Chapter 3

Jack struggled to push himself up onto his hands and knees. He winced in pain when he turned over one of his hands and saw that the skin was scraped and bleeding. The white shirt he wore was no longer white and had smudges of dirt and mud on it. He stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off trying to put together the pieces in his mind of what just happened. There he was, right in front of Rose, and the happy reunion he had hoped for had blown up in his face. Morana had not mentioned this part of the deal and Jack was furious at her for not doing so.

"Morana!" He yelled out into the night. "Morana show yourself right now!" Jack started pacing back and forth like a dog waiting to be let out of its cage. He let out a frustrated huff and ran both hands back through the hair that wasn't his.

"Morana!"

As if in answer, an eerie wind blew, which Jack recognized as Morana's way of announcing her arrival. It did not feel like an ordinary wind. It felt like some kind of force, almost like the feeling a person gets when they're being watched or sensing another person in the room. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his stomach drop.

"You called?" she asked in that silky voice of hers.

"There you are!"He shouted as he marched towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

He jabbed a finger at her chest. "You're damn right something is wrong! What the hell is this?" Jack yelled pulling at his face and clothes. Morana, though slightly smaller than him, didn't seem at all intimidated by Jack and his anger, if anything she appeared bored by it.

"What's what?"

"This!This face and this body?"

"It's you."

"No it's not."

"Yes Jack, I'm afraid it is."

"What are you playing at? This wasn't part of the deal; you told me that you would give me my life back!"

"And I did. I said I would give you your life back. I did not say I would give you back your body."

"Well why didn't you put me back in my own body?"

She gave him a look as if to say it were stupid question. "Jack it's been nine years, I couldn't possibly place you back into your own body, it would be nothing but a pile of rotting meat and bones. I figured this one would suffice."

"Who is this guy anyway?"

Morana moved her hand as if she were pulling down an invisible zipper and a big black leather bound book appeared. She pulled out a pair of spectacles from the inside of her cleavage and started searching the book in a quick motion until she found the page she was looking for.

"Ah here we are." She said using her finger as a pointer. He goes by the name of Jonathan Calvert; age 25, working middle-class male, hobbies are fishing and wood carving. He used to live on a farm with his parents, left home when he was 18 and got a job here in Pennsylvania as a steel worker and has been working here ever since." She adjusted her glasses and started thumbing through the pages mumbling to herself. "Let's see…childhood illnesses….goals and ambitions…. bad habits… relationships…."

"Morana!"

"Hmm according to his timeline, my records show that he wasn't scheduled to die for at least another 60 years."

"You mean to tell me you gave me some poor man's body and it wasn't even his time yet!"

"You needed a body Jack," she said closing the book with a loud thud. "It was either Jonathan Calvert or the triple chinned butcher at the meat market that suffered a heart attack not far from here. I did you a favor."

Jack looked at her, his mouth open in disbelief. "Is this a joke to you? Why didn't you tell me you weren't putting me back in my own body?"

"Why do you think?"

Jack thought a moment and then he figured it out "Because if you had, I probably would have changed my mind."

"Bingo."

"But that wasn't fair Morana! You weren't honest with me; you withheld information so the scales would tip in your favor. You offered me a choice without giving me all the details."

She clasped her hands in a pleading gesture "Oh Jack, come on, is it so wrong that I just really wanted you two to be together?"

"No, but I didn't expect you to kill someone just so I could live again."

"Calm down, he barely felt a thing."

"Oh yeah?" He asked with his fists to his hips, "Then how did he die?"

She scrunched her nose suggesting it were an insignificant matter. "He was hit by a car."

"And you expect me to believe that he didn't feel a thing?"

"You know, I do wish you would show just a little gratitude. If you're just going to complain it's not too late for me to slap you into the butcher's body." She raised both eyebrows with a meaningful look, "I'm sure Rose would love that."

