Chapter 6 – Sunday
"Oh, Jack. You idiot! What on earth were you thinking?"
"I know, Rose. I'm sorry."
"Don't say you know! Tell me what compelled you to do something so stupid!"
He had just met up with Rose, his relief at finding her safe turning quickly into deep regret as he told her about his and Fabrizio's failed attempt to retrieve her coat from the first class stateroom.
"I didn't think anyone would be there. We saw your mother leave just before we went in, and I remembered that Cal would be on that tour of the ship. You know? The one you were on before I pulled you into the gym?"
"Jack. We read my obituary yesterday, remember? The man's not going to take some stupid tour of the ship. He has to keep up appearances! He's going to need to be the perfect picture of a fiance in mourning."
"Oh," was all Jack could say, meekly.
"Plus, we went to all that trouble to get me to blend in. Do you really think it would be wise for me to undo all that by wearing that conspicuous bright pink coat?"
"Shit. I wasn't thinking."
"Look," she said, finally looking him square in the face – the face she had dreamt of for decades – and backing down from her angry stance. "I think I know why you did it. You said you wanted to keep me safe. But it's just a coat, Jack. I'll be perfectly fine with the blankets. The only thing that will really keep me safe is having you beside me, and you put that at risk."
"Yes," he admitted. "I did. And I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry for shouting at you," she said, her voice now even, though still serious.
"Oh, believe me, I deserved it," he said.
"You did, didn't you?" she laughed, very tentatively, before the solemness in her voice returned and overtook any humor. "I'm glad you're safe. Remember yesterday I said we'd have to be sharper in order to get through today? Please just promise me you won't do anything so stupid again, okay? At least not until we're back on dry land." If we make it that far.
"I won't do anything anywhere near so stupid. I promise." He tentatively reached out to brush her upper arm. "I am sorry."
"I know," she smiled. "For now, we have a more pressing matter to worry about."
"What's that?"
"We have to find a way to rescue Fabrizio. I was just thinking earlier that we needed an excuse to get into that room with all the keys to unlock the gates before tonight."
He took her hand then, pulling her in closer, with a question on his face. She smiled up at him and he captured her lips in a searing kiss. He wasn't sure if all was forgiven, but at least it was forgotten. They both had a short temper sometimes, but neither of them were the kind to hold a grudge. He knew he had a little bit of ground to make up, a scratch on the surface of her trust for him, but he had meant it when he said he wouldn't be so stupid again.
"Well," he said, as they broke apart. "You're clearly the more rational one between us. How should we fix this?"
"I don't know if it's quite true that I'm the more rational one," she said. "But I'm glad it's we that is going to fix it and not just you. Let me see if I can remember how to get to that room."
"Wait, Rose," he said. "We don't know who will be there. Will you put on Fabrizio's hat again? And maybe change back into another pair of my trousers? It may not work quite as well in the daylight, but it's better than nothing."
"Sure," she said, noticing the charcoal set at the top of Jack's open bag. "Do you – do you think you could draw some five-o-clock shadow on me? I'm not sure if it would sell the bachelor look any more than Fabrizio's hat, but it might obscure my face a little?"
He gave her a strange look, but still picked up a piece of charcoal in compliance and held it up near her cheek.
"I've never done this on a person before," he said, his face serious, but with a glimmer of a laugh behind his eyes. He ran a calloused thumb across her upper lip, followed by the charcoal in his other hand. He held the back of her neck steady and made the first few marks.
As he drew back to get a better look at what he had drawn, he couldn't help himself. Loud laughter burst through his lips.
"What is it, Jack? How do I look with a mustache?
"If I knew how you looked with a mustache, I'd answer that," he said. "It just looks like someone drew on your face with a crayon. Here, see for yourself."
She turned towards the mirror that he had reattached to the wall late the night before, and gasped.
"You're right. It doesn't look anything like five-o-clock shadow. I look like a cartoon character."
"What do you think, my worst work ever?"
"I hate to say it, Jack," she said through laughter, as she caught another glimpse of herself in the mirror. "But you might be right."
