THE SILENCE
Chapter Four
Jack stood open mouthed and stared at the
officer.
"Oh please excuse us," the officer
apologized. "As you probably know, the young lady is still missing.
Captains orders, we have to search every where. Terribly sorry for the
inconvenience."
"Yes, yes, no problem," Jack
stammered. His heart was thudding so loudly he thought the officer would hear
it.
"I must ask if you have seen or heard
anything of the lady in question, Miss Dewitt Bukater?"
Jack numbly shook his head.
"If you hear or see anything, please call
an officer or steward."
Jack numbly nodded.
The officer touched his cap, motioned to the
stewards and left, thinking the blonde man must be slightly simple. Jack heard
them knock on the next cabin door and a jangle of keys. He sank onto his bunk.
Would this fear never leave him? He rubbed his forehead and eyes and sighed. He
picked up his portfolio and flicked through the front of it. It contained
pictures, portraits, fleeting windows into his life. He had seen the world,
well a good portion of it. Not bad for an orphan with no money. How surprised
they would be back home in Chippewa Falls. They said he wouldn't get out of
Wisconsin. But he had. He had triumphed over so many obstacles, just to end up
like this. A frightened child.
"It's not my fault," he tried to
reason with himself. "I didn't make her jump. I tried to stop her. There
was nothing I could do." Suddenly it was like years rolled back. He could
remember using almost the same words to himself as he sat beside the charred
remains of the family house. Sitting blackened and wretched on the grass, he
tried to tell himself that it wasn't his fault the fire had started, that he
tried to stop his father going back in and the most cruelest sentence of all:
"There was nothing I could do." The memories came flooding back, like
an emotional tide. Jack felt his eyes sting with tears and for the first time
since, he buried his head into his pillow and sobbed like a child.
All the pent up tears from the past years
were released. Jack was almost in shock from the outburst of grief. He had
never cried like this at his parents funeral, he never realized he was capable
of such raw emotion. He gasped for breath, a pain in his chest from sobbing. He
sat up, still shocked and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He suddenly
realized why he felt so afraid of going back to America. It was the same reason
he couldn't wait to escape from America. He never faced his parent's death and
had been running away from the reality of it all these years.
He reopened his portfolio at the back. There
were some papers tied with a ribbon to keep them together and to stop them
falling out. He stroked the ribbon and smiled weakly at the memory of the girl
he had stolen it from. Taking a deep breath, he untied the ribbon for the first
time in years and gently removed the drawings. Slowly he forced himself to look
at them one by one.
Some were drawings done before the fire that
had been given back to Jack, some he did just after, before the darkness fell
over his heart and he was unable to recall or draw things as they had been.
Each one felt like a shard of glass in his soul. But he carried on looking at
them, following the lines and detail, recalling when each drawing was done.
Some were very early on, before his technique developed, but to Jack they were
as clear as photographs, transporting him back to a moment in time, a long time
ago.
Water welled in his eyes, a single tear
falling down his cheek as he searched through the closed areas of memories. He
remembered his mother's scent, the roughness of his father hands, the smell of
cooking in the kitchen, the hay in the barn. All these were things he had
locked away, refusing to go back there, denying their existence.
Now Jack realized just how much he missed his
parents and those little things that provided a link to them. He realized he
had spent so many years wandering alone, when he didn't need to. He was never
alone, his parents had always been there, he just wouldn't let them in.
He didn't know how long he had sat with his
thoughts and pictures. He got up and splashed his face with cold water. His
mind wandered back to Rose. Whatever her problems, she couldn't cope anymore.
But he been given a second chance.
Feeling slighter lighter in his heart, he
went up on deck and sat on a bench looking out over the endless sea. He was so
engrossed he didn't notice little Cora come and sit beside him.
"Are you Ok Jackie?" she asked.
"You look sad."
"No, I'm OK Cora," he smiled.
"I'm going home."
A bell ringing loudly somewhere on the ship
and noise of a commotion took their attention. Jack stood and looked around to
see what was going on. Cora's father hurried over and protectively picked up
his daughter.
"There's ice ahead Jack, they are
turning the ship again."