was not listed; Jack's breath became labored as his eyes filled with tears. No!… No! No! No! No! Please No!
He tried to brace himself before reading the other side of the list; the side that listed the deceased. His stomach tightened, and he started to shake as he began to read the names on the list.
Bert Cartmell DECEASED
Thomas Ryan DECEASED
DECEASED
DECEASED
The list went on and on; it seemed practically every third class passenger was DECEASED. "It's so unfair…" Jack whispered through clenched teeth.
Rose marched down the hallway of the Hockley New York Estate with determination. The effect of the serum had finally worn off and she had regained her resolve. Cal was storming after her, his face red from anger, "Where do you think you're going?"
Rose ignored him and continued to make her way to the front door.
"Rose! Where will you go! What? To the streets? It was bad enough when you wanted to follow that pauper of a sewer rat, Jack, but now…" he stopped because her icy gaze on him made him freeze; her blue-green eyes flashed with anger as they bore right through him.
"You could never be half the gentleman Jack Dawson was, Caledon Hockley!" she hissed.
An overwhelming rage built up inside Cal. He felt himself lose control of his senses, of all rationale; with a brutal blow, he hit her hard across the face with the back of his hand. "You little slut! I won't tolerate you leaving me! Even if the son of a bitch is dead! Dead you hear me! Dead! Our relationship is far, far from over! Do you understand!" he spat.
Rose was stunned at first but regained composure quickly. She lifted her hand to touch the area that Cal had hit her; it stung pretty badly. Before she could react, she felt another blow to her face, this one sending her to the floor.
Tears welled in her eyes; she looked up at Cal, her eyes like daggers. Slowly, she got up to her feet and lifted her hand to slap him back, but Cal caught her arm in a steel like grip. She struggled to get free.
"Listen to me, Rose! You will marry me in four months time, or suffer the consequences. I love you, don't you see that?" he shook her as he shouted.
"Unhand me!" she replied.
Cal pulled her close, "No Rose, I will never let you go." He pressed himself against her and forcefully kissed her. She bit his lip as hard as she could.
"How dare you!" she tried to slap him again and failed.
Cal backed away wiping the blood from his lip. "Oh, you will be my wife, make no mistake about it, Rose. Who else is going to want a lunatic for a wife?" he circled her like a shark as he spoke.
She tilted her head in confusion as he continued, "Well, facts are you were ranting like a madwoman about how Jack is alive. Rose…. the doctor suggested I put you in an institution for your own good…"
"You…wouldn't… dare…" she almost whispered.
"If you agree to marry me, you have nothing to worry about." He smiled coldly, "If you don't marry me by our appointed August date, then you leave me no choice. I'll have you put into an asylum…I've already begun the paperwork…all it takes is one phone call."
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words would come out. Cal continued, "Don't make me do it, Rose…" he threatened.
Rose looked at him with such abhorrence that it tore him apart inside. "I am, however, not without mercy." He took out his wallet and placed some money in her hand. "Here, go buy some clothes and any other necessities you may need. Our engagement party is next week, so you may want to buy something a little more elegant. Father moved the festivities here instead of having us travel to Philadelphia, considering the ordeal we've all been through."
She flung the money back in his face. "I don't need your money. I can manage just fine without any of your help."
He sighed as he picked up the bills that lay scattered on the floor. "You really should take it. Your mother's illness may prevent you from enjoying any such luxuries for long." He replaced the money in her hand.
"My mother is ill?" she asked with alarm, quickly forgetting about the money argument. She recalled her mother on board the Carpathia, she looked to be in good health…was this another of Cal's lies? She would have to see her mother to make that judgment.
"Quite. The doctor onboard Carpathia confessed to me that it is rather serious…"
"What? Where is she? In a hospital?" Rose had not seen her mother since their initial conversation on Carpathia. They had reconciled, and her mother had told her that she would respect her decision not to return with Cal. It doesn't make any sense… last thing mother told me was that she would come back to speak with me after she told Cal that I didn't want to go back to him... odd that mother should fall ill just as Cal hears that I don't want to return to him... it's too coincidental. Rose bit her lower lip in worry. If her mother was ill, she was almost certain that Cal had something to do with it.
"No, no… she is staying here. She is not in at the moment…I believe she went out with Molly Brown again this afternoon; at least that's what the maid told me." He shrugged, "Oh, don't worry sweetpea; I'm having my own physician look at her this evening to get a second opinion. Now take that worried look off your face." He reached over to touch her cheek; she slapped his hand away.