She buried her face in his shoulder, trying to steady herself from her fits of laughter each time she remembered her appearance – dressed in mens trousers altered into pencil skirt with her hair hidden under a newsboy cap and charcoal lines all over her face. Jack couldn't help but meet her laughter with his own and they forgot any lingering anger she had, they forgot the rescue mission at hand, they even forgot just where they were and what day it was. But they only forgot for a moment.
"Let me wash this off," she said. "And change back into real trousers. Then let's go get Fabrizio."
She pulled back from Jack and started towards the now-familiar basin. But before she could turn all the way around, she noticed the smudged charcoal on Jack's shirt, in the spot where she had been leaning against his shoulder.
"Oh, Jack. Your shirt. I'm so sorry."
He looked down for a split second to notice the smudge, and started to speak, to reassure her that it certainly wasn't the first time he had a charcoal stain on his shirt, until he looked up to see Rose's face.
"Uh, Rose. It might actually work now."
She glanced back in the mirror and saw that the charcoal had smudged on her face, too, turning what had looked like cartoonish, drawn-on facial hair, into what just looked like dirt from a hard day's work outside.
"Here," he said, adjusting some of her hair that had fallen out of place back underneath the cap, and using his sleeve to smudge some of the charcoal on her other cheek. "You look about 14 years old, but you're believable as a newsboy or a coal miner."
She was about to retort when a clock soberingly chimed four times in the distance. They were running out of time.
Quickly, and without fanfare, Jack handed her his last remaining pair of trousers, and she pulled them on. She caught herself in the mirror as they left the stateroom, agreeing with Jack that she made a convincing boy. Until she was hit with a sudden memory. Women and children! We'll have women and children first! Sardonically, she silently congratulated herself on picking the worst possible disguise.
–
The corridors were much more lively today than they had been the last time she made her way to the Master at Arms' office. People were moving in all directions – back to their stateroom after a day of playing cards or exploring the ship, or headed to an early dinner with their family. Rose led the way, Jack only a step behind her, as they weaved their way through the small crowd.
She didn't remember how to get there, not exactly anyway, but she knew she'd remember just what the door looked like from the outside. They made several wrong turns, ending up in several dead ends. Jack followed her, trying to maintain his usual optimism, but she could sense the fear coming off of him in waves.
Suddenly, a new thought occurred to her, and she made a mental note to bring it up with Jack. She thought of how much trouble she was having navigating the below deck corridors, and remembered how much harder it had been trying to do it as they flooded. Maybe while they were unlocking the gates, they could go around drawing arrows on the walls, indicating the best ways to get up to the deck.
"I'm sorry, Jack. I wish I remembered exactly where it was. But I'll find it."
"I know you will. I'm not worried about that. It's just – and maybe this should have occurred to me before, but I just realized we'll be seeing that room again. That was the worst part for me, stuck there, waiting to slip under. When we were up on deck there was at least a little more I could do."
She fully stopped then, pulling him into a tight embrace. How had she missed that?
"You don't have to do this," she whispered. "I can go get Fabrizio and meet you back at the stateroom."
"No," he said, tentatively, and then more firmly. "No, you were right earlier that what we both need more than anything else right now is to stick together. Just – Just give me a second. I'll be all right."
"You don't have to be all right, Jack. Don't hide your feelings away on my account."
He leaned his face into the crook of her neck and gently nodded. He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could, both of them afraid to let go. "I know. I love you, Rose," he whispered, kissing her hard on her temple. "Thank you for that. Now let's go save Fabrizio."
"Are you sure you're ready?"
"I'm ready for anything as long as you're here," he said, brushing his lips over hers, before pulling back with a refreshed determination.
Now that they had been down so many dead ends, Rose thought she might be so turned around she'd accidentally gone down one of the wrong turns they had already tried. But, just as they started walking again, they turned a corner to a wider hallway, one that looked impossibly familiar. They were only a matter of steps away from Fabrizio, they keys to unlock the gates, and whatever other ghosts lingered in that room.
