April 14, 1912
Very early morning
Dear Diary,
The sun has just risen. I'm tired but I was too exhilarated to sleep much. I woke early again and came up here to the deck to write. It's cold, but I wear a coat and hat and a thick scarf is wrapped tight around my neck. The air smells of salt water and the only sounds I can hear are the splashing of the waves along the side of this great ship, and the scratching of my pen upon this paper. Last night was amazing. Without a doubt the greatest night of my life. I'll start with dinner. Mother and Cal left for the dining saloon a few moments before I. I stayed behind a moment because I realized I had forgotten to hide my diary. I told them to go ahead without me. A minute later I was walking through the carpeted corridor to the grand staircase, which is the most beautiful place on the inside of Titanic. It has intricate carvings, gold trimming along the rail, and an almost celestial glass dome presides overhead. Natural light shone through it, illuminating everything. (I promised last night not to miss a thing, right?)
I walked gracefully down the steps, the way my governess had taught me when I was a girl, so that my head didn't bop up and down. I looked around eagerly for Jack, but didn't see him. Then I noticed a man with blonde hair similar to his (except slicked back) with his back turned to me. He seemed to notice Mother and Cal passing him and prepared to greet him, but they ignored him. I don't think they recognized him. Jack, who always wears old earth tones and suspenders, was in a new tux! Molly Brown later told me she had lent it to him. Finally, Jack noticed me, only a few feet in front of him. He turned toward me looking absolutely pompous, and it was so strange for him, that I couldn't help but laugh a little. He stepped forward and greeted me, then took my gloved hand, held it to my lips and kissed it. Then he burst out laughing! He said something like, "I saw that in the Nickelodeon once and I always wanted to do it." I realized then that Jack was still the same old friendly guy who I liked so much. We calmed down and I took his arm and led him over to my group.
I tapped Cal on the shoulder and he and Mother turned around. "Darling, surely you remember Mr. Dawson," I said. Both of them sort of screwed up their faces a little and looked rather shocked.
Mother laughed a little and Cal said, "Mr. Dawson…Amazing…you could almost pass for a gentleman."
"Almost," said Jack. Mother and Cal turned to go to dinner and I stayed arm in arm with Jack. We began to proceed forward and Jack stuck his nose up in the air, making me laugh. Molly joined us and Jack escorted us to dinner. I pointed out to him some of the people in 1st class; the Astor's, the Duff Gordon's, so on and so forth. All of then had an interesting background, but I'm not going to dwell on them. I want to write about dinner.
Jack must have been nervous, but he never faltered. They assumed he was one of them; heir to a railroad fortune perhaps. New money, obviously, but still, a member of the club. Mother, of course could always be counted upon. "Tell me of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship," Mother said, smirking. She was sitting next on Cal's right, I on his left. Jack and Molly Brown were opposite us and there were about 10 other very rich people at our table.
"Best I've seen, ma'am; hardly any rats," he said, brushing off the clear insult on Mother's part that most would have found terribly offensive. Everyone laughed lightly.
Cal told everyone of how Jack was from 3rd class and had been of assistance to me last night. A steward came and asked Jack how he liked his caviar. "No caviar for me, thanks." Jack said. "Never did like it much." He looked at me pokerfaced and I smiled. Mother frowned disapprovingly. I then pointed out that Jack was a fine artist, which seemed to impress Mr. Andrews, but not Mother or Cal.
"And where exactly do you live?" Mother asked him.
"Well," he began, "Right now my address is the RMS Titanic, and after that I'm on God's good humor."
"And how is it you have means to travel?" She asked, determined to make him feel inferior.
"I work my way from place to place. You know tramp steamers and such. But I won my ticket on Titanic here at a lucky hand of poker. A very lucky hand." Then he looked to me.
"All life is a game of luck," Colonel Gracie chimed in.
"A real man makes him own luck, Archie" said Cal, "Right, Dawson?"
