Written by Ella
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
A/N: The poem Lament is
by I. Holt.
He is gone with his blue eyes,
Whom I love most,
Gone among the cliffs and fog
On a far coast,
He who scatters wit and pride
From his keen tongue,
He who finds himself so deep
And is so young;
He whose joy is in sweet words
And kindliness.
"Make each day count,"
Jack had said. Rose vowed she would. She did not and could not understand why
Jack was taken from her, but she made a promise to never let go. At first she
could not understand his words. Never let go of what? Was there a deeper
meaning? Yes. There must be, she thought. Never let go of his memory,
she decided. And do the things I want, whatever that may be. I’ll be an
actress. Ride a horse bareback. Fly in one of those airplanes. Even spit like a
man! Get married and have children. And name one of them-- She wanted to
say Jack, but the name still brought pain to her heart. She thought back to
just a week ago…
Whom old men love, and little
boys
No whit the less...
Rooms are silent that were glad
Seven days ago.
I can feel across my heart
The great tides flow.
She ran with Jack from Lovejoy,
her fiancé’s lapdog, as she liked to think of him, down to third class and
through a long corridor. A sharp turn--he found a door, and they went inside as
fast as the could. Down to the boiler rooms, the sweaty men toiled and slaved
in front of the furnaces, shoveling heaps of coal, black as night into the
fire. The color of Rose’s wild hair whipping around her face as she ran, her
hand entwined in his. He found a door and dragged her through it. The had found
an Aladdin’s Cave of treasures. She seemed unfazed by it. But then she spied
the car out of the corner of her eye. Not yet eighteen, she had the sort of
playful idea she would have had as a child. Jack was too busy marveling at the
glorious car. Rose cleared her throat. Jack turned to her. He smiled. Catches
on quickly, she thought. Rose held out her delicate hand as she was taught
from a young age and in the proper etiquette of the day. He took it and led her
into the car.
Jack sat in the front seat and
jovially honked the horn. "Where to, miss?" asked Jack in a refined
way that Rose had heard many times before from her mother Ruth’s own driver.
Rose leaned in and whispered,
"To the stars," in Jack’s ear. She pulled him through the glass
separating them, man and woman, class and distinction.
Jack held her. "Are you
nervous?" he asked.
She searched his blue eyes, so
kind. "No," was Rose’s whispered reply. She kissed Jack’s
fingers--her artist’s fingers. "Put your hands on me, Jack." And he
complied. He put his hand on her breast. Then he kissed her. Soon the car was
steamy, and in a fit of passion, Rose pressed her palm against the back window
of the car. She surrendered to him.
Love, the blind importunate,
Craves touch and sight;
Briefly parting, feels and fears
Eternal night.
Jack lay on top of Rose, both
warm and content. By now Jack was cold and trembling--even though both were
underneath his coat--and Rose told him so. They were, after all, in the very
bottom of the ship--the only thing between them and the water was steel. She
loved him and he loved her. That was all that mattered now. Not class, not
money, not social standing--nothing but love. Rose pressed his head to her
chest. They stayed like that for a while. It was a moment Rose kept with her
until the end.
Fear is sweeping on the wind
Like acrid foam.
I have said farewell to peace
‘Til he comes home.
But will I really be able to
do all those things? thought
Rose. I made a promise. I have to. For Jack…make each day count. Jack’s
words reverberated in her head and echoed back and forth again. She would see
him again. She knew it. No matter how scared she was or how much she missed
him, she would keep her promise to never let go and to never give up.
The End.