DAWSON'S TRAVELS: Jack's Life Before, During, and After Titanic
Chapter One
This is Jack's life
before, during, and After Titanic. Hopefully I can remain true to
the character of Jack Dawson and at the same time tell a story of
how his life was before his experience on Titanic and before he
met Rose and how it changed after Titanic and Rose.
April 10, 1907
Jack Dawson sighed glumly as he stared down at the ashes that
used to be his home. It was hard to believe that just two days
ago he was in the kitchen with his mother talking about this
years harvest while his father read the newspaper at the table.
Now here he was, two days later...his parents dead...his house
gone...this year's harvest forgotten. What was he going to do
now? What was expected of him? The neighbors and townsfolk...they
all expected him to do what any other Chippewa Falls lad would
do. Rebuild and carry on in his pa's footsteps. But not Jack. No
Jack Dawson had bigger and better plans. Jack Dawson was going to
leave this small town and he was going to head out for the
horizon and become a world famous artist! His life's goal. The
one thing that had kept him going through the past two days was
the thought of his goal and he wasn't going to give it up to
please a couple of old folks who wanted to stick with their
traditions.
Jack sighs once more, saying a silent farewell to the life he had
once knew and turned around to come face to face with one of his
best friend's in the whole world, Leah Calvert. Her clear gray
eyes spoke her unhappiness with what he was going to do.
"You're making a mistake Jack. Don't go. Stay."
"I can't stay Leah. I'll never become a world famous artist
if I stay. You know that," Jack sighed. They have had this
conversation the day before yesterday when Jack had first told
her he was leaving.
Leah laughed. "Jack Dawson, you know good and well that
you're never going to be a world famous artitst. I mean, don't
get me wrong. You're good. You definately have talent. But an
artist has to be dead in order to be famous for his works. Is
that what you want to be? Dead?"
"You don't understand," Jack glared at his friend. She
was just like the rest of the people here in Chippewa Falls. Too
scared to venture out and see what the world had to offer. Just
wanted to stay in their own little corner of the world where
everything was nice and safe. Jack truly believed that he was the
only adventurous soul among them. "I'm going what they would
have done at my age if they had the chance. I'm making it count,
starting now. Leah, if their deaths haven't taught me one thing
it's that. Make each day count. Because you never know what
life's going to throw at ya."
"Your father's favorite lecture," Leah sighed in
defeat, knowing now that it's useless talking her friend into
staying. "Make each day count."
"Right. Now do you see why I have to go?"
"It's what he wanted for you," Leah sighed again.
"Ok Jack. You win. Go. Get out of here and don't come back.
But do me a favor. Write. Let me know how life's been treating
you. Do at least that much for me. Promise me now Jack. Promise
to write."
"I promise," Jack takes her hand and meets her gaze
meaningfully.
Leah sighed as she remembered her mother's conversation with
Jack's mother one day. Neither women knew she was nearby, but the
comment wasn't lost on her.
"Mytle, I think my son's sweet on your girl Leah. Wouldn't
surprise me if they upped and married each other someday,"
Irene Dawson smiled over at her best friend.
"Wouldn't surprise me a bit," Myrtle Calvert laughed
with glee.
Leah sighed sadly. Her heart had skipped a beat at that comment.
Her secret crush on Jack was definately noticed by all but him
and now she was losing him for good. She never had a chance to
tell him how she truly felt. "Take care of yourself Jack
Dawson, and come back and visit us if you can."
"I promise," Jack smiled. "Take care of yourself
Leah."
"I will," Leah smiled, as he dropped her hand and
turned to leave, his blond hair blowing in the wind.
That was her last sight of him. Walking away from her, whistling
a happy tune, his duffle bag thrown over one shoulder. He looks
back once, waves, turns back around and disappears back into the
horizon.