As they stood in front of the door, Jack looked as white as a sheet, but spoke with a soft stoicism she recognized. "I'll check to see if he's in there," he said, pointing to the small window on the door.
"Let me do it," she said, balancing against the door and standing on the tips of her toes to get a good look at the room through the window. She recognized Fabrizio's back on the far side of the room, in a similar pose to how she had found Jack. For just a moment, her vision changed and it was Jack standing there instead, icy water swirling around the floor. She blinked, blindly reaching for Jack's hand, which he took in silent understanding. As she blinked again, Fabrizio reappeared, with another man she didn't recognize sitting at the desk.
"Is he in there?" Jack whispered, as she leaned back to look at him.
"Yes," she said. "There's someone else in there, too. The Master at Arms, I think."
"Is he – is he handcuffed?"
"I can't tell for sure. He's sitting with his back to the door. But I think so."
"Goddamnit," Jack said, under his breath. "This is all my fault. Let me see."
Rose stepped aside, allowing him access to the small window. But she knew better than to let go of his hand, which was gripping hers so tightly she wondered if his fingernails might draw blood. She watched as he tentatively peered into the room, before ducking back down almost immediately.
"Shit!" he shouted. "You're right. It is the Master at Arms. He turned around just as I was getting a glimpse of the room. I'm not sure if he saw me."
"Over there," she said, spotting a bench after looking frantically around the hallway for a hiding place. "Let's sit down and act natural, like we're just having a conversation."
They rushed over to the bench, still catching their breath when the door they had been watching swung open. A burly man stepped out and looked both directions. Jack half-recognized him from earlier that afternoon, when he had seen him in hallway with Cal and Fabrizio as he fled first class. But, he more fully recognized him from this same night, years ago, when he had been the one imprisoned. If the man recognized him, though, he didn't show any sign of it.
"Hey, you. Was there someone here just now?"
"I think he went that way," said Jack, as he pointed down the opposite way. "But I wasn't really paying attention."
"How about you, kid? Did you see someone?"
For the second time this week, Rose trained her voice to be as deep as she could possibly make it. "Uh, yeah, there was someone outside your door just now. A man, I think, but I didn't see where he got off to."
The man grunted and turned on his heel in the opposite direction. As soon as he turned the corner, out of sight, Jack and Rose raced into action, hurrying into the small room before either of them could think better of it.
"Who's that?" said Fabrizio as he turned around, at least as much as he could, with one arm chained to the pipe. As they got closer, and got a better look of each other, he spoke again, in disbelief. "Rose? I only recognized you because of my hat."
"Yes, it's me," she said, and Jack stepped out from behind her and embraced his friend. "We've come to get you out of here, but we have to hurry."
"I am sorry that I could not get your coat for you, Rose. Your dad is quite the, uh, how do you say? Piece of work."
"My dad? Oh, Cal? He's not my dad. But you are right about him being, as Jack would say, no picnic."
"That's what I said about you," Jack said, winking. "He, on the other hand, is a downright son of a bitch. Fabri, is there a key to these handcuffs?"
"I, uh, I think that man brought it with him when he left."
"Okay," he said. "Let's see if there's a spare one over here." As he walked over to the same cabinet Rose had shuffled through, he lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Do you remember what the key looked like? The one that one officer dropped that we used to open the gate?"
"No, not exactly," she said, in an equally low voice. "Should we just take them all?"
"No," he said. "The more we take, the more obvious it is that some are missing. And since Fabrizio was the only one in here, we don't want him getting blamed if they notice any keys are gone unexpectedly."
"You're right," she whispered, trying to picture once again the image of the key the officer had held, and running her fingers over several keys, trying to feel if there was any familiarity in their touch. "I think it had kind of a long blade? A little bit like this one," she said. "Or maybe this one?"
Jack grabbed both keys she had indicated, along with a few of his own selections and slid them into his pocket.
"Is there anything over there?" asked Fabrizio.
