*Chapter 2*
Making Them See
Sure enough, several more passengers boarded at Cherbourg. Just as history would say. Just as Zipper had read so many times. Zipper raced to the other side of the ship.
Passengers filed down the hall. "Hello." An older woman greeted Zipper with a slight bow of her head. Zipper replied the gesture with a smile stretched across her young, beautiful face.
She continued to politely rush through the crowds. Until she spotted her. The middle-aged woman, with fiery red hair. Atop her head was a black feathered hat.
She was yelling at a steward. "Well I wasn't about to wait all day for ya, sonny." She handed him a bag. "Do ya think ya can manage?"
Zipper smiled. Thinking, 'That's what she said in the movie, am I in the movie? Or in history? Is this a mixture?' Her heart raced as she would meet her role-model. She had admired Molly for so long. She couldn't even remember, how many times she had stayed up all night reading her legends over and over again.
Zipper continued towards Molly Brown. And stood in the hallway, by the door to rooms: B-4/B-6. Which was Molly Brown's rooms. She knew that of course. Just like she knew everything, this truly was a dream come true.
Molly Brown slowly made her way to the suite. She stopped to greet several finely dressed, wealthy people. Finally she stood at her door.
"Say girl, I don't think I've seen you around before. I'm-" She started, holding out her hand to shake.
"Molly Brown, I know!" Zipper replied excitedly, taking her hand and shaking it with enthusiasm.
"Easy, girl. So who are you?" Molly asked. She waved down the hall. Zipper turned her gaze in that direction as well. John Jacob Astor stood with his wife, Madeline. They waved back to Molly. Then she turned her attention back to Zipper.
"I'm Michaela Rosenberg. But my friends call me Zipper." She answered proudly. She knew Molly would have to understand everything.
"Well, I'm a call ya Zip." She chuckled. "That's a cute name. Come on in, girl. I love to talk to new people."
Zipper smiled widely. God, this wasn't happening. She kept reassuring herself that it was all a dream. Everything was just a dream. But it was so realistic, it made her wonder.
She followed Molly into the suite. "Lordy, look at this place. Grand ain't she?" Molly said inspecting the room.
"Yeah, I know. It's so amazing. My room is on the other side." Zipper said. She stood in the doorway not sure of how to act. Oh, she had seen the movies. Read the books. She knew how to act like a first-class woman. But she felt so uncomfortable being here.
"Well, come on in here! Sit a spell!" Molly smiled.
So, she did. She seated herself, politely, in the chair across from Molly. Molly poured them both a glass of champagne. Zipper took hers reluctantly. She had drank before, but never much. Only the brandies before each concert. Never champagne.
She lifted the glass to her lips. The bitter-sweet liquid filled her mouth. Then she realized she was definitely in first-class. She laughed to herself, at the splendor of it. Here she was a punk-rocker, sipping champagne, with the Unsinkable Molly Brown. It was all so unthinkable.
"So, tell me about yourself. How old are ya?" Molly asked. Taking a big sip of the fine champagne.
"How old do you think I am?" Zipper asked teasingly.
Molly laughed a little. "Oh I don't know. I'll say twenty."
Zipper made a buzzer sound, "Wrong."
Molly and Zipper both laughed.
"I'm sixteen." She finally stated seriously.
"Good lord, are you traveling alone?" Molly asked.
"No, no. I'm with an escort. A body guard, if you will. That was hired by my father. I guess." She said, a little unsure. She wasn't sure about her dad. He was dead. Then it occurred to her. She wasn't herself any longer. She was a completely different person.
Zipper's face went paler then it already was. Fear swamped her. She was stuck here in someone else's life. But her name was Michaela Rosenberg. It was on her ticket. Why had she never seen it in the passengers lists? She surely would have recognized her own name.
"Girl, what has gotten into you?" Molly broke into her thoughts.
"N-nothing. Say, if I tell you something. Will you promise not to laugh. Or think I'm crazy?" She asked a little unsure of what she was doing.
"Sure thing, darling." Molly replied.
Zipper sat the crystal glass down on the table, then leaned back in her chair.
"Well, what is it?" Molly pressed.
"Okay. I'm just going to come right out and say it." Zipper took in a deep breath. "I'm from the year 2003. You'll go down in history as the Unsinkable Molly Brown. There will be several movies about the sinking of this great ship. One being James Cameron's interpretation of it in the year 1997. I'm stuck here. And I need help getting back to my time."
Molly sat back stunned. She was barely able to understand Zipper's words. They blurted forth so quickly. But she got the general idea of them. She was shocked. Of course she didn't believe a word of it. Then she did the thing that Zipper found insanely rude and inconsiderate.
