Chapter 4

Every day the cycle was the same. She would wake up, get dressed, and right before she left for work she would look out the window and see the man from the theater outside patiently waiting at her door. Every day he would walk with her to work. He didn't always preach that same lie that he was Jack Dawson, sometimes he would just make conversation, and Rose hardly said anything. She answered questions when asked but she never added to the discussion. She had hoped it would be enough for him to get the hint to leave her alone. It didn't work, she could tell he was getting irritated with her but that never stopped him.

If he wasn't waiting outside her home, he would wait outside her job. He would leave to get a snack once or twice but he always came back. Rose was confronted by her boss about the issue of the man loitering outside of the shop. When she told the man about it, he apologized and Rose had thought she had been rid of him then. She knew she was only fooling herself because as soon as she left for the evening, there he was coming around the corner ready to walk her home. He was persistent she would give him that.

The nights she went to the Playhouse she informed Henry of the man who had barged into her room. Without having to ask, Henry knew what she wanted. He ordered double the amount of security officers posted at the front entrance. Even the side entrance that Jack had used the first time had been blocked. He wasn't even allowed to sit on the premises, so Jack patiently waited across the street seated on an old wooden bench beneath the yellow glow of the tall street light.

When she left the Playhouse she glanced across the street and saw him sitting there with that cocky smile on his face waving at her. If Rose hadn't known the man she probably would've been frightened; but seeing him there with that smile on his face only infuriated her. She could not get rid of this man. No matter what insult she threw at him, no matter what she did, he just kept coming back. He was a walking skin irritation.

Today was Saturday, she was free from work, and didn't have to leave her apartment until later on tonight. She awoke that morning in her long white night gown and her mane of red hair was a tangled mess. Pulling back the curtains to allow some natural light into the room, she wasn't the least bit surprised to see him sitting there. As if sensing her eyes on him he looked up and greeted her scowl with that stupid smile of his. She yanked the curtains closed. Damn him she thought does he not have a home to go to? He must if he finds the time to change his clothes.

To be rid of the eyesore that sat outside her window Rose decided she would have her breakfast with the Mitchells. Nancy and Charlie were an exciting couple that always seemed to be in a happy mood. Both of them were about in their early to middle thirties and have been married for eight years. They didn't have many visitors mostly because they were considered somewhat eccentric. When Rose had first moved in the couple had been eager to have a new neighbor, so eager in fact, that after a day of unpacking and getting settled in Rose answered a knock at the door and found the two of them standing there with two big smiles on their faces and a big chocolate cake with the words 'Welcome' drawn in white icing in the shape of a semicircle. The three of them were friends ever since.

Later on that morning Rose sat at the round kitchen table sipping tea with Nancy. Nancy was a small and slender woman with dark brown hair that rested on the tops of her shoulders and big expressive green eyes. Her small stature reminded Rose of a little pixie, all she needed was a set of wings. Her husband Charlie was completely opposite. He stood tall and strong, and he had big broad shoulders and bulging muscles that were evident through his buttoned brown shirt. His forearms were hairy right down to the knuckles. He had gray eyes, a black mutton chop for a beard, and neatly combed black hair. Charlie looked intimidating and was a big bear of a man but he had a gentle and loving nature, especially when it came to his little wife. The two of them looked odd standing next to each other. Nancy just barely made it to his chest and looked so small and frail, as if she would break from the slightest touch. Rose saw the way they looked at each other and she didn't have to be psychic to see the love they shared. She imagined that if Nancy asked him to, Charlie would fetch the sun and bring it down to her without hesitation. Sometimes she was envious of them and her thoughts would drift to Jack and the life they could've had together.

Charlie stood over at the kitchen countertop drinking his coffee and was reading a copy of today's paper.

"It was insane." Nancy laughed "Charlie burnt the roast for our fifth anniversary dinner; our entire apartment was filled with the smoke. I of course suggested that we go out to eat but he insisted." She knelt down to whisper in Rose's ear, "he can be a bit frugal sometimes when it comes to going out to restaurants."