Cal's jaw tightened. "You'll warm up to me eventually… it may take some… time… but you will. I'll go tell the chauffer to ready the car to take you into town." He paused before continuing. "I wish you to be back by dinner. I would really hate to see you locked up in some mental institution, and then who would take care of your mother?"
Rose choked back on her tears; she was trapped and she knew it. Oh Jack… Jack… how I wish you were alive...
After Jack calmed down a bit, he decided to go to the display on the left wall and see the photos. He still held hope that Rose, Cora, and Fabrizio would be among the unidentified survivors who had been taken to the hospital.
Jack began to trudge his way once more through the crowd when he felt someone grab him by the arm, "You!" a voice shouted in his ear.
Jack whirled around to see who was holding him back. It was the steward from the Titanic; the one who told Rose and him that they would have to pay for the broken door. The steward stood beside a representative from the White Star Line.
The representative wore an expensive suit adorned with a gold watch and chain. He was short, robust, and his face wore a sour expression. His eyes were small, and they persecuted Jack even before he spoke a word.
Jack pulled his arm out of the man's grip. "He owes for that door! Him and that lady he was with!" the steward said looking for approval from the White Star representative.
"If you broke that door, son, you are going to have to pay for it." The representative said dryly.
Jack looked at both of them with a mixture of disbelief and anger, "What?" He poked the representative in the chest. "Listen, your ship cost me everything I own! I almost died on your so-called unsinkable ship! How dare you–"
Redfield appeared at Jack's side holding several forms in his hand. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked, directing his question to the steward and the representative.
The steward sputtered, "He and his lady friend broke White Star Line property and now he refuses to pay for it!"
Jack said with exasperation, "The ship was sinking, and Rose and I were trapped!"
"Still, you did destroy the door before the ship sank and that makes you liable." The executive said, eyeing Jack with distaste.
"I don't believe this!"
Redfield spoke slowly, in a very condescending tone to the representative. "Did your company not compromise the safety of all passengers by not having enough lifeboats! Now, I will hear no more of this door nonsense. This young man has been through enough; be thankful he doesn't take the company for every penny they have!" Angrily, he waved the claim forms in front of their faces.
The executive was speechless; he stared at Redfield with his mouth agape. The doctor escorted Jack away, "Yes, that's what I thought." Redfield said tartly over his shoulder.
When they were out of earshot, Jack said, "Thank you, I can't believe they wanted me to pay for that door."
"Idiots! All of them!" Redfield muttered.
"What are those?" Jack nodded to the papers Redfield held.
The doctor smiled, "Claim forms. Granted these cheap bastards probably won't give you much, but at least it will be something."
"There's one more place I want to check before I go." Jack pointed to the left side of the room. "They have a display of photos of the survivors and deceased. I want to take a look at them."
"All right then."
Jack and Redfield wedged their way through the crowd toward the counter. Jack tried to force his way to the display, but kept getting pushed back whenever he managed to squeeze through to look at the pictures. Finally, he shoved his way through, "Excuse me!" he said with annoyance.
Anxious eyes scanned the pictures pinned up before them, in hopes of finding a loved one. Jack was no different; he searched with his eyes for pictures of Rose, Cora, Fabrizio…
Jack grinned happily as his eyes set on a picture of Fabrizio; underneath the picture it read that he had been taken to a nearby hospital. He turned around to tell the doctor and Redfield jotted the address on a piece of paper.
Jack continued to search; he was a little more hopeful now. After a few minutes, he had still not come across a picture of Rose. Fear seized his heart again and dread blanketed his thoughts. Where is she? Why is she not listed?
Desperately, he continued to sort through photos. The next picture he came across ripped his heart out. It was the picture of a little girl; her tiny frozen body clinging to debris in the sea. The little girl was Cora…her face carried a look of peace, but Jack remembered how cold the water was…she must have suffered greatly before she died.
Jack could not hold his tears back and began to cry heavily. Redfield placed a hand on his shoulder, "What is it, Jack? Did you find Rose?"
"C…C… Cora…" Jack caressed the picture of the little girl with his fingertips.
Redfield found himself moved to tears at the sight of the picture. "I'm sorry, Jack." His voice shook.
"Oh, Cora…" Jack pawed at her picture. Rage built inside him. It was so unfair! She was just a child! Why did she have to suffer? Why? He pounded his fist against the wall.
"Jack…" Redfield began but couldn't find the proper words to continue.
Jack ripped the picture from the display and stormed over to the representative. He was behind a counter now, swarmed with people, but Jack pushed his way through, "Damn you and your fucking unsinkable ship!" he flung the picture of Cora at the representative's face.
