Chapter 41

A/N A small flashback will be contained herein.

June 18, 1912

Cal slowly sits up in his bed, the bed he and Rose had once slept in during their engagement, which is now cold and forgotten. He rubs his eyes as he tried to focus what had happened recently. The house is now quiet, save for a few Sunday traffic outside, as people were heading to church or milling about outside. He throws off his sheets and gets out of bed, then goes over to the mirror, and looks at himself. The cuts on his forehead and lip had barely healed, now just a scab. He began to ball his fists. First Jesse gave him a black eye, then a strangulation, and finally, his woman had left him for that rat, only for the police to beat him and throw him in a disgusting cell. He has now wondered how many times he has been made a fool, since the death of his beloved Spicer Lovejoy. That servant would follow him to the ends of the earth, no questions asked. After all, he was a former military police, which made him an ideal candidate. Sometimes he wondered why he made him follow that gutter rat to his death, and unfortunate rescue; for if he had stayed with him, he might have had the chance at surviving the sinking. He had wondered where Mrs. Bukater had gone to as well. It was almost a week since she was seen, and he tried to formulate an unfortunate plan to tell her that Rose ran away again, like she did back on the ship. Fortunately for him, he had an office in New York, where he can work and stay there, hoping she will be there with that gutter rat, if he was still alive. He took Jesse out of the plan, since he was finally dead as well. To put his plan into action he decided to tell Mrs. Dewitt Bukater a little lie that he and Rose decided to go to New York, hoping to keep a lid on this situation for a while longer, then he will tell her the bad news, even if it meant she will take her life. He hated being the bearer of bad news, especially one this large, as it involved the entire Philadelphia society, as well as his father. His father had called in the prior day that he needed to get the marriage plan underway, and to bear forth a child, so he can provide an heir to his steel business.

He knew he'd seen that gutter rat board the train before it departed Philadelphia, when the police removed him from the platform, and was thrown in the car. He'd get back at him, whatever means necessary, to get back what was his. And with Jesse gone at last, it was a much easier plan to carry out than he expected. He celebrated his mischievous plan with a brandy, and Robert soon joined him. Cal told him his plan; he'd lie to Rose's mother that they'd gone to New York to prepare for the wedding, only that she ran off, then he'd play the hero; kill whomever took Rose, and bring her home, safe and sound. Robert sits there, trying to find holes in that diabolical plans, but Cal reassures him nothing will ever go wrong; since one is now dead; while the other is still poking holes in his love life, and needs to be exterminated into oblivion.

June 20, 1912

Jesse was downstairs giving the small living room table a needed dusting when Marion came down the stairs. She had tucked in Jack for his afternoon nap when she noticed Jesse looking up at her, and smiling subtly. He ran his hand through his hair, as Marion slowly made her way to Jesse. She took ahold of his hand, and brought him to the couch, then pulled him down next to her. They soon got into a passionate kiss, while Marion ran her hands through Jesse's hair, completely ruffling it. Jesse smiled, then slowly got up, with Marion still holding onto his hand. Jesse shook his messy hair, then led Marion to his room. There, Marion gently pushed Jesse onto the bed, then got on top of him. She lovingly ran her hands through Jesse's soft, thick hair, caressing every strand, then she starts spreading and combing his hair over the pillow with her fingers. She was amazed at how much hair this boy had, as she gently blew and pushed the remaining fringes away from his forehead and face, all the while admiring his beautiful almond-shaped brown eyes. She loved how soft his hair was, and the texture was just right in her hands, and how much shine his hair had, especially the unique highlights his hair had when the light shone on it. Jesse smiled as he tried to look, but Marion seductively put her finger to his lips, and gently pushed him back down to the bed, then proceeded to play with his hair once more, before touching his double chin. She went in for another kiss, and before long, they were lost in the ever growing passion.

...

Jessica and Jon returned home, along with Fabrizio, Jack, Rose and Karl, only to find the house quiet. They looked at each other, before Jessica and Jack decided to check upstairs. First, they checked Jack's room, where Jessica found her tot sleeping soundly under his covers. Soon, they carefully and quietly walked to Jesse's room. There, they saw a beautiful sight. Laying in the bed, was Marion, resting atop her brother's chest, who had his arm wrapped around her, and the other laying across the bed, and his dark hair was neatly spread out over the pillow, like a fan, and they were soundly asleep as well. Jessica carefully closed the door, giving the couple a needed privacy.

