Chapter Fifty-Two

July 6th, 1912
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin

"Fuck!" Jack cursed. The couple stood outside the bank. Jack was still holding the mysterious birth certificate in his hand, a cigarette burning in his mouth, "Just... what the fuck!" Jack shook his head, rubbing his hands through his unruly blond hair, "Does this make any sense to you?!" Jack spun to Rose who had the rest of the Safety Deposit Box documents tucked under her arm.

"No, I don't understand." Rose shook her head, "You grew up an only child."

"Nobody ever thought to tell me that I have a goddamn brother?" Jack was angry now. He paced back and forth. "Marcus James Dawson. He's got my dad's name. It's gotta be my fuckin' brother. He's barely five years older than me. Where the fuck was he?!" Jack stomped his cigarette out and lit a fresh one. "It's got my parents names on it and everything, Rose! Why?"

"I... I'm not sure," Rose sighed, "Is there anybody you could turn to about this?"

"No, of course not." Jack exhaled cigarette smoke. He took another long drag. "Unless..."

"Unless what?" Rose perked up to this.

"If my neighbor Miss Cindy is still livin' down there, she may know something. She's lived next to my parents forever. Besides, she would hear about my parents having a kid in such a small town like this." Jack gave a backhanded clap to the document, holding his cigarette between his lips, "That's it. Miss Cindy has to know. Come on." Jack gestured for Rose to follow him.

...

Down the dirt path towards Jack's home the couple walked. It was much more bearable to walk in daylight, Jack discovered. Last night, his fear was creating an unimaginable dark and twisty road. A road Jack was sure he'd be swallowed whole up into. Jack paused to stomp his cigarette out. The fields were wide and open. Rose enjoyed being surrounded by basically nothing. The breeze that ripped across the field was pleasant and felt good running through her curls.

"There's her house," Jack pointed to a two story red house with a wrap around porch. It was on the left side of the road. "Over there is where my house was." The charred ground was still visible. Jim Dawson's shed stood lonely and slightly crooked from years of the wind on it. Jack jammed his hands into his pockets and stared at it for a moment, "At least nobody bought our land." Jack commented, feeling a deep sorrowful sensation richochet through his body.

Jack and Rose climbed up the steps and onto the front porch. Jack raised his hand and gave two hearty bangs to the rickety screen door. The moments waiting for somebody to answer the door were painful to Jack. It reminded him of the last time he stood on this porch. Tear stained cheeks and shakey body. A young woman pushed the door open. She had brown hair pulled back into a bun. She blinked blankly when she saw Jack and Rose standing on the porch.

"Hi there," She said, "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Jack nodded, "Does a Cindy Cartwright still live here?"

"Why yes, she's my mother."

"Is she available?"

Cindy's daughter looked between the couple before looking back to Jack, "Who are you?"

"Jack Dawson. Your mother should remember me."

"Come in. She's on the back porch." The woman held the screen door open, eyeing the couple with her bright green eyes. Upon entering, Jack recognized everything. Barely anything had changed. Jack looked around, a bit dazed by deja vu. "Momma," The woman called out onto the porch, "There's a man named Jack Dawson here to see you."

"Did you grow up with her?" Rose whispered, leaning near Jack.

"Nope. I've never seen her before either."

"She wants you two out there with her." The daughter told them, holding the door open. Jack and Rose stepped onto the back porch. There in a wicker chair sat a very elderly woman. She had white hair done up in a bun similar to her daughters. She had dim brown hairs and wrinkly skin. A quilt she was working on was draped over her lap.

"Jack Dawson, is that you?" She asked in somewhat of a shakey voice.

"Yes, ma'am, it is." Jack replied with a smirk.

"My god, how long has it been?" Cindy held her hand out to him. He graciously took it, patting the top of it gently. "It's been nearly a decade, Jack Dawson. Where have you been?"

"Travelling, ma'am."

"Elizabeth, get these two a chair!" Cindy called, "And who is this fine gem?"

"This is my wife, Rose."

"Your wife!" A huge smile came across Cindy's face, "Why, I remember when you were just a young boy always up to some trick and here you are showing me your beautiful wife! This is just so wonderful." Elizabeth pushed two more wicker chairs up and then disappeared back into the house, probably to continue making lunch.

"Miss Cindy, I had a very serious question to ask you." Jack stared intently at the birth certificate in his hand. Marcus James Dawson.

"Anything, dear."

"Did my parents... have another son before me?" Jack looked straight at her. Cindy licked her lips and lowered the quilt she was making, trying to find the words.

"How did you find out?" Was all she asked.

"I found his birth certificate in my safety deposit box." Jack held it out to her. She examined it.

"Yes, Jack. Your parents did give birth to your full blooded brother years before you."

Jack closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his forehead. Rose saw the distress he was in. It must have been shocking news to figure out one had flesh and blood out there somewhere, especially after he thought he lost all of it. Jack lifted his head and rest it in the palm of his hand.

"What happened to him? Why wasn't he around."

"Oh, darling, your parents couldn't keep Marcus." Cindy said as she handed the birth certificate to him. "Your mother was just fifteen years old when she had him. Your father was sixteen. Neither were finished with any kind of schooling. They were simply too young. Your grandparents would not allow them to keep him. They wanted to, but they couldn't."

"Where did they send him?" Jack began to imagine horrors of orphanages while he grew up loved. He wouldn't be able to deal with that feeling of guilt burdened on him.

"To your Aunt Melinda."

"You have a living Aunt Melinda?" Rose cocked an eyebrow up, "Why didn't you go live with her?" Jack sighed and sat back in his seat.

"I tried," Jack shrugged, "I got in contact with her after my parents died and told her I needed a home. She told me she couldn't take me in. Maybe she couldn't because she was still raising my brother at the time... and guarding the secret for my mom."

"She's your mom's sister?"

"Yeah. She's a little bit older, but only by two years." Jack rubbed his hands through his hair and looked back to Cindy, "I can't believe this. Why wouldn't my parents just tell me I had an older brother?"

"It's tough, sweetheart." Cindy replied, "How do you explain to your child they have a sibling that they aren't taking care of."

"But why did they send him to my Aunt Melinda," Jack shook his head, "She must have been just as young herself when she adopted Marcus."

"She was willing, sweetheart."

"Where does your Aunt Melinda live?" Rose asked, intrigued. "Maybe we could contact her to find Marcus."

"Last I spoke with her she was living down in Waco, Texas." Jack told Rose.

"Texas," Rose echoed. "I've never been there."

"From what I've heard of it, it's ass-backwards." Jack scoffed. "I'll get in contact with her." Rose smiled to this, "Thank you for your time, Miss Cindy." He reached out and took her hand, "You answered a lot of questions for me." Cindy placed her hand atop Jack's calloused one.

"It was my pleasure, Jack Dawson. It's such a joy to see you so successful despite your tragedies. Never let your burdens weigh you down. Always allow them to lift you up. With this gal by your side, I know she won't let you sink."

"She's the only thing keeping me floating."