"I'm sorry, Fabri," said Jack. "I'm not seeing anything. We'll go get some—"
"Wait," said Rose, taking off Fabrizio's hat, her bright red hair suddenly visible.
"Rose, what are you doing? What if someone comes in and sees you?"
"We'll have to move quickly. Jack, can you see if you can find a hair pin and take it out?"
He rushed over to her, fingers hovering above the pins she had used to fashion her hair into a messy style, or at least enough of one to keep her hair hidden beneath the hat. He hit on one near the nape of her neck, where he hoped he could remove one without threatening the structural integrity of the rest of her style. He swiftly removed it, letting a few newly loose strands of hair fly away, but seemingly without causing it all to fall down. He handed the pin to her, and she rushed over to hand it to Fabrizio.
"Do you think this will work?" She asked, showing Fabrizio the pin just as she inserted it into the lock, trying to maneuver it into the right position to trigger the unlocking mechanism. She had only heard stories of this being done, had never actually tried it herself. But after what could have been dozens of tries to find the right angle, she was starting to think that it might not be possible after all.
"Someone is coming," said Fabrizio, and Rose paused her movements with the hair pin just long enough to perk her ear towards the door, hearing the same footsteps Fabrizio must have.
"Why don't you give me the pin and I'll keep working on it?" he said. "I'll meet you back in the room as soon as I'm free. One hour, tops!" Cheer returned to his voice as he finished speaking, as if he was eager to prove he could get out of this with the hairpin.
Rose glanced over at Jack, trying to read how he would react. Do we even have one hour? She tried to ask, silently.
With time running out, she glanced back at Fabrizio, wondering if it actually were possible for him to get out of the handcuffs with just a hair pin. At least he had one hand free, unlike it had been with Jack. Maybe stealing a diamond came with a harsher sentence than stealing a coat. But, then again, Jack's real crime had been winning her heart, and the sentence for that was the harshest of them all. Her vision blinked yet again, and there was Jack, both hands chained to this pipe, looking up at her with total trust as she held the axe, aloft.
"All right," came Jack's voice from behind her, startling her out of her memory. He took Rose's hand and started to retreat. "We'll see you in the stateroom. But if you're not back in an hour, we'll come get you. You don't want to miss that – that meteor shower, do you?" She heard an almost imperceptible croak in his voice as he lied about the meteor shower, one that she would have missed entirely if she hadn't heard it once before, so long ago, on this same night, when he told her they were getting the boats organized.
As soon as they were out of the room, they heard the footsteps growing louder. Adrenaline kicked in, and they broke into a run towards the room. Jack still held the hat that Rose had removed in his hand, and the tendrils of her hair were starting to fly out of the remaining pins. She chanced a tentative look back to see if they were being followed. There was no one directly on their tail, but the heavy footsteps thundered not too far off in the distance. She took Jack's hand once again and led them, as fast as their feet would go, towards the stateroom.
With each corner they turned, she made a silent wish they were headed in the right direction and not turned around again. We really do need to think about drawing arrows on the walls, she thought, realizing that adrenaline was the only thing keeping them going – they had no sense of how much further to go, or if they were going in the right direction.
The sound of footsteps intensified, and then fell back, and then intensified again. She had no idea who they belonged to, or if they were even following them. But in the choice between run or let the unknown footsteps catch up to them, there was really only one option.
They ran, faster than she had run in decades, their hands clasped as tightly as possible, blindly turning corners and listening for the footsteps. They doubled back after each dead end they reached, silently signaling to each other which direction to try next.
As they entered the main hallway, the one Rose had walked down just yesterday morning towards the wash room, she saw a flash of an officer's uniform out of the corner of her eye. She chanced a glance back, wondering if the footsteps that seemed to be following them indeed belonged to the Master at Arms who had seen their attempt to free Fabrizio. But before she could turn all the way around, Jack nudged her shoulder and pointed straight ahead.
"There!" he shouted. "I recognize that hallway."
