Chapter Thirty One: Help! by The Beatles
The summer had quickly come and gone. And before they knew it, Jack and Rose were starting their senior year.
"It's crazy," said Rose. "This year is going to be easy. And then we'll be done with school in like, April."
"You say that now," said Jack. "And then you'll be pulling all-nighters again."
Rose laughed. "You know me too well."
They walked to school for the first day, after picking up coffee. They went to all of their morning classes before lunch, and right after was English.
"I'm excited for English," said Rose. "I understand English. Nothing in English can mess me up."
Jack smiled and kissed her cheek. They walked into the classroom, and Rose was immediately taken aback.
Jack must have noticed, because he wrapped his arm around her waist. "Hey," he said. "You okay?"
Rose finally came back to her senses and looked at him. She nodded unconvincingly. She and Jack sat in the back of the room, and Jack tried to figure out what had happened in the last thirty seconds.
Rose took out a piece of paper and started doodling. "What's going on?" Jack asked again.
"Nothing," said Rose, with a little whine. She looked back down, and Jack got the message. She wanted to be left alone.
Rose slowly looked up and looked at the teacher again, examining her. She recognized her immediately. The hair, eyes, and skin was Rose's. Rose knew who she was, but Rose was sure the teacher didn't recognize her.
Then Rose realized the truth would come out during attendance. She needed to get out of this class. To transfer… now. Rose quickly gathered her stuff. She turned to Jack. "I need to leave. Please don't follow me."
"Wait, Rose-" Jack began, but Rose had stood up.
Somehow, the teacher didn't notice Rose walk out of the classes.
J: Rose. Talk to me.
J: What's going on?
R: I can't talk right now. Everything's okay, but I just can't talk right now.
Jack sighed. What had happened?
The bell rang. "Okay, students, please take your seats." She picked up the marker and wrote her name on the board. Jack almost had a heart attack when he saw the name.
Ms. Dewitt.
Now Jack understood why Rose had left. She knew it was her mother, and she had to get out of there. Now he understood.
Jack wanted to leave. He wanted to run away with her and make her feel better, but he couldn't. He anxiously watched as the teacher read the names off of the attendance sheet.
"Steve Barling?"
"Here."
"Jack Dawson?"
Answer now, Jack. "Here."
"Rose-" Jack watched anxiously as the teacher stopped at the name. She took a deep breath. "Rose Dewitt Bukater?"
There was no answer. "She left early today," said Jack. "She wasn't feeling well."
Ms. Dewitt looked at Jack and nodded. "Thank you."
•••
Rose left school and went back to the home. She packed a little bag and took the subway to Penn Station. She got on an Amtrak train and went to Philadelphia.
She finally got to Philadelphia, and she got in a cab. She went to the cemetery and sat down next to her father's grave.
Hot tears ran down Rose's cheeks. "I miss you," she cried. "I don't know how it's been two years without you."
Rose wiped her eyes, but she continued to cry. "What the hell do I do now? How do I do this?" She sat down and pulled her knees up to her chest. "I need you."
She sat there for a few more minutes before picking herself up and walking out of the cemetery. She made it through the entry gates before falling onto her knees and crying.
All of a sudden, Rose felt warm, supportive, familiar arms around her. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Jack looking down at her. She stood up and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She cried sadly for a few minutes before calming down.
Jack held her in his arms and stroked her cheek. "So here's the deal," he said calmly. "When something happens, we don't run. We talk to each other. That's the way this works."
Rose nodded and cried again. "I'm sorry," she said. "I should tell you-"
"I know," said Jack.
"You do?" Rose asked.
Jack nodded. "She wrote her name on the board."
"Right," said Rose. "Does she know about me?"
"I think so," said Jack. "She took attendance, and she looked like she knew when she called your name. I said that you weren't feeling well."
"Thanks," said Rose. She rubbed her eyes. "I just don't know what to do."
"Do you want to transfer out of the class?" Jack asked. "This is a major conflict of interest. You must be allowed to transfer."
Rose sighed. "I tried to transfer, all of the other English classes were full."
"And if you just drop the class altogether?" Jack asked.
"Then I don't have the credits I need to graduate," said Rose. She looked at him tearfully. "What the hell do I do?"
Jack sat down on a bench, and Rose sat down next to him. "Listen, you've been through far worse. You're stronger than this. You can do this."
Rose nodded. "Do I talk to her? Do we just ignore the elephant in the room?"
Jack sighed and shrugged. "I really don't know," said Jack. "Do you want that?"
"No," said Rose. "She left me. I don't ever want to see her again."
"But since you do have to see her again, do you want to talk to her?" Jack asked. "Your life improved after she left, you said it yourself. Maybe she did it for your own good?"
"I don't really care! If that's the reason, then say goodbye," said Rose. "Do something! Don't just walk out on your eight year old daughter."
"I know, baby," said Jack. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. "What do you want to do?"
Rose wiped her eyes, and looked back into the cemetery then back at Jack. "Let's go home."
They got in a cab and started driving back to the train station, when Rose told the driver to stop the car.
Jack looked at her. "What's going on?"
Rose pointed out the window. "This was my house."
"Really?"
She nodded. "Yeah." She looked out the window and remembered all of the memories and everything that had taken place there. And now… it didn't feel the same. To Rose, it looked like a normal victorian style family home.
"Which was your room?" Jack asked.
Rose pointed to the top left window. "I loved my room. It was beautiful." Rose's eyes drifted downward to the front yard, where there was a for sale sign. It also said "open house."
"Do you want to go in?" Jack asked.
Rose nodded. "Sort of."
They went into the house hand in hand. "Hi," said the real estate agent. "Welcome to the open house."
"Thanks," said Rose.
"Are you looking to buy, or…"
"Actually, my father owned this house, so I just wanted to take a look around," said Rose.
"Oh, you're Rose," said the real estate agent. "We kept your room exactly the way it was. It's very rare that we're given a house where a bedroom is in perfect condition."
Rose smiled. "Thanks," she said. "We're just going to take a look around."
Jack took her hand. "It's beautiful," he said.
"I agree," said Rose. "It's hard to believe another family is going to be living here."
"Do you want to move back here?" Jack asked.
Rose shook her head. "I love New York. I want to stay there."
"Okay," said Jack. They continued walking around. They arrived in a bedroom. It had a beautiful white canopy bed with beautiful white chairs and throw pillows and expensive furniture. "This is your room?" Jack asked.
"Yeah," said Rose. She walked around looking at everything. "It feels smaller than it used to, like I outgrew it."
Jack smiled and watched her continue walking around. She opened the closet (it was obviously empty), but at the top was a box. "I forgot about this."
"What is it?" Jack asked.
Rose uncovered the box and looked through it. "Pictures of Ruth," she said.
"Your mom?" Jack asked.
"She's my mother, but she's not my mom," said Rose. It was obvious she was angry, but she was still staying calm. She picked up a photo. It was Rose, with little red pigtails, sitting with her parents. Rose shook her head and put them back in the box. "I don't want to look at this again."
"You should still take it," said Jack. "You might want it someday."
"I don't think I will," said Rose. "But I'll take it anyway." Rose took a deep breath and sighed. She wiped her tears and fanned her face. "Let's get out of here."