Jack swallowed; he felt his body tense at her threat. A part of him wanted to strangle her but he told himself to keep in mind who he was talking to. This was not just some ordinary woman, she had the power; he was at her mercy. In the end Jack just sulked up against the wet brick wall of the alley. He took a deep breath allowing his anger to cool with it. "I'm sorry, you're right. I am grateful. It's just… it just makes things more difficult now."

"Good, I'm glad you understand." She turned to take her leave, her long blonde hair and dress twirling behind her."

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"Well if you don't mind, I've got a suicide, a gunshot victim, and two elderlies within the next two hours; you aren't my only client you know. My job isn't put on hold just because you call me. Every second of every day someone is knocking at my door."

"But how am I supposed to spend time with Rose if she doesn't even know who I am?"

"That's for you to figure out, but remember you only have a month so I suggest you get to it."

"But that could take days, maybe even weeks. I don't have time to play 'guess who' for the entire month. After what happened tonight I doubt she'll let me anywhere near her."

Jack put his head in his hands and let out hopeless grunt. Morana looked down at him and her face softened a little.

She walked over to where he was and sat down beside him. She hooked an arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder. Jack didn't pull away. He found her closeness comforting. It felt genuine, like the comfort of a friend. He was thankful for it because whether he liked it or not Morana was his only friend right now. Looking down at her Jack had thought that if he had ever met her during the time he was alive, he never would've guessed that this beautiful woman right next to him was the caretaker of human souls.

"Listen to me Jack; you have to help her see. Help her to look beyond the physical."

She stroked Jack's forearm with her thumb and looked up at him with those attractive blue eyes. "People tend to rely solely on their eyes to see when some things just can't be seen with your eyes."

"I'm not following you."

"Love is a powerful thing Jack; its power surpasses even me. My powers can't destroy it; only delay it for a little while. True love between two individuals is a connection that goes deeper than what is seen on the outside, it's a connection of the soul. When that connection is made the two souls become in sync with one another. They respond to each other. Remember what you told me? When I asked you how you knew that Rose missed you?"

"I said that I could feel her."

Morana nodded, "That's it. You and Rose have a special bond that cannot be seen with the human eye, it is seen with this." She said pressing a hand to his chest.

"My point is, if you want Rose to see you for who you are, help her to see with her heart, not with her eyes."

Jack smiled a little "You know, for someone who deals in the realm of death, you seem to know a lot about human emotions."

He felt her chuckle against him. "I've been around a very, very, long time Jack. Part of conducting a good business is understanding your clients. And yet still there are some things about the human condition I myself don't understand. Sometimes you people can be quite the enigma."

A moment of silence passed between them. "I'm sorry I couldn't put you back into your own body Jack, truly I am. But I know you; you will find a way to make it work." She patted his arm and rose to her feet.

"So how do I get Rose to see with her heart?"

"Like I said Jack that's for you to figure out, and you will, you're a smart young man. Now I have to go. Remember, I'll be back to take you at midnight at the end of the month. Keep in mind that you cannot stay here forever. Try not to get too attached to this world. Letting go is always the hardest part."

"Morana, are there anymore conditions to our arrangement that I need to know about?"

A sly smile spread across her face. "No that's the only one and don't worry the grogginess you feel in your legs will wear off in a couple days, you may also find it a little difficult to eat. Just minor side effects. Your soul is still trying to adapt to its new environment."

He scratched the back of his head and mumbled. "I was wondering about that."

"And just one more thing, remember that everyone around you is going to see you as Jonathan Calvert. So don't be surprised if you happen to run into anyone that he may have come in contact with. My advice to you would be to just go along with it."

Jack nodded his understanding "So does this Calvert guy have a place to stay?"

"Yes, I believe he lives in an apartment about eight blocks south from here. 1536 Richmond boulevard apartment eight. Anymore questions?"

"No, I think that's it." She turned back but then Jack called after her again.

"Morana…thank you."