By the time they arrived back at Jack's room, nearly all of her hair had fallen out of its style and hung limply around her shoulders. Breathing heavily from the exertion, Jack let them in the front door, before they collapsed into each other, with palpable relief at making it back unscathed.
As their breathing regulated, Jack looked over to see that the two Swedish men had, once again, returned to the room. This time, however, it was clear that he and Rose were the subject of their attention, as they were staring back at the pair, mouths agape.
After a beat, Gustav and his friend turned to each other and spoke in low, rapid Swedish. Even considering that, less than 48 hours ago, she had needed to speak passable Swedish in order to keep her identity hidden, she still had never wished to understand Swedish more than she did in this very moment. After a brief, clipped conversation, the pair hastily exited through the front door, but not before taking one suspicious look back at Rose.
"Shit," they said, nearly in unison, before sitting down on the bed, too tired to consider if the two Swedes had recognized her and what it would mean if they had. Exhaustion from the emotional day was beginning to overtake them. But the day was not over. Not even close.
"How long should we wait for Fabrizio before going back for that ax?" She asked, nuzzling into her familiar position by his side and already starting to feel more comfortable, less anxious. "It doesn't feel right just waiting here, but we did say we'd give him an hour to meet us back here."
"How long do you think we have?" he countered.
"I don't know. At least an hour. Not too much more than that.?"
"Do you think the sun is still up?" His question was quiet, almost subdued. The last time Titanic ever saw daylight. She remembered that stunning sunset, as if it had been a final goodbye from the world above, and wondered herself if it had happened yet, tonight. But that wasn't all. It was also the last time Jack had ever seen daylight. Jack, who had been her very own sunshine, her light in the dark. He had burned as brightly as the fire in the sky, but his light had been snuffed out this very night, as slowly and as suddenly as the sun sinking below the water, plunging the world around her into darkness.
"We'll see the sunrise again," she said, her fingers stroking the back of his hand. "We both will, or neither of us will."
Jack interlaced his fingers between hers and brought their joined hands up to his mouth to kiss.
"Both of us, or neither of us. You jump, I jump," he repeated.
They didn't speak at all for a while, reassured in the promise that, no matter what, they would face what was coming together. Both thinking about what it would mean if they both survived and what it would mean if they didn't. Rose's thoughts lingered a little on the sunset, wishing it would have worked out for them to see it again, tonight.
Leaning up, she kissed him, just like she had kissed him underneath that sunset, madly, deeply, freely, without any restraint or thought of anything in the world that wasn't him. She opened her mouth, silently begging him to slide his tongue in, and he obeyed, pulling back for a fraction of a second only to claim her with his open mouth once again, their lips dancing for what could have been a lifetime.
"What was that for?" he asked, as she broke the kiss but didn't separate from him.
"Do I need a reason?" she brushed one of her hands through his hair before resting it against his chest. "But, really, I was just thinking that tonight was the first time you ever kissed me. I wanted to – I wanted to mark the occasion. It took me a long time to think of this night as anything other than the worst night of my life," she continued. "Years. For years, the only thing I could manage to do was build up my cocoon, trying to keep the pain of tonight away. But it also kept out the good memories. The ones that – us in the past? Some other version of us in a different world? I don't really know. The memories we lived right now, tonight. Those were some of the happiest – the most important hours of my life. I suppose – I suppose I didn't want them to go unacknowledged."
"Rose," he nearly croaked her name, his voice thick with emotion. "Tonight was absolutely the happiest of my life."
She pulled him in for another kiss, whispering "I love you, Jack," against his lips, seconds before they joined together. "I love you," she said, again, firmly, trying to convey just how deeply within herself she felt those words, as they slipped apart.
They stayed, locked in an embrace, kissing occasionally, but mainly just holding each other, reassuring themselves that the other was solid, for what could have been forever.
"Should we," Jack began, clearly hesitant to break the fragile moment. "Should we go check on Fabrizio?"
"Yes, I think it's time," she said, solemnly, as she stood up. "Let me wash what's left of the charcoal off my face and change back into the skirt. Do you still have those keys we took?"
