Chapter four-Josephine my flying machine
Disclaimer-check chapter three :-P
"Come Josephine in my flying machine and it's up she goes! Up she goes! In the air she goes! Where? There she goes . . ." Jack Dawson's words trailed off into nothingness. "you still miss her, don't you jack?" Jack raised himself up into a sitting position, glancing at his new friend Mark sadly. "Every day." he mumbled. It seemed like years had passed since he'd last seen Rose, he still felt anger every time the thought of her once gain living a trapped life with Cal came to him, but more often than not he felt sadness, that wasn't the way Rose was supposed to live. "You need to move on," said Mark, lighting up a cigarette and taking a large puff, "heck you even got yourself thrown in jail over that gal." Jack didn't answer, he remembered how Cal had got him arrested when he had tried to free Rose, if it hadn't been for Molly Brown finding out and freeing him, he'd probably still be there, rotting. Mark sighed, and sat beside his friend. "ah, you have to move on mate, no point I having a broken heart the rest of yer life." "but you don't understand!" yelled Jack suddenly angry, "there killing her, she's going to die if she doesn't break free, it's not right . . ." he stoped, unable to find the right words to explain just how unfair life was for Rose.
Jack had continued his life just as he had before the titanic. Though he hadn't moved around as much, yet, he had continued sleeping under bridges and drawing portraits, trying to make ends meet. But he felt so incomplete. Ever since the titanic, he had lost everything, his best friend, Frabitizo, and other good mate, Tommy, and of course Rose-his Rose. He knew he would have managed life without Tommy and Frabitzo, though he missed them both dearly, he could make new friends, it was easy for him, but Rose, there would never be another Rose. . .
He watched from where he sat the busy people moving around, families chatting, all oblivious to his misery. His eye caught sight of a small girl walking across the street with her mother and father. She looked so simular to the little girl Cora, but she was gone too, only five years old and she was gone, her whole family had drowned.
"Rose, what have they done with you?" he whispered to himself, and then, as if by magic, she appeared. Dressed in a beautiful blue gown, she was walking, arm in arm with Cal, a huge smile plastered across her face. Jack sat there, memorised, she looked happy, chatting away with a woman dressed just as splendidly next to her and Cal, all three seemed so happy. Jack swallowed a lump that had formed in the back of his throat, he was just about to get to his feet when a woman approached him. "excuse me," she said, sounding rather nervous "could you please draw a portrait of my son and daughter?" she motioned to a well dress boy of about eight, and girl of about 5. "yes mad' am," she Jack quickly, he turned his gaze away from her, trying to find Rose, but she was gone. With a sinking feeling quickly taking over him, he began to draw.
"Here you are," he said, handing the finished drawing to the woman, "that will be 50 cents please." The woman handed it to him, smiling. "Why, this is amazing work," she said, smiling at him. "And um, well, I don't suppose you have had any training?" she eyed his clothes. "no, mad' am." He answered. She smiled, "what did you say your name was?" "I didn't, Jack Dawson." He held out his hand, and reluctantly she shook it. "have you, I mean, could I look at some of your other works?" she asked timidly. "sure," said Jack handing her his book. The lady sat down beside him, flipping through all his pictures. "these are terrific Jack." She studied each one intently. "this woman, may I ask, who is she? She is the subject of every picture." She motioned to one of the many pictures of Rose. It was Jack favourite picture, a memory he'd perfectly preserved. It was of him and Rose on the railing of the Titanic, Rose's arms stretched out wide as she flew across the ocean, and he was standing beside her, whispering soft words into her ear. Above it was written. "Come Josephine in my flying machine and it's up she goes! Up she goes!" "that," said Jack, "is a very special person." The lady eyed him somewhat suspiciously. "where did you meet her?" Jack sighed, "we met on the Titanic." "really?" the lady raised her eyebrows in surprise, before asking, "what was her name? and how did you know her?" Jack stayed quiet for a little while, wondering why so many questions, but he supposed the woman was just interested. He smiled when he remembered the question Rose had asked, when she had first seen his work. "her name is Rose," he said quietly, "we met when she-well she was kinda unhappy and that's how we met." He finished lamely, knowing he hadn't made any sense, but he thought Rose would want to have kept her near jump experience secret. The lady frowned, knowing that he was hiding something, but she overlooked it. "Well, thankyou Jack." She said, smiling sweetly, then she turned to her children. "Come along Mathew, Jasmine."
"Tell us about the titanic," said one of Cal's wealthy friends, "it must have been an awful experience." "you can bet it was," thought Rose, "but not because it sank." She stood beside Cal, trying hard to keep a happy smile on her face, so no person would realise the true horror that she might be feeling within, and listened as Cal made himself seem like a hero. "well, Rose got separated from Ruth and I, so when I eventually did find her, there where few lifeboats left, however, I did manage to get her into one." He turned to rose and smiled, numbly she tried to return it. "and then of course," he continued, "I had to wait myself for a boat, I think I must have been on the last one to leave that liner." "I heard that it was supposed to be unsinkable," the old man replied. "unsinkable?" scoffed Cal, "no, I never believed that for a second." Rose almost chocked, remembering the first words he had said on seeing the ship. "this ship is unsinkable God himself could not sink this ship!" what a fool he turned out to be.
"Certainly that is a stunning necklace," commented Mr. Bernard. Cal smiled smugly, "nothing is too stunning from for my Rose," "where did you get it?" asked Mr. Bernard, sounding quite interested. As Cal explained all about it, the only person lost in there own thoughts at the table was Rose-or maybe not. As soon as the chatter about the heart of the ocean died down, Mrs. Bernard spoke up. "Rose," she began, startled at only herself being addressed, rose turned her full attention to her, "yes?" "it's funny," began Mrs. Bernard, "but today I got Jasmines and Mathews portraits done, and well, the man did quite a good job, very talented, but you see Rose, I wonder if you knew him? He showed much of his work, and many of the portraits where of you, what was his name again? Dawson, Jack Dawson." The room went unearthly quiet. "no you must have been mistaken," said Cal loudly, "Rose has never known any Jack Dawson, have you sweetpea?" but Rose was too shocked to answer. "no, I am quite sure he knew Rose." Persisted Mrs. Bernard. "he knew your name, he said you met on the titanic." The whole room was deadly quiet now. "where did you meet-," began Rose, But Cal quickly cut her off, "I suppose they just exchanged kind hellos in passing." "well," continued Mrs. Bernard. "there was one drawing I will never forget-it looked so real, Rose and him where on the railing of the Titanic, and she looked as if she where flying. Words where written on top, what was it? That song, come to me Josephine my flying machine, up she goes! Up she goes!" "oh him," said Ruth quickly, "he was of some assistance to Rose, but we hardly knew him, we invited him to dinner once, but that was all." "oh yes him," said Cal, in strange kind of voice, as if he where struggling to keep it quiet. "Yes, I hardly remember him, only met him once. He was from steerage" He forced a hearty laugh. "Do you remember him rose?" all heads turned towards her, Mrs. Bernard seemed quite interested. From the other side of the table, Cal gave her a warning glance. "I can't say I remember him too well at all," lied Rose, her heart breaking, "I met him briefly only twice, I had forgotten all about him . . ." there was laughter around the table, and then some other topic was quickly brought up, and all seemed to have forgotten Jack and Rose.
Inside Rose heart was soaring. Jack wasn't in prison! He was living his old life, the life she had wanted to live with him . . . and he still loved her, he still drew her. All at once she was filled happiness and terrible sadness.