"And you find this sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" she said skeptically. Molly gave her that 'cold as ice stare' and I was worried that Jack may be embarrassed. But he wasn't.
"Well, yes ma'am, I do," he said thoughtfully. (This is his little speech as best as I can remember it) "I mean, I have everything I need right here with me. I've got the air in my lungs, and a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I like waking up each day not knowing what's gonna happen, where I'm gonna end up, and who I'm gonna meet," our eyes met, locked, and my heart rate seemed to speed up. "Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now I'm on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You never know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count." We stared at each other for a long moment, I truly moved at what he had said.
"Well said, Jack," Molly told him.
"Here, here!" cried Archie Gracie.
I raised my glass in a toast. "To making it count," I said.
"To making it count," they all repeated. He smiled and looked quite pleased with himself, and Mother was clearly annoyed. She had 'outed' him as a 3rd classman, thinking the others would shun him for it. But instead he had won them over. I like him for that, and especially for pissing off Mother so much. Then the conversation shifted to other matters, though the whole time I could feel Jack staring at me. Honestly, every now and then I would steel a glance at him as well.
After about another 30 minutes, our plates were being cleared and I leaned in and whispered to Jack, "Next it will be brandies in the smoking room." As if on queue, Mr. Gracie stood up and invited the gentlemen to a brandy. I shook my head at their pettiness. "Now they retreat to a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe." He nodded and laughed. He then stood up and said goodbye to Cal, then turned to me. "Jack, must you go?" I said.
"Time for me to go row with the other slaves," he said, and we both chuckled. He bent down and kissed my hand, then walked away, looking back. I noticed he had slipped a little scrap of paper in my hand. I looked around to make sure no one was watching and read it. It said, "Make it count. Meet me at the clock." The thought, Should I? ran through my head, and I made my decision. I told Mother I was feeling tired, though in truth I was fresh as a daisy. I walked up the grand staircase, no longer filled with natural light from the dome, for it was night. As if he sensed me, Jack turned around as I neared him and said, "So, you wanna go to a real party?"
Needless to say, within minutes we were below decks, with the 3rd class. I had never been down there before. I admit, I expected nothing but unrefined hooligans, and I was right! And I loved it! They were a jolly bunch, rough and drunk, but fun and carefree. The second Jack led me down the steps to the 3rd class general room, I was swept away by all the noise and music and dancing and laughing and yelling. Jack and I sat down at an empty table and drank some beer. I can't for the life of me remember the last time I drank beer! It was great! Then Jack abruptly stood up. "Wanna dance?" He said. I shook my head. He shrugged and a little girl, about 5, came up to him and tugged on his shirt. He and the girl, whose name is Cora, went out onto the dance floor and danced and danced. He looked so good out their, I could hardly stand it. Part of me wanted to go join him, but I just couldn't. I was fine listening to the Irish music and watching the other people, many of whom were drunk. But then the band stopped and Jack came over to me. "Come on," he said.
"What?" I asked. He just took my hand and led me to the center of the dance floor. "No! Jack, no! I can't, Jack," I said, for I have never been much for risk taking. Finally, we were in position and the band started up again. "Jack," I said, "I can't do this."
"We're gonna have to get a little bit closer," he said, ignoring my protests. "Like this," and he pulled me in closer, so that our bodies were touching. The music sped up and he began to pull me around the floor, while I screamed in a combination of fear and delight.
"I don't know the steps!" I cried.
"Neither do I! Just go with it!" It's hard to describe the dance. We spun around and around, holding hands, screaming and laughing breathlessly. Every now and then I would scream for him to stop, but he never did. And I'm glad. It was an odd predicament. I kept wanting it to stop, but at the same time, I wanted it to go on and on.