Charlie cleared his throat but didn't look up from his paper. "I just don't see the point in spending the extra money. What's wrong with wanting to cook for my wife, not only is it a loving gesture but its also cheaper. So what if I'm not the best cook it's the thought that counts."

Both women giggled. "I know honey and I love you for it." Charlie gave her a look of mock anger but a smile cracked through his lips.

"Rose are you alright. You hardly touched your tea?" Rose took a small sip and ran her finger in a circular motion around the rim.

"I've just had a lot on my mind lately."

"It's that man that's been walking with you to work for the past week isn't it?"

"I should say he's a big part of it."

"You mean Jonathan?" Charlie asked cutting in.

"Who?" Rose asked

Charlie drank two more gulps of coffee. "Jonathan Calvert. He works down at the steel mill with me. He's one of our welders—or was at least. He was let go recently for not showing up for work although I don't think he knows it yet."

"Wait a minute you mean to say that that man's name is Jonathan Calvert?"

"That's right. But we all call him John. He's a nice fella, a real people person, got along with everyone, and never missed a day at work. It's strange the last time I saw him just so happened to be a few hours before your play Rose. Me and the rest of the boys were clocking out for the night, John said his goodbyes and told us all he'd see us in the morning. Haven't seen him since."

"Rose what's wrong?" Nancy asked.

"What happened to him?"

"That's what's even stranger. I was reading the paper the next day and apparently Jonathan was hit by a car that night."

Rose and Nancy looked at him in shock "My god." said Nancy. "What?" asked Rose.

"'Fraid so. But it wasn't the fact that he was hit by the car that was strange, it was the manner in which he was hit. A lot of the spectators believed that he should've died after that. The car came seemingly out of nowhere. People have said that he looked to have suffered from a fractured skull, the left side of his face was badly bloodied and bruised, and his arm had been torn completely out of its socket it was a pretty gory sight."

"But that's impossible you saw him yourself. He looks fine."

"I know, that's the point, a few minutes before the medics arrived, John was up again and there wasn't a scratch on him. He took off as if nothing had happened."

"That is strange." said Nancy

"I think I still have the paper around here somewhere, I'll be right back."

Nancy took a hold of her friend's hand. "Rose are you okay? Your hands are shaking."

"What? Oh yes, I'm fine."

"You know you're always welcome to stay here if you need to."

"No I'm okay, besides you and Charlie are married and I don't want to intrude."

"Well, Rose if you ask me if Jonathan is giving you some trouble then maybe you should notify the authorities, come to think of it why haven't you?"

"Believe me I've thought about doing so but…."

"But what?"

Rose pulled some of her hair back behind her ear. "There is something about him…something I can't describe. He says he knows me and that I know him."

"Rose you're an actress, chances are some people are bound to know you. Do you know him?"

"Of course not. I've never seen him before. But he insists that I do and he doesn't call himself Jonathan he says his name is…"

"What?"

Rose didn't want to say his name. Jack was a private part of her life and yet the Mitchells have been so kind to her she almost felt bad for not telling them the truth about herself. Upon their first meeting when asked about her past Rose gave them the vague answer that she ran away from home when she was 17 and since then she never looked back. She was thankful that neither of them asked anymore questions after that. Nancy had been such a good friend and was an open book about her life while Rose remained closed up, weaving around certain truths. She supposed she could speak his name, she could share that much. Nancy did not need to know the significance of it. Maybe one day she would tell her the truth but not now.

"He says his name is Jack Dawson."

"Jack Dawson?"

Rose nodded. "He was hit by a car Rose the man is deranged, he must have suffered from some head trauma and forgotten who he really was."

