Chapter Ten
"Jack." He was nudged slightly, "Jack. Wake up." It didn't sound like Rose's voice. It sounded like... Fabrizio? Jack's eyes popped open and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils. He squinted into the darkness. He moved slightly only to realize he was laying on the hard ground. That's when his eyes began adjusting and he saw Fabrizio sitting up beside him. They were lying on the side of a dirt road, in the grass. It was dark. Jack ran his hands through his blonde hair, his eyes darting everywhere, trying to guess where he was and what time it was. "Jack." His head now snapped to see Fabrizio.
"Fa- Fabrizio?" Jack was utterly shocked. "Is that you?" Jack sat all the way up now. "Where have you been... I- I mean... how did you survive!? I don't know where you went, Fabrizio! You vanished!"
"You left me." Fabrizio said, coldly.
"No." Jack's eyes were wide, "I didn't. I- I would never do that. You're my best friend."
"You left me for her."
"No. I- I was only making sure Rose survived. You know me, 'Brizio. I can't leave somebody alone who I know is going to die!" Jack stuttered.
"Well, you left me and you shoulda known I was going to die." Fabrizio stood now, dusting his pants off, "I've never even been on a goddamn ship and you expect me to survive it sinking? And completely alone?"
"But... T- Tommy." Jack said from the ground.
"Tommy's dead, Jack." Fabrizio grabbed his backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. "And you should be, too." Jack shot to his feet.
"Fabrizio, please." Jack said, ruffling his hair and taking a deep breath, "I didn't know what was happening. The ship was sinking so fast. I couldn't find you. It was complete chaos." The sun began breaking just across the flat field. "Where are we?" Jack's blue eyes scanned the distance. There was absolutely nothing around him. Fabrizio looked towards the sun now, shielding his eyes.
"Jack." Fabrizio looked back at him now. "Go on." Fabrizio set his hands on Jack's shoulders, dropping his backpack in the process. "You were like a brother to me."
...
Jack's eyes flew open. He almost shot up, but Rose's arm was flung across his chest and her head was nuzzled into his neck. He turned his head slowly to see the sun beginning to rise just outside their closed windows. Jack's chest rose heavily and unevenly. He brought his free hand up to his sweaty forehead, slowly massaging his temple and exhaling as quietly as possible.
"Mmm... Jack?" Rose murmered sleepily. She lifted her head a bit but it was clear to Jack she was not ready to wake up. She rolled over on her side. Jack smiled lightly, gently playing with her curls. His stomach was beginning to settle again. He couldn't tell if that was a nightmare or a dream. He wasn't sure if Fabrizio really was dead. Jack began getting out of bed, "Jack...?" Rose said groggily.
"Sh," Jack leaned across the bed, "I'll be back. Get your beauty rest." Rose smiled in her sleep while Jack kissed her forehead, put his shoes on, and slipped out of the room.
...
New York City, New York
Cal swung his legs over the side of his Waldorf-Astoria bed. He tied a silk robe sash over and rubbing his eyes, entered the sitting room. He was startled, however, when he saw somebody sitting in one of the fine fabric chairs, a mug of deep black coffee in his hands. The steam rose from it and passed the man's face. He was staring intently at Cal, who was clad in silk pajamas, a silk robe, and fluffy slippers with W-A monogrammed onto them.
"How did you get in here?" Cal asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"The front desk man gave me a key." The man held the brass key up, throwing it at him. Cal narrowly caught him. Cal shot him a nasty look before dropping the key into his robe pocket.
"Well, what do you want?"
"When did you plan to tell me, Caledon?"
"Tell you what?"
The man rose, taking a deep gulp of his coffee and then setting it on the deep wood side table in between the two fine fabric chairs. "Maybe, telling me, the ship sank. Telegramming me as soon as you got to port and letting your own father know, he just lost a lot of money because of the sinking of this ship." Nathan shook his head, rubbing his hands through hair. "Where's Rose?"