She gave him a tight lipped smile and a slight nod of her head. When she finally turned to walk away her figure slowly began to fade until there was nothing left and Jack was once again left alone.

He tilted his head back up against the wall. Morana was right; he had no time to lose. See with her heart he thought to himself.

He came to his feet on wobbled legs and jammed his hands into his pants pockets. He felt the jangle of keys which he could only assume were the keys to Jonathan's apartment. Taking them out of his pocket he shuffled them a bit in his hand before tossing them up and catching them again. This wasn't going to be easy; but if there's one thing that Jack knew, it was that when it came to the game of life you can either choose to play with the hand your dealt or you can fold. Death had dealt the cards and Jack had played his hand now Rose had to make the next move.

Last night she dreamt of the man from the theater. Before settling down for bed, Rose had taken out an old wooden chest about the size of a shoe box that was placed at the bottom of her traveling trunk. Inside of it she pulled out the rare blue diamond that was her gift from her ex fiancée. She plopped down on the bed and fingered its heart shape. At one point Rose had considered selling the thing, but every time she did she thought of Cal and in the end she had made up her mind that she would make it without his help. It was tempting at times, especially with the fear of starvation, but somehow she managed to survive. The diamond held other memories as well, it held memories of her and Jack; and those memories made the diamond worth keeping. It was her only connection to him; it was the only proof she had that Jack had been real. Losing him had been hard. When she watched him sink to the bottom of the ocean she had felt a part of herself go with him. Rose had thought she was alone when it was just Cal and her mother but she hadn't known true loneliness until Jack was taken from her. She cried for months from the pure anguish she felt. Rage took over her. She was angry at herself, she was angry at him. They had a responsibility to eachother and she had not held up her end. She didn't think she would ever get back on her feet. But after the months she spent grieving Rose decided that it was time to move on with her life. She imagined The Heart of the Ocean as a representation of her own heart, representing a tragic yet loving moment in her life. That was why she bought the wooden lock box. The day she bought it she had placed the diamond inside along with Jack and all the ties to her old life. It was a piece of herself that she locked away from the world and no one could get to it. She would not share Jack; she would not talk of Jack. He was hers.

Now for the first time in nine years Rose had found herself pulling it out again. Old feelings began to surface and it started when that strange man had come into her dressing room. He seemed crazed, a mad man. Her anger boiled at the thought of that lunatic tainting her beloved's name, spewing it from his lips claiming it to be his own "It's me it's Jack" he had said. She felt her heart ache just a little at the sound of the desperation in his voice. He had been reaching out for her as if nothing else in the world mattered. A small part of her wanted to believe, but it seemed a cruel joke. She had at last come to terms with Jack's death and now she felt as if she were being mocked by the world. Rose decided that she wouldn't fall for it. Jack was dead and there was nothing she could do to change that fact. She gave up wishing for things to have worked out differently a long time ago. Wishing would not bring him back to her.

Still, Rose couldn't help but wonder if the man was alright. She didn't know why she cared; the man was probably drunk and deranged and he had no right to barge into her room like that. Rose only hoped that that would be the last time she saw him.

After putting the diamond away she lied awake in bed for the longest time before finally extinguishing the light from her lamp and turning to her side clutching her sheets to her breast. She would forget about the man from the theater.

The next morning Rose went about her normal routine. She bathed, brushed her hair, put on a simple blue dress cut square at the neck, and threw on a knitted shawl with different flower patterns designed into the fabric. She picked up her tan tote bag and headed out the door.

Being an actress at the Playhouse didn't pay all the bills. By day she worked as a seamstress and every day when she took that she took that walk to work she thought of her mother. If Ruth could see her now she would probably be ashamed. She visualized her mother shaking her head and placing a dramatic hand over her chest in disgust. That made Rose laugh. Rose Dewitt Bukater, pampered, spoiled, princess of the Bukater household reduced to a common seamstress.