She laughed. She started laughing so hard she almost cried. Zipper leaned forward. Angry. Then, she realized it did sound ridiculous what she had just told her.
"For one thing." Molly said through her laugher. "You couldn't possibly know anything about the year 2003. We'll all be dead by then. And another I do believe this ship would be very difficult to sink." Molly's laughter finally subsided.
"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you're right. Maybe, we will all be dead by that year. But you're wrong as well. I know that Titanic will sink." Zipper said, standing slowly. "Excuse me."
She left Molly's room, hurt and even more confused. She walked out onto the boat deck. Leaning over the rails again. When she saw him. Sitting there with his little leather binder and paper. Sketching a picture of a third-class man and his child.
Of course the man with the sketchbook was steerage as well. But she knew him. He didn't look identical to Leonardo DiCaprio. But so very close. It was Jack Dawson, she was sure of it.
"Jack!" She called down to him.
He looked up at her. Confusion covered his handsome, boyish face. Why was a first-class woman speaking to him? And how did she know his name?
Zipper held up her hand, telling him to stay there. She raced back into the first class halls. And quickly made her way to the steerage deck.
She had been walking faster than a lady should. But she didn't care. She wanted to talk to Jack so badly.
She ran into someone. Knocking the other person and herself to the hard wood deck.
"I'm so sorry." She apologized to the person. The man stood, then extended his hand to help her up.
"It's no problem, Miss." He lifted her to her feet.
Her eyes met his. She couldn't find any words to say. She felt as though she was looking into his soul. And she was liking it.
He had the same stare as she. They stood there for a long moment. Looking at each other. His hand still gripping hers.
Was this the 'chemistry' the 'sparks' that she had always imagined. The feeling she always thought she would feel when she met her soul mate. She didn't know.
Finally he shook his head. Clearing her eyes from his mind. He laughed a little.
"Maybe, you should be a bit more careful." He said, smiling.
That smile made her heart skip a beat. He was so very handsome. She quickly assessed him. He wore a black uniform. He was an officer she quickly realized. And when she got to thinking straight again. She knew exactly who he was, as he told her.
"I'm the fifth officer. Harold Lowe." He kissed the back of her hand out of respect for her class.
"I know." She stated absently. Falling into those eyes again. "I'm Michaela Rosenberg."
"Well, Michaela. Pleasure meeting you." He smiled.
"And you." She said, her voice barely a whisper.
He turned and walked away, heading off to his duties she knew.
She stood there a moment longer. She had always admired him, but now that she had met him in person, things were utterly changed.
Then she remembered Jack. She quickly took up her pace again. And ran the distance of the deck between them. Finally she reached him.
"Well yer a unlikely person to be seein' here." An Irish man with a cigarette said looking at her. "I'm Tommy Ryan." He held out his hand.
She shook it, then nodded. "I know. And Fabrizio, am I right?" She asked the man seated beside Jack.
He looked completely dumbstruck, then he nodded. She smiled. Satisfied, that she knew everyone. She would eventually make them all see. See that she was from the future. And she knew each and every one of them.
"So how do you know me?" Jack spoke up. Looking at her, he had closed his leather binder.
"A movie." She answered nonchalantly.
He raised his eyebrows questioning her. Then his attention left her eyes and went behind her. To the upper-class deck.
Zipper turned around. To spot a very familiar woman.
"That's Rose." She said.
Jack continued to stare up at the red-haired beauty. She was first-class as well. From the movie. It was then, that Zipper decided. She was stuck between what was fiction and what was reality.
"Forget it, boyo. You'd as like have a flock of angels fly out o' yer arse as get next to the likes o' her." Tommy calmly stated, when he saw the subject of Jack's attention.
"Oh, don't say that." Zipper scolded Tommy. "Jack, be down here. Over there on the deck benches, tonight. You'll get to meet her."
She turned and walked away. Leaving Tommy, Fabri, and Jack very confused.
"Who was that?" Fabrizio asked.
Jack shrugged. He looked back up to the first-class deck. Now a man stood with Rose. They looked as though they were arguing.
"Do you think I should do it?" Jack asked his friends.
"Forget it. She's just trying to make a jackass out o' you." Tommy laughed.
Jack nodded. "Maybe." He couldn't get the image of Rose to leave his thoughts.
He didn't know what the other girl was up to, or who she was. But he desperately wanted to meet this Rose. It was then, that he decided to do as the other first-class lady had said. And be on the bench that night.
