Chapter 6

Another fictional encounter with Titanic's builder, the captain and the character. RIP Thomas Andrews and Captain Smith.

April 13, 1912

Jesse awakens the next morning to see his friends had all overslept once more, as they had drunk as many cheap beers as they can and gambled the night away, while he was cuffed for a short time to a bench, after trying to help a young woman who had nearly gone overboard, and Jack.

No good deed goes unpunished, I guess. Jesse thought, as he rubbed his wrist. The officers had apparently clamped that heavy handcuff on him, after they were thinking he and Jack were going to do something to that young woman, when all they did was offer a helping hand to the young woman. The little cabin smelled of stale cigarettes, as the men had been smoking all night, and had also reeked of bad booze. Soon, his mind began to wander back to that young woman he helped back on board. He heard that name before. That name rang a bell. Rose. It began to cycle in his head.

Rose.

Rose.

Rose. Bukater.

Now her face and Cal's had came together, as clear as day, as he slowly sat up on the bed. Back when they were on the Mauretania. As he was also a first-class passenger then. Jesse shuddered when Cal's face emerged, just like he did last night. Jesse knew nothing of Cal, just that he was an arrogant man of sorts, nothing more. Back when he was a passenger along with his father on the Mauretania he saw Rose walking towards him, as he was just standing next to the ship's elegant staircase, and was taking in the spectacle splendor of the grand ship. They were soon seated in a reception area near the staircase when she had mentioned something about marrying Cal, and something was mentioned about the Philadelphia Society, but then Jesse had been called to the radio room for messages that he was needed in France, after a last-minute plan from both his older brother and father. That was almost immediately after he and Cal had gotten into a fight that almost turned ugly after they boarded the ship. Jesse even gave him a bad shiner from that fight. He was surprised to see that his eye had healed since then. Cal had gotten angry over Jesse talking to Rose, and that's where that incident started. Above that, they were nearly kicked off the ship, but luckily, his father and his new boss were also onboard at that time. He now shudders whenever someone mentions the "Hockley" name. He's not afraid of the guy, he just wants that chapter of his past forgotten and buried, unless he wants to give him another black eye.

Jesse gets out of bed, stretches, and quietly yawns, as he goes over to the small communal sink, and begins to wash his face. That's when a knocking sound was heard. He turned off the faucet, grabbed a nearby towel and patted his face dry, and walked over to the door. A young steward from the upper decks was there, apparently summoned by one of the officer. He looks nervously at Jesse, who had a strand of dark hair hanging on his nose.

"Uh...Mr. Andrews wants y-you upstairs." He says nervously, and his voice quavered. Jesse smiles, making the steward even more uncomfortable.

"Okay, I'll be up in a minute". he says, as he slowly closed the door, hoping to avoid waking his friends in the process. He couldn't help but feel awkward now.

Why are people getting attracted to me suddenly? he wondered. Everywhere he went, women and even some men couldn't help but notice him, and he even noticed Jack had a slight attraction to him. He shook his head, trying to get the thought out. He dragged his bag out from under his bed to get out some better clothes, as he was going into the better classes above, and headed to see Mr. Andrews, the ship's designer, as Jesse scratched his head in wonder, before leaving his little cabin.

"Welcome to my office" Thomas Andrews says, with an Irish accent. "Please, do come in." He gestured Jesse to come inside. Jesse couldn't help but notice the man's plans that were laid out on a nearby table. He slowly studied them, every deck of the Titanic were laid out on those blueprints, and spread out on the man's already cluttered desk. Mr. Andrews sits behind his desk, after he shuffled the plans around a bit, and Jesse sits across from him. An officer arrives, bringing with him two cups of tea. Mr. Andrews asked Jesse if wanted some sugar, and wanted two pieces. They both thanked the officer, and once the door was closed, he continued.

"As you know, I am the builder and architect of this fine machine. Tell me, how are your accommodations in steerage, Mr. Williams, so that I may include these in my upcoming future plans, and of future ships?"

"Well, to be honest, this is my first time boarding as a steerage passenger. I have been a first-class passenger on the Olympic before, and I thought that was a fine vessel you have there, although some of the rooms, if I understand, are lacking, shall we say, some of the luxuries I have been hearing that is available this ship." Jesse then explains while being in steerage was indeed better than some of the ships at the time, but he then regrets what he is saying because the ticket prices might increase, due to him trying to make those necessary changes, despite him being a passenger. Thomas Andrews was taken aback, considering this handsome young man sitting in front of him, while young, was mature for his age, not to mention his intellect. Mr. Andrews then remembered why he called Jesse in the first place.

"The reason I called you here is to my understanding you have an older brother back in New York, whom with one of his colleagues has a connection to the White Star Line, is that he wants you to work with us, perhaps, with Chief Engineer Bell, what with your automobile knowledge and whatnot. We would prefer you to work either in the engine room or the electrical dynamo room" Andrews says. "We can take a grand tour if you like." Jesse couldn't believe what he was hearing. Just then Captain Smith entered the room, after he knocked. He comes over and puts both of his hands on Jesse's shoulders.

"I think this fine young man will be at home on the Titanic." He says, with a twinkle in his eye. While patting Jesse's shoulders, the captain continues, "My young man, as you know this is my last voyage aboard this ship. This may the last time we see each other, so who knows, you might even be the first American to captain this ship." With his hand still on Jesse's shoulders, he asks "Where's Mr. Ismay?"