Jack withdrew them from his pocket, showing her he still had them, just as she was rinsing the last of the charcoal off her face.
"Will you also bring a piece of charcoal? It's only half an idea, but I was thinking that, while we're unlocking the gates, we could also draw arrows on the wall so that people can find their way out."
"Sure," he said, pocketing a piece of charcoal. "That's a good idea. Do we know the way out, though?"
"That's why it's only half an idea," she said, squeezing his hand. "But maybe once we make it up to the top, if there's time, we can go back and retrace our steps."
He nodded his agreement while she grabbed the scarf to re-tie around her hair, as he picked up all four blankets off the beds. They took a final glance around the room to make sure they weren't missing anything that would keep them safe. Finally satisfied that they were as prepared as they could possibly be, they left the room, hand in hand.
–
The clock was sounding again as they made their way to the first of the locked gates. Jack stopped, counting each chime as it passed, willing with each chime that another wouldn't follow it.
Bong. Six.
Bong. Seven.
Bong. Eight.
Eight-o-clock. Rose had said she knew the ship was gone by 2:30 in the morning and she thought she remembered the initial iceberg strike was around eleven. They had three hours.
Bong. Nine.
They had two hours. Two hours to unlock the gates, to free Fabrizio once and for all, and to make their way up to the top deck and await their fate.
Jack wondered what he and Rose – the other Jack and Rose, the ones living their happiest memories, unaware of what was to pass – would be doing right now. The drawing must be done by now. Would they be running around in the boiler room? Would they have made it to the cargo hold yet?
He glanced over at Rose, standing at the gate with a key in her hand, sporting just the tiniest hint of blush on her cheeks. Had she been thinking along the same lines? But all thoughts of that other night were cast aside as he watched her try the first key. She successfully pressed the key into the lock, trying to turn it, gently at first, before closing her eyes and turning with as much force as she could muster, before resignedly pulling out the key and moving on to the next one.
On the third key she tried, he heard the sound of a lock unlatching. She looked down at her hands, as if she had surprised even herself managing to unlock the gate, and let out a small whoop of excitement, before running over to Jack, his own excitement mirrored in her face.
"Hold on to that key," he said. "Let's unlock the rest on our way to Fabrizio. Do you remember where you found that ax?"
"I think so," and she led them down an empty hallway, only half-familiar without the flooding and flickering lights. Just as they had walked about as far as she thought she remembered that night, stopping only to unlock any gates they came upon, a voice sounded behind them.
"Jack! Rose!"
"Fabrizio!" they shouted in unison, turning around and rushing to check that he was all right. "We were so worried about you," Rose added.
"How did you get out?" asked Jack.
"That man. The, uh, Master of Arms, came back only a minute after you both left. He just sat there and stared at me for such a long time. But as soon as the dinner bell rang, he left in a hurry. It was then that I pulled that pin you gave me out of my sleeve. It took a little bit of time, but I freed myself a few minutes ago and came looking for you."
All three took turns hugging, relieved to have gotten out mostly unscathed. At least so far.
"Let's go upstairs," said Jack, offering one of the blankets they had brought to Fabrizio. "We brought you a blanket."
"You took the blanket off my bed?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah. We brought everything warm from the room."
"Jack," Fabrizio said, his eyes looking tired. "I know I said I would come watch the meteore with you. But it's been a very long day, no? I hope you both enjoy them. Please tell me all about them in the morning."
"What?" was all Jack could get out. But Rose spoke up simultaneously. "Oh, Fabrizio, you have to come!"
"It is so late. I am so tired. Please, send my regard to the stars."
Rose moved to speak up once more, but Jack squeezed her hand. Silently telling her to stop fighting.
"Look, we can't force you to come, but we hope you'll join us. Maybe after you get a little sleep," he said, handing Fabrizio the blanket again, this time as a peace offering. "Just, take this and stay warm."
"Grazie, Jack. Buona notte."
"Ciao," said Jack, hoping with everything he had it wouldn't be the last thing he said to his friend. "Buona notte."