"She's gone." Cal said, but stuttered quickly. "She- she didn't survive."
"What?" Nathan looked absolutely flabberghasted.
"That's- that's why I didn't call." Cal told him, "I've been mourning the loss of Rose. Ruth has already departed back for Philidelphia. I stayed here a bit longer to be close to the port poor Rose should have arrived at. The poor girl just couldn't withstand the freezing temperatures out in the Atlantic." Crocodile tears sprung to Cal's eyes and he lowered his head, using his hand as a sheild between him and his father, "She died in my arms. We had to put her in the water. We were all trying to survive." Cal glanced towards his father who was still digesting everything.
"Where's the Heart of the Ocean?" Nathan finally asked.
"The... the necklace?" Cal asked slowly.
"Yes, the damn necklace we bought for your engagement to Rose!" Nathan said, impatiently.
"Oh... the... the necklace." Cal stared off into the distance. He thought back to the night on the Titanic. He swung off his overcoat and put it on Rose, shoving the flannel blanket she had draped over her into Jack's arms. "The necklace... was in the coat." He whispered, his eyes now wide.
"Caledon, where is that necklace?"
"It went down with the ship." Cal replied, "It was in my safe, which I could not save."
"Well, gather your things, Caledon." Nathan reached for his mug again, "We have a train to Harrisburg."
"What for?" Cal asked as his father drank his coffee.
"I am going to the jewelery dealer I bought the necklace from to claim some money back on it," Nathan explained, "And then we will catch a train back to Pittsburgh." Cal stood there for a moment, "Get moving! The train leaves at 7:30!"
...
Jack walked into the front area of the inn. The man at the front desk looked rather bored as he doodled absently on a piece of paper. Jack approached the front desk and cleared his throat. The man immediately perked up. "Hi. Do you have a phone I could use by any chance?" Jack asked. The man leaned over, pulling up a shiney black rotary dial phone. He picked the receiver up. "Waldorf-Astoria Hotel please." The phone began ringing as it was connected.
"Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, this is Stephen speaking. How may I help you?"
"Hi, yes, I'm calling about your survivors list for the RMS Titanic." Jack said, "I was wondering if you could check a name for me."
"Yes, sir, certainly. One moment." There was shifting on the other end as the phone was set down. A few moments later there was shuffling. "Name please?"
"Fabrizio De Rossi." Jack replied, the blood coursing heavily through his ears. There was silence for what felt like forever.
"No, sir, I'm sorry that name is not appearing on the list." Jack closed his eyes for a moment, "Sir, are you still there, sir?"
"Y- yes." Jack replied after a second, "Thank you for looking." Jack slowly hung the phone up. He felt completely numb inside. His best friend, Fabrizio, the man he travelled endlessly through Europe with, was dead. The man at the front desk glanced over at Jack.
"Is your friend on the list?" He asked. Jack looked over at him. His eyes had been previously glued to the shiny black phone. "Well, I guess not..." The man muttered, "Guess you woulda been celebrating that he was alive, huh? I'm sorry. Were you on the Titanic?"
"Yes," Jack nodded. "My wife and I both were."
...
When Rose opened her eyes, it was much lighter outside than it was when Jack had left. Jack was sitting at the nearby desk though, bent over, drawing it seemed. Rose sat up on her elbow. "Jack?" She said, gently. He didn't move. She clambered out of bed, her bare feet padding across the wood flooring. Jack's silence drew her near him, she had to touch him. Her nightgown flittered after her until her hands were pressed into his shoulder blades. She slowly peered over his shoulders to see Jack sketching a photo of him and Fabrizio sitting down on a cobblestone road against a brick wall. "Oh, Jack, this is beautiful." Rose smiled.
"He's dead, Rose." Jack set his pencil down, "Fabrizio is dead."
"Jack..." Rose gently kissed his temple, masssaging his back gently, "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"He was my best friend. And now he's gone." Jack picked his fresh drawing up.
"It gets easier." Rose told him.
"How do you know?" Jack looked up at her.