June 21, 1912

Jesse's father sat in his usual chair in the living room, reading a paper and looking after his grandson while Fabrizio, Jesse and Karl were tending to the house for much needed repairs. Hammers could be heard banging on the roof as Jessica and Marion tended to the household chores, despite the plaster sprinkling down from the vibrations, and Jack went to work on the back door, hoping to once and for all, get it to close properly. The front door opened, then slammed, as Jesse entered, wiping sweat from his forehead and neck.

"I thought New York would be cool, compared to being back at home. It's sticky out there." He says, tugging at his shirt to fan himself, while his slender neck gleamed with sweat. He went next to the stairs, where the storage closet was, and began rummaging in there, while his sister followed behind.

"Jess, can you fix the toilet, if you get the chance?" Jessica asked, as she swept, while her brother began shuffling the things around in the dimly lit closet, and disappeared as the blackness swallowed Jesse, like an endless void.

"No chance. It has a design flaw from the start. Until they come with a better flowing pipes that toilet will be a problem, especially with our guests living here. Aha! Here's what I'm looking for." Jesse pulled something, as it rattled in the darkness, then he emerged from the dark closet, with a large web dangling from his hair to his shoulder. Jessica jumped, as a black spider emerged from her brother's thick hair and crawled down his shirt. Jesse gave his sister a one-brow raise, then looked down at what gave her a fright.

"'Getattahea!'" he flicked at the spider, then stepped on it. "Sorry. Now this is what I was looking for. I gotta give this to Fabrizio." With that, he ran to the front door, before sneezing. She watched in time as dust flew around Jesse as he sneezed multiple times into his arm. He wasn't a loud sneezer, though not as quiet either, until he was far enough from anyone. And like that, he let out a big sneeze after he left the front door, followed by sniffling and hawking of phlegm. The banging of hammers on the roof soon resumed.

...

Fabrizio and Karl were exhausted from the roof repairs, but they had finished nonetheless. Karl fanned himself with his hat as Fabrizio took a drink of freshly squeezed lemonade, and Jesse was the last to enter back in the house. Jack had the easiest job, as he needed to tell Jon the door frame needed to be replaced, as some parts of the frame had rotted and the door was ready to fall off. Marion hugged Jesse, after he had changed his clothes, and Rose the same to Jack. Jack cleared his throat.

"How did you come back home, after the collision?" Jesse looked up, then at his father. His father returned the look, as if telling him to tell the story. Marion also looked up to Jesse, then he looked down at her, then pulled her tightly.

"Well, it's sort of hilarious. It began..."

October, 1911 Southampton

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck, the pain still there even after the incident occurred two weeks prior. His father was disgruntled, after trying to pull strings so he can get back home as soon as possible. The news had gotten around of the Olympic's collision, and was dry-docked, for repairs. His father once again left the hotel, for any means to get himself and his son home. Eventually he came back, with tickets in hand, for a merchant ship.

"Finally! Pack up! We're going home." His father called, as he began throwing his clothes into a trunk, not caring to fold them. At the wharf, Jesse emerged from the carriage, as his father called porters to take their luggage to the ship. There, in front of them, was a small ship, with four masts and a single funnel. It reminded Jesse of the pirate stories he usually told his nephew at bedtime.

"What ship is this?" Mr. Williams asked, as he struggled to read the ticket. He eventually gave the ticket to his son, after failing to read the script, and his eyes were going bad slowly. "Newfangled writing. Can't read the dadblasted thing."

"It says the S.S. Californian. Merchant ship to Boston. From Leyland Lines." Jesse read the ticket.

"Boston?! That's just great!" His father threw his hands in the air, as they walked up the gangplank to the Californian, with Jesse walking backward.

"Look at it this way. We get to see another city." Jesse says, then turns in time before he hit his head to the ship's entrance.

"Ah. Touché my dear boy. Well put." He put a gentle hand on his son's shoulder, as they made their way through the slightly darkened corridors. They were shown their cabin, which contained crude items like a bed, dresser and a small couch. The cabin left nothing to the imagination. It was a far cry from both the Mauretania and their trip-cut-too-short Olympic.

"That Mr. Smith! Why I oughta-" Jesse's father grumbled under his breath, as their luggage was being brought into the cabin. He took a small drink of alcohol from his flask. "Send me on a short trip, will he? Well-" He jokingly handed the flask to his son.

