RUNAWAY ROSE
Chapter Nineteen
Rose’s big break came early in November, when
Alice, stricken with a bad cold and laryngitis, was unable to go on stage. Rose’s
understudy, fully recovered now, took on Rose’s part, and Rose went on as
Desdemona.
Rose was a mass of nerves that night. She had
grown accustomed to being on stage, to being watched and stared at, but she had
never had such a big role before, and wondered what Norman had been thinking
when he had made her the understudy. Nevertheless, she accepted the challenge,
taking Alice’s place until her friend regained her voice and adding her own
dimensions to the role.
In Rose’s view, Desdemona was more than just
the tragic victim of jealousy and misunderstanding. She regarded her as the
victim of an unaccepting society as well, and as someone unwittingly caught in
a power struggle. She knew that her view was probably influenced by her own
experiences, but she had learned that a good actress drew from her own
experience to bring depth to a character, which was why both she and Alice did
so well in the role.
The audience was disappointed at first that
Alice was not going to be on stage that night, but Rose’s performance was more
than adequate, and word soon spread about her. Rose took on the role for
several more nights, until Alice was able to speak adequately again, and a
number of people came back to see her perform. To be sure, it wasn’t as many as
came to admire Alice, but Rose was just starting out, and an understudy, so she
did not expect the adulation that Alice received.
Robert, who was playing Cassio, had actually
expressed relief that Alice was absent from the theater for several nights.
Alice’s new beau had begun knocking her around, but Alice, convinced that she
was in love, refused to complain, explaining away the bruises as the results of
a fall, though Rose had enough experience with an abusive relationship to doubt
the veracity of Alice’s words. Because of her contentious relationship, Alice
had once again taken to sipping sherry in the evenings, especially as the
weather grew colder and she felt the need to have something to warm her up. The
abusive beau and the alcohol did little to improve her already high-strung
temperament, and people had begun avoiding her again, not wanting to be the
recipients of one of her tongue-lashings.
Alice and Norman were still not getting
along, and around the middle of November, after a particularly vociferous
argument, Norman told Alice that she would not be welcomed back to the theater
after Othello ended. Alice blamed Rose for her predicament, first
screaming at her, then sinking into a sullen silence. Although she soon found
new work, and seemed to have forgiven Rose, the closeness they had once shared
had vanished. Although they lived in the same boarding house, Rose had to admit
that she missed Alice.
At the same time, Rose’s relationship with
Robert became closer. She refused to become romantically involved—not only had
she seen many girls get their hearts broken by Robert, but she wasn’t ready to
enter a new relationship after the misery of her engagement to Cal and the
trauma of the Titanic—but they became much closer friends. Both were very
worried about Alice, who often disappeared after the show and didn’t return
until the next evening. Alice’s behavior was becoming increasingly erratic, her
breath often smelling of alcohol, and they weren’t certain whether the alcohol
was responsible, or something worse.
Alice continued to appear on the stage, but
at times her performance was barely adequate, and Norman had quietly taken Rose
aside and asked her to be prepared to take over at a moment’s notice. Sometimes
Alice’s behavior would take on an almost manic quality; she would go for days
without sleep, perform brilliantly on the stage, and talk non-stop, often
bringing Frances’s wrath down upon her for making too much noise at night.
Eventually, she would grow tired and irritable, consuming far more sherry than
was healthy, and finally sink into a depression, sometimes refusing to leave
her room. Rose would go on stage in Alice’s place, explaining to Norman that
Alice was sick. Norman once muttered under his breath that drunk was more like
it, but he was trying to distance himself from her, and didn’t try to
interfere.
When Alice was feeling normal, her behavior
was pleasant, and she was easy to get along with, but the closer it got to the
time when the play would close, and the more her beau kicked her around, the
less pleasant her behavior became. She often shouted at Rose and Robert, and
would sometimes stare suspiciously at Rose, as though she was certain that Rose
was plotting against her.
Rose finally asked Gabe what he thought about
the way Alice was acting, but he shrugged and said that Alice had these spells
from time to time, and she would eventually get over it. She had had spells
like this twice before, once when she had been thrown out of school, and
shortly after their mother had died, leaving them to fend for themselves. It
seemed that she reacted badly to the strain, and would temporarily sink into
the depths of her own misery. He attributed this spell to her losing her
position with the theater company, having to live with the person she blamed
for the loss of her job, her beau, and too much drinking.