"When my father died, I was very conflicted." Rose said, slowly. "My mother didn't seem sad, but she acted it. She wore the customary black with the lacey cloth to cover her stricken face." Rose shrugged heavily, sighing now, "But I remember thinking, I didn't know my father well. Why, he never he even held me once in my entire life. The only time he talked to me was to scold me. But suddenly he was gone and the library always remained dark. I felt very sad that my father had died. He had died a painful death, I knew that much. But it felt weird knowing only a day ago he was breathing and then within 24 hours had completely vacated his body. I was very sad for him. I felt upset to my stomach. But it got easier to accept after awhile and my mother stopped wearing black after a few weeks and things returned to normal. The first initial wave of grief hurts the most, but slowly it dulls and stops interferring with your thoughts." Rose looked towards the window and then back at Jack, who was digesting.
"You're right." Jack finally declared. "It hurts and I miss him and I know he suffered, but he's at peace now." Rose smiled gently at him.
"Exactly." Rose combed through his hair lighly while he curled his arms around her and seated her in his lap. "I know losing such a great friend is hard, but I promise, things will get better. The whole ship situation is stressful to even think about. So much and so many lost at sea. It was a horrific accident and we are lucky to be alive. Let's count our blessings there."
Jack nipped at her neck, "Always the optimist." Jack murmered into her neck. Rose laughed and fell into him for a deep hug.
...
Philidelphia, Pennsylvania
Ruth stood before the tall iron gates of her estate. She peered grimly through the gate at her house, that was beautiful, large, luxuious, and powerful as it sat on a small hill near the top of the well to-do neighbourhood she lived in. She folded her hands before her, sighing slowly in the process. Ruth looked over her shoulders at all the other large, but not as nice, gleaming mansions of the neighbourhood. Ruth pushed the somewhat creaky gate opened and began making her way up the path to her house awaiting her.
She pushed the door open and spotted a maid, Trixie, she believed. Her hair was done up in a curly tight brown bun. She immediately curtsied when she saw Ruth. Ruth, however, didn't pay her any mind. Ruth slid her gloves off, absently dropping them in Trixie's awaiting hands.
"Tea, ma'am?"
"Yes." Ruth said, glancing all around her house in complete awe, as if she had never been in it before. "I will be in the sitting room." The maid curtsied again and disappeared quickly. Ruth began down the long hall towards the sitting room. She walked slowly, her heels echoing throughout the quiet and empty house. She stopped to look at an old portrait of her husband, John DeWitt Bukkater. Her hand gently grazed the glass that withheld his picture. She continued walking and once again stopped at a portrait of 13 year old Rose. Her hair was curlier than it was now. She was beaming into the camera, a large flappy sun hat perched on her head. She was wearing a thin strapped dress and the bushes behind her were blooming with roses. Ruth gently took the picture off the wall, examining it as she entered the sitting room and seated herself near a large window that overlooked the town of Philidelphia.
Ruth tried to imagine back to the moment this was taken. But her mind failed her. Ruth couldn't even remember who took the picture. Certainly not her or John. John was probably too sick at this point to even be outside with the young Rose. And Ruth never went out to watch Rose as she ran around with her adventurous mind.
"Here is your tea, ma'am." Trixie had appeared suddenly by Ruth, giving her a fright. Ruth pressed her hand to her throbbing chest. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I did not mean to startle you." Ruth held the picture back out, "Would you like me to rehang this picture?" Trixie asked as Ruth took her saucer and tea cup into her hands. "Oh, young Rose. She was so precious." Trixie smiled pleasantly at the picture. She suddenly perked up, though. "Ma'am, where is Rose?"
Ruth sipped her tea and glanced out the window, swallowing at a leisurely pace. She then turned her head towards Trixie who gripped the picture tightly, "Rose is not coming back." Trixie placed her hand over her mouth.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am." Trixie said, quickly and airly, "I... I did not know." Quickly, Trixie disappeared from the room, leaving Ruth to her steaming tea.