"Oh, he's down in the engine room, apparently chewing both Bell and Barrett out on trying to figure out why they're not lighting the extra boilers." Mr. Andrews says, a bit sternly. "According to him, this ship is not fast enough. He insists we should be in New York, preferably a day earlier, to surprise the papers, because as he said, 'the press must marvel at her speed, not just her size' and that we 'should make headlines'."

"But I told him we shouldn't run the engines hard until they're properly broken in" says Smith.

"Yes, but he insists he get to New York a day early, possibly even at night, to surprise the papers, to get that coveted headlines." He says, then back at Jesse. "Sorry about this, young Jess, but we shall continue with this soon after, shall we?" Mr. Andrews asks. Slightly disappointed, Jesse understands, never getting to see the massive power plant that powers this complex machine on earth.

Back outside on the boat deck, Jesse looks around him. People were strolling about the boat deck, others were simply lounging in deck chairs, with blankets covering their legs, and some were reading a book. This scene reminds him of being back on the Olympic, before that terrible collision with a battle cruiser. He looks behind him, then craning his neck at the four massive smoke funnels, only three of which were spewing coal and ash that leaves a trail as far as the eye can see behind the ship. He turns left, towards the bow of the ship, and sees two couple walking near the lifeboats, towards or away from the wheel house, as he couldn't see their faces. But he guesses they were Rose and Jack, but he couldn't tell, as the sun was starting to set, and can't see their hair colors from where he was standing. Plus, they were many other people strolling the decks as the same times as the couple were. Suddenly, he remembered, that he needed to get ready for the dinner that Cal promised him and Jack for helping young Rose. Jesse shudders once more, but he reminded himself he would be there only for a while, and that this nightmare would all behind them.

...

While Jesse disappeared back inside the ship, in the promenade deck, Jack and Rose lean on the A-deck rail aft, shoulder to shoulder. The ship's lights begin to come on, as the sun slowly sets in front of them.

"So then what, Mr. Wandering Jack?" Rose asked, her eyes brightening.

"Well, then logging got to be too much like work, so I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. That's a swell place, they even have a roller coaster. I sketched portraits there for ten cents a piece." Jack says, squinting out into the distance, before returning his gaze back to Rose.

"A whole ten cents?!" Rose asked, stunned. She knew her life was worth much more than a few measly cents.

"Yeah. It was great money... I could make a dollar a day. Sometimes. But only in summer. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris and see what the real artists were doing." Jack says, clearly not paying attention to Rose's shocked response.

Rose looks out the slowly setting sun, her eyes squinting.

"Why can't I be like you Jack? Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it?" she turns her attention back to Jack, her red curls billowing about. "Say we'll go there, sometime... to that pier... even if we only ever just talk about it."

Jack gave her a warm smile. "Alright, we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on the rollercoaster until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach... right in the surf... but you have to ride like a cowboy, none of that side-saddle stuff."

"You mean one leg on each side?" Rose leans closer to Jack, then takes ahold of his suspenders. "Can you show me?"

Still smiling, Jack responded. "Sure, if you'd like." Rose returned his smile.

"I think I would." Then she returns her gaze back to the horizon. "And to talk like a man. And to-spit like a man-"

"What? They didn't teach you that in finishing school? Here, it's easy. Watch closely." Jack remembers how Jesse spits, then copied the way he spat. It arcs out over the water. He turns his attention back to Rose.

"That's disgusting!" Rose was completely shocked by this disgusting nature.

"That's the way Jesse spits, if I remember. Now you try it." Rose tries her best, but she clumsily made a mess on her chin.

"No! That was pitiful. Here, like this... you hawk it down..." Jack makes a noise from the back of his throat, then with difficulty, tries to explain the process, all the while trying not to spray when he spoke, "then roll it on your tongue, up to the front, like 'thith', then a big breath and..." he spits, then points. "You see the range on that thing?"

Rose goes through the steps. Hawks it down, etc., while Jack continually coaches her through it while doing the steps himself. She lets fly. So does he. Two comets of gob fly out over the water.

"That was great!" Jack was pretty enthused with himself. Rose turns to him, her face alight. Suddenly she blanches, her smile was wiped off her face that instant. Jack sees her expression and turns. Her mother, along with the Countess of Rothes, and Mrs. Brown have been watching them hawking. Rose becomes instantly composed, as she cleared her throat in a ladylike manner.

"Mother, may I introduce Jack Dawson?" Rose introduced. But her mother clearly looked displeased, as she gave a stern look to Jack.

"Charmed, I'm sure." was all she could muster, while trying to hide her annoyance to the young man. Jack has a little spit running down his chin. He doesn't know it, while Margaret is grinning, before pointing at his chin. He quickly wipes his little spit.

"Well, Jack, it sounds like you're a good man to have around in a sticky spot-" Margaret began, before a bugler sounds the meal call right behind them.

"Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like its the damn cavalry charge?"

"Shall we go dress, Mother?" Rose looks at her mother, before looking over her shoulder, back at Jack. "See you at dinner, Jack." Ruth takes her daughter's arm and leads her back into the ship. Jack stands by, still in awe as Rose disappears. Margaret finally gets his attention.

"Son? Son! Do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing?" Jack smiles at her.

"Not really."

"Well, you're about to go into the snakepit. I hope you're ready-What were you plannin' on wearing?" Margaret frowned at Jack's unkempt appearance. Jack looks down at his clothes, then back up at her. He hadn't thought about that.

"I figured. C'mon." Jack hoped Jesse would also make his way to the dinner, as Mrs. Brown takes Jack to her stateroom, to get him ready for their dinner.