In Your Arms Tonight

Memories (Rose)

I closed my eyes and the memories flooded back. I heard the desperate cries for help, felt the sharp knives of the freezing water all over my body.

And memories of him.

Jack...

It had been five years since the Titanic sank. Five years since the majestic liner ship carried its passengers on that fateful night to the horrific experience that would change everyone aboard, no matter their social status, race, or age.

I looked down at the script in my hand. After the Titanic sank and I arrived to New York, I found a job in a small theater. The roles were always pretty small, but it made a living. But now, I was starring in a play. This was my first major role. I had barely gotten my script and was rehearsing my lines.

"Rose," someone said, snapping me back to the present. I looked up and saw my friend and fellow actor, Charlie. He looked at me with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I assured him, but he wasn't convinced.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I shook my head lightly.

"No, not really," I said, looking at the floor. I hadn't told anyone that I had been on the Titanic yet and I really wasn't planning on telling anyone in the future. I wanted to leave that in the past.

"Listen, Rose, I've been meaning to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere with me?" My head jerked up as I heard him.

"I-I...uh," I stammered.

"Not like a date or anything, I was just wondering if you wanted to come check out a new art exhibit in town. I know you like art and, well, they have some really cool pieces of art there. There's going to be really neat pieces of ships and boats," he added with a smile. Charlie loved ships and boats, big or small. He liked sailing and often talked about fishing with his father and older brother when he was younger. He was fascinated with the engineering, technology, and elegance of grand ships. After the horror I experienced aboard the Titanic, I wasn't too thrilled about seeing a whole exhibit filled with paintings of ships.

"Oh," I said, "I don't know Charlie, I'm not feeling so well..."

"C'mon Rose. You need to get out. Ever since I met you, all you do is work and when you're done, you just go back home. Come with me, please. I assure you we'll have fun," Charlie said. I looked at his pleading eyes and sighed softly.

"Okay," I answered hesitantly.

Later that day, after we finished rehearsing a few scenes for the play, Charlie and I headed over to the art exhibit. As we neared it, my whole body felt numb and heavy. A small portion of the exhibit was filled with drawings and paintings of a ship. The Titanic. I breathed deeply as I felt tears start to well up in my eyes. Of course, I thought, I just had to come today when the theme is the Titanic. Just great. I thought about the date. It was April 15, 1917. Exactly five years since the ship sank.

"Are you okay, Rose?" Charlie asked, a tone of concern in his voice.

"I'm okay," I said. I took another deep breath before we proceeded into the exhibit. We walked around, looking at the paintings and strangely, I felt more at ease. I thought many of them would depict the sad scenes of the night the ship sank, but instead, the artists chose to illustrate the beauty of the doomed ship.

Suddenly, I saw a beautiful sketch of two figures standing at the stern of the ship, their arms outstretched. I looked away quickly, the tears welling up again as I remembered that last day I was with him, when we also stood at the stern of the ship with our arms outstretched, just like in the drawing. I remembered how I wanted to pour out my soul to him that day, to tell him I wanted to be with him, but all he did was lead me to the railing of the ship. He told me to stretch my arms out and it would feel as though I were flying. I remembered looking down and feeling like I was going to fall into the water, but he held me tightly. The sensation stayed fresh in my mind all these years. I could still smell the ocean water and feel the breeze in my hair. I could hear his voice softly singing tunes in my ear. And I could still feel his arms wrapped around me...

I glanced back at the drawing and smiled as I thought about all the happy moments I had aboard the ship and forgot all about the tragedy. Suddenly, something jotted down at the corner of the sketch caught my eye. Could it be?!

The date 'May 2, 1912' was written neatly. Below it, a scribbled signature.

Jack's signature.