She didn't mind the job so much; in fact she rather enjoyed it. She liked being able to use her hands to create things and weave fine clothing and fabrics. On top of that it kept her busy. Rose didn't like staying at home with nothing to do and she found that it took her mind off things.

At last Rose walked out the door to her apartment building, making sure to lock the door behind her. When she turned around she jumped back. There at the bottom of the stairs leaning up against the black railing was the man from the theater. He stood there arms folded and a crooked smile on his lips.

"Hi there." He said in a cheerful tone.

"You!" what are you doing here?"

"I had to see you."

"How did you know where I lived?"

"Lucky guess."

"You followed me home didn't you?"

"Not….exactly, listen I need to talk to you."

"Well you wasted your time; I don't want to talk to you. So do yourself a favor and stay away from me." Rose practically stomped down the steps and pushed him off to the side but Jack followed close behind her.

"Rose would it really hurt to just talk to me for a couple of minutes, at least let me walk with you." She stopped mid stride and looked at him. He looked different from the last time she saw him, he no longer wore a black suit. Today he wore a light blue buttoned up cotton shirt. His sleeves were rolled up all the way to his elbows and his pants were simple brown corduroys. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a muscular physique that had all the right proportions. His eyes were brown and his hair was brown with streaks of blonde here and there. The style of it was so familiar to her. It flopped down in front of his eyes and for some reason Rose found it painful to look at so she forced herself to look away and went back to her walk.

"So," Jack said, "Where are you off to?"

"I'm going to work." She said bitterly.

"Oh, that's good. What do you do?"

"I'm a seamstress."

"A seamstress? But I thought you were an actress?"

"Didn't you want to talk to me about something?" she snapped.

"Right. Now Rose I know you might find this hard to believe but just let me get this out. "I am Jack Dawson."

"Is that so." She said, clearly not believing him.

"No really, I am Jack Dawson."

Rose couldn't bring herself to look at him; every time she did she felt her chest tighten. "Could you please stop saying that name?"

"But it's true. We met on the Titanic, your fiancée's name was Caledon and your mother's name is Ruth." Jack ran his hands back through his hair trying to think. "You tried to kill yourself by jumping off the back of the ship and I saved you." That made Rose stop and she looked at him with wide eyes.

He turned her to look at him with both hands gripping her shoulders and this time Rose couldn't look away. "Look at me Rose, really look at me."

His grip on her hurt a little, he must've realized this because his hands moved up to gently cup both sides of her face instead. His brown eyes locked on hers. "Who do you see?"

She swallowed. Those eyes bore into hers and the touch of his hands on her face were beginning to tear down all the emotional barriers that she had put up around her heart. No one had ever touched her like this, not since—no, it couldn't be. Something inside her was responding to him, something she couldn't ignore. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest and there was this insatiable urge, an urge to kiss him. But this was a stranger, she did not know this man and yet maybe she did. It was confusing, she felt her eyes water as she did battle with her emotions. She desperately wanted him to let go of her, desperately she didn't.

"Who do you see?" he asked again.

His voice was not at all forceful; it was gentle and patient in waiting for her answer. She felt his thumb brush away a tear that managed to escape. She could feel the eyes of onlookers as they walked past them.

"Rose?"

She looked back up into his eyes and pulled his hands away from her face "You are obviously a deranged man who has no idea who he is and preys on the hearts of young women in the cruelest of ways."

Rose turned away from him and her pace quickened. "Rose wait!" Jack grabbed hold of her hand but she snatched it away.

"Stay away from me!" she yelled, her voice cracking.

"Rose, please." But she was already gone. Her fiery red hair trailed behind her like an angry pennant.

She didn't feel him following behind her but that didn't stop her from walking fast. What was happening to her? She angrily wiped away her tears, she wanted to hit something. When Rose finally turned the corner of the next street she leaned up against the brick wall of a nearby building and collapsed in tears.