Suddenly, Jack swept me onto a raised platform and started to tap dance with the beat! I laughed and took off my shoes and tossed them to a lady. Then I tap danced too! A different beat started and Jack and I did a hoe down type number the joined hand and started spinning in dizzy circles. "No!" I cried, laughing as the room spun behind Jack's face. At last we let go together and fell almost off the platform. He ran over (though it took him a while, he was so dizzy) and helped me to my feet. We ran over to a table and he passed me a beer, which I gulped down. Jack looked at me, with impressed shock written upon his face. "What?" I said, "You think a first class girl can't drink?" Some men were arm wrestling, and since I never get opportunity to speak to men in such a way, I said, "So, you think you're big tough men?" I removed the cigarette from one of their mouths and took a drag. "Let's see you do this!" I handed the train of my gown to Jack.
In my stocking feet I assumed a ballet stance; arms raised, and went up on point, taking my entire weight on the tips of my toes. The guys gaped at my dare I say incredible muscle control. I came back down, then my face screwed up in pain. I grabbed one foot, hopping around. I feel upon Jack, laughing. I few minutes later, the music started once and I danced with Jack again. And again. And again. I've never felt so alive! The night went on and on, and actually lasted until very, very, very early morning. I was terribly disappointed when it ended.
Jack said he would walk me up to my cabin, but as we were nearing it, I led him in another direction and we emerged onto the deck. I just didn't want the night to end. We were singing "Come Josephine" together. Then we stopped and quieted when we noticed the beautiful night. It was rather awkward and I didn't know what to say. The last time we had been completely alone together was the night I tried to…you know…kill myself. I stared up at the sky in disbelief. It was so beautiful, it took my breath away. I leaned back against a davit and stared up at the cosmos.
"It's magnificent, isn't it?" I said, after a long silence, "So grand and endless." I went over to the rail and leaned back on it. Part of me actually wanted to cry. Cry for the beauty of it all, and cry because I knew how much I liked Jack, but how I was stuck with Cal. I turned to Jack, wanting him to know that I liked him, but unable to tell him, and said, "They're such small people, Jack... my crowd. They think they're giants on the earth, but they're not even dust in God's eye. They live inside this little tiny champagne bubble... and someday the bubble's going to burst."
As if Jack knew exactly what I was feeling, He leaned at the rail next to me, his hand just touching mine. It was the slightest contact imaginable, and all I could feel was that square inch of skin where our hands were touching. I heard Jack take a deep breath, as if he were looking for something to me. "You're not one of them," he told me. "There's been a mistake."
"A mistake?"
"Yeah," he said, "like you got mailed to the wrong address."
I laughed. "I did, didn't I?" Then, something caught my eye and I pointed up towards the heavens. "Look!" I cried, "A shooting star!" Together we watched the long tail of light fly through the sky.
"That was a long one. My father used to say that whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven," Jack said, almost talking to himself.
I thought of my brother. "I like that," I said. "But aren't we supposed to wish on it?"
Jack turned to me, smiling. I could feel his attraction to me. "What would you wish for?" He asked. Jack looked at me, and found that we were suddenly very close together. It would have been so easy to move another couple of inches, and kiss. Jack seemed to be thinking the same thing.
I wanted to say, "I would wish for Jack Dawson," lean in and kiss him, but I remembered Cal. I remembered him and my obligation to my family that I could not get out of, how I could not go on fooling myself, and now wishes never come true. "Something I can have," I answered, smiling sadly. I stood straight and leaned away from him and the rail. "Goodnight, Jack, and thank you." And with that, I turned and walked through the first class entrance, though I would have done anything not to. I could hear him calling after me, but I just kept walking. I slipped into my room unnoticed and tried to sleep. Now, here I am on the boat deck. I wish the night had ended that way. But still, I can not forget that party! I'm afraid I have written more than I intended. I must be off now. Breakfast with Cal. Oh, God, how can I face him, while I know my secret feelings for Jack? God be with me…
Your friend,
Rose
A/N: I know I left out some conversation here and there but it's so it would seem more realistic as a diary, and what one person would be able to remember. But I don't know if this is any good because it's all kind of new (this kind of writing, I mean). Please, Please, REVIEW! PLEASE! I will love you forever if you would just review! Pretty Please with sugar on top!