Jack continued, tears streaming down his face, "You bastards! You are responsible for her death! Damn you!" he sobbed hysterically.
The representative eyed the picture of the little girl. "I gather you knew this child?" he asked with reserve.
It took all of Jack's will not to swing at the man. How arrogant he seemed! "Yes, I knew her!" he spat. "Her name is…" he paused, swallowing back his tears, "was Cora Cartmell! Damn you! Damn you all to hell! Why did she have to suffer like this? Why! Was it not women and children into the life boats first!" he shouted, slamming his fist against the counter.
The executive said with indifference, "I apologize for your loss, sir. We are picking up the funeral costs for the steerage—"
Jack lost it at that moment and lunged at the representative, grabbing him by the collar. "Is that why Cora had to die? 'Cause she was a third class passenger? Does the fact that she was just a child not even move your heart? You are soulless!" Jack released him; sending the man stumbling backwards.
As Jack left, hordes of eyes glared coldly at the representative as they caught sight of the photograph of the little girl floating on the debris. The picture left quite an impression on others that came across it, sending most into tears. Murmurs of: "Why were the children not accounted for?" "How could anyone allow this to happen?" "Oh dear lord, she's just a baby!" filled the ears of the representative. He brushed his suit off and instructed a worker to replace the photo on the display board with Cora's name. Then he looked back at the crowd who showed him no mercy as they dug into him with accusations and allegations
Heavy traffic had kept the roads backed up for miles, and Rose arrived at the White Star Line offices later than she expected. The chauffeur dropped her off in front of the building, and tugging on one of her gloves, she instructed him to pick her up in two hours.
Rose had read in the paper that they were going to send The MacKay-Bennett to pick up the bodies from the sea. She knew that Jack had drifted under the waters of the Atlantic, but it was reported that many of the bodies had resurfaced, and she could not bear to think of Jack left to a grave in Halifax. No, she would ensure that he have a proper burial in the States. Therefore, she had come to fill out the papers so that his body would be brought back to the States.
Rose pushed her way through the crowd, and found that most were willing to let her pass. She turned to a woman standing in line, "Excuse me, I was just wondering if you knew which line was which?"
The woman answered politely, "Seems no one really knows what is going on. But I believe the center line is for a current list of survivors; over to the left is a photo display of the people who were left unidentified; I'm not sure what the line on the right is for."
"Thank you." Rose considered a moment; she knew the chances of Jack surviving were very slim. However, she swore she had heard his voice on Carpathia, and that inspired hope. She also knew that there was little hope in finding his name on any list since he won his ticket and was not registered…but she hoped against hope that perhaps somehow he had lived, and if he had that someone on Carpathia had written down his name... and that his name would be on this list.
She paused only momentarily before making her way up the center line. Oh, I know it's hopeless to believe that he survived… but I need to check. Only then will I know for certain if I was imagining Jack's voice when I was on Carpathia… only then will I know if I had wished for him to be alive so badly that my mind concocted the whole thing.
The memory of her last moments with Jack flashed before her as she pushed her way through the crowd. Jack had looked so peaceful; she had almost not wanted to wake him, but the boat had come and they had to make their way to it before it passed them by. She had shaken him a little harder each time… but he didn't respond… Jack was not asleep…the acknowledgement that he was gone had torn her apart… her heart was encased in razor sharp blades that cut her soul to shreds…at that moment nothing mattered… not the boat …not the cold… not her family… not her life.
Rose had wanted to give up… to remain there beside him… he was all that mattered… but she had promised him that she would go on… why did he make her promise? Why? It had taken great strength to let him go, but she did…kissing his hand, she had vowed that she would see him again in whatever afterlife awaited … she could swear that she heard him say that their love knew no time and he would wait for her there, until she returned.
She had watched as the Atlantic claimed her only love… watched as the murky waters embraced him…until she could not see him anymore.
Rose was crying by the time she made her way to the counter; the thin man asked sharply, "How may I help you Miss?"
"A list," she wept.
The man behind the counter handed her a list and offered her the following information, "You'll need to go to the left side for photos of the unidentified dead as well as survivors, Miss. If you need to find where the injured were taken, the information is on the piece of paper I just gave you."
Rose veered right because the crowd was not so concentrated on that side. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself before looking at the list. Deep down inside, she still hoped Jack survived, someway… somehow; taking a deep breath, she glanced at the list.
No listing of Jack Dawson.
She crumpled the paper instinctively in one hand and hung her head. Overwhelmed once more with grief, she began to cry frantically. The sounds around her seemed to fade into the background. She had been so certain that she had heard Jack's voice call out to her… so certain.