Rose had already thought about that, but it still didn't explain how he knew that name. She had read about incidents such as those before and the man certainly didn't act like a victim of such a traumatic experience. He seemed coherent and honest in his conviction that he was in fact Jack Dawson. He truly believed that that was who he was. If he suffered head trauma how is it that out of all the names he had given himself he landed on that one. There were only two logical explanations, either this man really was crazy, suffered from memory loss, and by mere coincidence knew of the name Jack Dawson, or plain and simple, he was telling the truth. But could that really be possible, her long dead lover at last returned to her. Rose was afraid to open herself up to that possibility. What if she was wrong? Her heart would not be able to endure such pain.

"Here it is; I found it!" Charles called from the other room. His hard soled boots thumped against the wooden floor as he walked back into the kitchen and placed the paper before Rose. He stood back placing a hand on his wife's shoulder while taking another sip of coffee.

Rose set down her tea and looked down at the paper and there he was on the front cover

Local Town Man Hit by Passing Vehicle, Raised from the Dead

Although it cannot be properly explained, spectators claim it to be true. A local town man who has been identified as Jonathan Calvert, a steel worker of the Hercules Steel Company was hit by an oncoming car late Monday night. A horrific sight indeed, those who have seen the incident have reported that it had been a head on collision that forced Calvert into a backwards somersault landing on his neck causing it to break, along with a fractured skull, and a dislocated arm. Medics were called immediately to the site but many shocked onlookers feared it was much too late and Calvert was presumed dead. A few moments before they arrived Calvert shocked everyone when he leapt to his feet completely unharmed and took off running, leaving behind a ticket for a play at the Hillman Theater, most popularly known as the Actor's Playhouse.

Rose couldn't stop looking at the paper. What in the world was going on?

"Rose, if John is truly giving you any trouble," Charlie said as Rose continued to read silently, "I could give him a good talking to for you. I will vouch for him though that I don't think he means you any harm. He is a good man even if his mind might be a little scrambled right now."

Rose didn't know what to believe. One minute he was Jack Dawson, the next minute she finds out that his name was actually Jonathan Calvert, victim of a car accident and possible head trauma. According to the paper he was no doubt on his way to see her play when the accident happened. Maybe he was truly an insane madman who was stalking her and Charlie didn't know him as well as he thought. She didn't want to believe that. When she looked into that man's eyes she felt something there. She felt her own heart reaching out to him and an overwhelming need building inside of her. It was all too much to take in.

All of these thoughts were giving her a headache.

"Thank you both for the tea, I'm going to go back to my room and lay down; my head is throbbing."

Jack had returned to his own apartment after a while of waiting outside of Rose's home. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. A week had already passed and he hadn't made much progress with Rose. He was tired and irritated. This whole trip felt as if it were for nothing and he couldn't help but feel bad for taking this man's body. Jack had spent a lot of time in Jonathan's home just trying to get a feel for who the guy was and everything he was about. It still felt strange to look into the mirror and not see his own reflection looking back at him. He felt a little foolish to admit that he was somewhat jealous of Jonathan; the guy was well built from years of work. Jack assumed that when Jonathan was alive he probably didn't have any problems with the women. There was a black and white photograph seated beside his bed. It was a picture of Jonathan with his arms around a much older man and woman, whom Jack could only assume were his parents. In front of Jonathan was a small girl with her arms wrapped around his waist smiling at the camera with a few missing teeth, his sister maybe?

Jack started rummaging through some of Jonathan's things and found letters from home. Some of them were letters asking how he was doing and if he was well, asking why he hardly ever writes, and when he plans to bring home grandchildren. This man had a family, a good life, and people that loved him. Jack felt as though he had robbed him of that. He had no one, save for Rose, and she didn't even know who he was. That was when he made his decision. Jack decided he would call the whole deal off. Later tonight after Rose's play he would try once more to help her see the truth and if she denied him again he would call for Morana to take him. He would leave her alone and never bother her again as she wished. He would also ask Morana to return Jonathan back to his body.