Titanic

O.5

Authors note:
Hopefully you're enjoy so far!
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Thanks,
S.
__________

Roses point of view:

We stroll around the deck talking about this and that. It's as if I've knew him for years and we had just reunited on this ship.

"You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an
artist... living in a garret, poor but free!" I excitedly say.

"You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water, and hardly any caviar," he laughs.

"Listen, buster... I hate caviar! And I'm tired of people dismissing my
dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the head," I say in anger.

"I'm sorry I really am..." he looks at me and his smile drops.

"Well, alright. There's something in me, Jack. I feel it. I don't know what
it is, whether I should be an artist, or, I don't know... a dancer. Like
Isadora Duncan.... a wild pagan spirit..."

I leap forward, lands deftly and whirl like a dervish. Then I see
something ahead. My face lights up.

"Or a moving picture actress!" I take his hand and run, pulling him along the deck toward Daniel and Mary Marvin. Daniel is cranking the big wooden movie camera as she poses stiffly at the rail.

"You're sad. Sad, sad, sad. You've left your lover on the shore. You may
never see him agian. Try to be sadder, darling," Marvin says looking up from the camera.

I couldn't help myself from jumping in next to Mary and making a theatrical pose. Mary starts to laugh and I pull Jack in and make him pose.

Marvin grins and starts yelling and gesturing.

We act stupid for a good while and then leave to walk again.

We lean on the A deck rail, shoulder to shoulder. That's much closer than what we were when the day begun.

"So then what. Mr. Wandering Jack?" I lean my head on his warm shoulder.

"Well, then logging got to be too much like work, so I went down to Los
Angelas to the pier in Santa Monica. That's a swell place, they even have a
rollercoaster. I sketched portraits there for ten cents a piece," he tells me.

"A whole ten cents?!?" I joke.

He obviously didn't get what I was joking about, " Yeah; it was great money... I could make a dollar a day, sometimes. But
only in summer. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris and see what the
real artists were doing,"

I look into the dusk sky, "why can't I be like you Jack? Just head out of the horizon whenever I feel like it," I turn to him, "say we'll go there sometime.... the that pier... even if we only ever just talk about it,"

"Alright, we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on the rollercoaster
until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach... right in the
surf... but you have to ride like a cowboy, none of that side-saddle stuff," he looks at me smiling.

"You mean one leg on each side? Can you show me?"

"Sure. If you like,"