Rose remembered some of the things she had
read about how the mind worked, and one afternoon, when she had free time, she
wandered over to the New York Public Library and continued her reading of the
work of Dr. Freud.
She remembered how shocked and angry Cal and
her mother had been when she had discussed Freud’s ideas on the Titanic. Of
course, she admitted, she hadn’t been talking about the most polite of Freud’s ideas.
Nevertheless, Rose found psychology fascinating, and soon began reading the
work of other philosophers and psychologists.
Rose would never be absolutely certain of
what Alice’s problem was, but her studies brought her to a good theory—Alice
suffered from manic-depressive disorder, along with alcoholism. Rose didn’t
know what could be done to help her friend—she thought that giving up the
sherry would be a good step, but Alice didn’t seem inclined to do so, and if
her bottles of it disappeared, she simply bought more, assuming that she had
drunk it all. The manic-depressive episodes couldn’t be helped; there weren’t
any adequate medications available, and Rose suspected that Alice drank partly
to try to treat herself. Any attempt to discuss it with her was met with
hostility, leading Rose, and Robert, after Rose had discussed her findings with
him, to believe that Alice knew that something was wrong, but had no idea what
to do about it. They simply kept an eye on her and hoped that she would calm down
before long.
Rose felt almost guilty about accepting the
praise and adulation when she took over the role of Desdemona, knowing that
Alice had worked long and hard to get where she was, and that she couldn’t help
what was happening to her. But someone needed to fill the role, and Rose was
very talented.
One night early in December, a recruiter from
a traveling Shakespeare troupe approached her after the show. Rose was cautious—she
had heard enough stories about fly-by-night operators, casting couches, and
other dangers of theatrical life to have a healthy amount of suspicion—but she
was also intrigued. The Shakespeare troupe was in New York for the entire month
of December and held performances every night except Monday, so Rose went to
see one of the plays on a Sunday evening, accompanied by Robert.
The troupe of actors was excellent, very
professional, and the recruiter had seen her both as the prostitute and as
Desdemona, and felt that her level of talent was just what the company needed
to replace an actress who had decided to get married and quit the life of a traveling
performer. The company was performing two plays, Hamlet and As You
Like It, and the recruiter convinced Rose to audition.
Rose was leery at first, but Robert had done
some work as a traveling actor and was familiar with this group. He was of the
opinion that they were among the best around, and that Rose would be a fool to
pass up the opportunity. So Rose went to the audition.
Seven actresses had been called to audition,
with openings for three actresses in the troupe—two for small roles and one for
lead roles. The director explained that the reason that he had not promoted one
of the other actresses in the troupe to the position of leading lady was
because those that wanted to be leads weren’t yet adequate for the company’s
needs—they learned a lot as they went along—and those who were didn’t want to
be leads.
Rose auditioned with two monologues she had
memorized from books of plays that she had found in the library—one comical and
one dramatic. Rose had never auditioned for anything before, but Robert had
assured her that this was how it was done, and she took him at his word.
Two of the actresses were eliminated the
first day, but the other five, including Rose, were asked to come back the next
week. Rose had her doubts about being accepted—her acting had some rough edges,
and most of her experience, besides the few months she had spent working in the
Baker Theater, had been in real life, putting on a happy, convincing face when
she felt like running and screaming.
So it was much to Rose’s surprise that she
found herself cast as the new leading lady for the Shakespeare troupe. She was
excited, but also worried, since she had built a satisfying life for herself in
New York City, and she wasn’t certain that she wanted to give it up to face the
unknown. Norman wanted her to come back after Othello ended in a dance
role he was choreographing for her, and Rose couldn’t decide which she wanted
to do. She told the director of the troupe that she would have to think about
it, uncertain as to what she wanted. Half of her wanted the adventure that
would come with traveling around the country and performing, while the other
half of her feared giving up what she had come to know and once again committing
herself to the unknown.
The director of the troupe gave her until
December thirty-first to decide, the night that they were leaving New York and
heading for Boston. Rose promised him that she would give him an answer by
then. It was still two days before Christmas, and she had some time to think.
She wanted adventure, to make it count, as Jack had said, but she worried about
leaving Alice, although Alice had calmed down somewhat since her beau had
returned to his family for the holidays. Still, Rose wasn’t certain what to do,
and she wasn’t any closer to making a decision on December thirtieth, the last
night of Othello.