"You can have the bed, Father. I'll sleep on the couch." Jesse could tell the bed was lumpy, while his father looked at his son. Then he turned his attention to the couch, as he put the flask back in his coat pocket.

"That old thing? Are you sure? It's much too small for a boy like you. I've been working for Mr. Hockley for almost two years, and I have been on ships that are just like this one. Trust me, my boy, its going to be a long journey. This isn't like the Mauretania..."

"You're right. I'll sleep on the floor. Just like old times sake."

"I don't know, son." Mr. Williams tapped his foot to the floor. "It's iron, and it's too cold. These are not like the old wood floors back at the house. You might catch a nasty cold-And your back-"

"I'll manage."

"Are you sure?"

Before Jesse could answer, there was a knock on their door, and an officer poked his head in.

"Everything alright in here?" he asked, then blushed slightly at the sight of Jesse, who was pushing his hair back. The father and son duo looked at each other, with Jesse still holding up his hair.

"We're having sort of a sleeping accommodations dilemma." Mr. Williams clears his throat, tugging at the ends of his coat. Jesse blew at a loose strand of his hair, then dropped his shoulders, gave a little pout as he looked back at his father.

"I think we can help with that. There's one cabin open. Maybe she can have that one." the officer says, clearly mistaken Jesse as if he were a female. Mr. Williams raised an eyebrow, then looked at his son, who was digging in a sack while he was sitting on the couch.

"He's actually my son." Mr. Williams cleared his throat again, then patted his son's shoulder, while Jesse looked up. The officer laughed, then tugged at his collar nervously.

"Well, that's-that..." He straightened, cleared his throat, then led Jesse to a room next to his father. This one was in a slightly worse shape than his father's. Jesse put down his sack, then checked the bed. At the center the bed sagged, the dresser needed to be replaced, and the couch was heavily beaten.

"We use this room for additional cotton storage when the bunkers becomes full." he says, as he watched Jesse lift the mattress from the bed. With a grunt, he flipped the mattress, after looking under the bed for structural deformities, and found none. The officer crossed his arms then leaned against the door frame, as he continued to keep his eyes on Jesse.

"You know, I can take you to a much better room than this one-"

"Thank you. I'll be fine with this one." Jesse says, walking to the door. He was close enough to the officer, as he brushed his hair from his brown eyes, and gave him a small smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me-" Jesse closed the door, leaving the officer in the dimly lit corridor. He smiled, as if acting this young man was indeed playing hard to get, as he made his way back to the bridge.

...

With the last batch of cotton being loaded into the hatch, a whistle blew below the docks. Other officers on deck gave hand signals, while the captain, Stanley Lord, who was the ship's captain just for a few months now, gave orders to start the ship's engines.

"Decent amount of cotton, have we?" the officer says, reading a clipboard.

"Yes. And how many passengers on board?" Captain Lord asked, as he watched his men on deck tying ropes from the tugs.

"Just 43, sir."

"Good. We shall be in Boston in about a week." the captain says, looking down at his watch. Soon, the ship was on her way, albeit slowly, to Boston. In the mess hall, Jesse and his father sat at the table for dinner, along with some of the passengers. It became clear that he and his father were the only ones to go back to America after the Olympic's collision. The gentle rocking motion of the small ship made Jesse very sleepy. He tried his best to stay awake, as a passenger across from Jesse tried to pass him a cup of steaming coffee. He took a drink, as the bitter black liquid made its way to his stomach.

"That's coffee, son." His father says, as he watched his son bob his head up and down, trying to fight his sleep. Soon he fell asleep, his head swaying with the motion of the ship. His father carried his son to his room, along with another passenger, as Jesse sleepily made his way down the corridor, as if he was in a drunken stupor.

"Huh. I've always wondered how you two came back." Jon says, holding his wife's shoulder. "Since you two didn't come back to the house."

"Yeah. We just went straight to Philadelphia soon after, the first train out. We threw our tickets, with Father saying 'We must never speak of that again.'" Jesse says, trying to mimic his father's voice. He was still holding onto Marion, who had fallen asleep on his chest. His father looked up, and uncrossed his legs, then folded his paper, as he got up from his chair, then went upstairs to get ready for bed. Marion soon woke up, then yawned before turning her attention to Jesse.

"I guess we'll turn in for the night." Jesse says, then yawned himself. Soon, everyone called it a night.