RUNAWAY ROSE
Chapter Thirty-Six

Robert and Rose stared at each other in shock. Rose found her voice first.

"Robert, what are you doing in New Orleans?"

"I’m an actor in one of the theaters. What are you doing here? What were those gentlemen talking about?"

Rose glanced around quickly, not wanting anyone to overhear. There was no one about, but she still didn’t trust the area.

"Come with me," she told him, slipping back around the corner and heading in the direction of her hotel.

Robert hesitated a moment, then followed her.

When they reached the hotel, Rose had Robert follow her to her room. No one looked askance at her for doing so. Few people were about, and the hotel was not known for its high standards.

Once inside, Rose and Robert sat down on the narrow, sagging bed. Rose ran her hands through her hair, trying to think of how to explain this latest mess.

"What in God’s name are you doing?" Robert demanded, noticing Rose’s nervous gestures, along with the traces of darkening makeup still left on her face.

"Keep your voice down," she cautioned him. "The walls are thin."

"All right. What are you doing?"

"I...ah...I’m making a living, and trying to promote equal rights."

"Uh...okay." Robert looked at her strangely. He hadn’t heard about her efforts before, and had only happened upon her that night because he had accompanied a fellow actor to the bar that he had met Rose’s harassers in. His friend had left earlier, and he had stayed for one last drink before leaving.

"How, exactly, are you accomplishing this? Why did they think you were trying to pass for white?"

"Well..." Rose twisted her hands nervously. "I met this man one day when I had been in New Orleans about two weeks. His name is Tom DeWitt, and he’s Negro. White women and Negro men are not supposed to really associate around here, but I came up with the idea for a business venture that would benefit both of us. He has a banjo, which he plays very well, and I can sing, so I proposed that we work together as street performers. However, with the way the laws are, we couldn’t work together without him, and possibly me, getting arrested. So, I decided to pose as his octoroon granddaughter. I just dyed my hair black again and put on a little makeup. It’s fooled a lot of people, including the gentlemen who attacked me in that alley." She rubbed her sore jaw, thinking. "I soon realized that being colored meant that I couldn’t go a lot of places, do a lot of things. Even though all I had to do was take off my makeup to be considered white, I just didn’t think that it was fair. So, I started singing about freedom and rights and such, and even made up some new verses and new songs. A few people have borrowed my songs at this one establishment that is big on equality. A few people even joined us in our campaign, but that ended when the police arrested all of us. Tom and I are working on our own again. The men who attacked me have been harassing us for days. Sometimes people get the police to remove us from the street, but a lot of times the police don’t care. So they take the time to harass us themselves."

Robert shook his head. "You’re going to get yourself in trouble."

"I already get into trouble. At least this way it’s worth it." She glanced at him nervously, wondering what his response would be. Would he blow her cover? Reject her for her activities?

Robert looked pensive for a moment. Then he started to laugh.

"What’s so funny?" Rose demanded, insulted.

"You never cease to amaze me, Rose. I’ll solve the mystery of you yet."

Rose smiled, recognizing the humor in the situation. For all that her life was filled with trials and tribulations, it was never dull.

Robert stopped laughing. "Where else have you been? Just here? Or did you join that Shakespeare troupe? You disappeared without a trace. No one knew what had happened. We thought you might have ended up like Alice..."

"What happened to Alice?" Rose demanded. Something in Robert’s voice told her that whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

"She’s dead. Didn’t you hear?"

Rose stared at him, stunned. "No. No, I didn’t hear. What happened?"

"She was murdered. Her body was found in an alley a few blocks from the theater. She’d been strangled. No one knows who killed her. It was reported that a wealthy-looking gentleman was seen running from the alley, but the man who reported that was drunk, so no one really believes him."

Rose shook her head, still stunned. She knew that the drunk had been right, that a wealthy gentleman had run from the alley. Remembering what had happened her last night in New York, she knew that Cal had been responsible for Alice’s death. She knew that she should say something, speak out, but fear held her back. Cal had tried to kill her, too, and she feared that if he found her, he would finally succeed at what he had attempted that night.

"Gabe took off the day after the funeral. He said that he was going to California, which I guess is about as far as you can get from New York without leaving the country. We tried to talk him out of it, but there was no dissuading him. I hope he made it, wherever he is. I haven’t heard from him since."

"Is that why you left New York?"

He shook his head. "I would have stayed and continued working in the theater, but early in February it caught fire from bad wiring and burnt to the ground, leaving us all out of jobs. No one was hurt—it started after everyone had left—but we no longer had a place to work. I guess I could have gotten a job with another theater in New York, but with Alice and Gabe gone, I didn’t see much point in hanging around. Those two were like my family, and without them, and without a job, there was no reason to stay. I wandered around for a bit and then got a job in a theater here. I’ve been here for about eight months now."

Rose tried to take all this in—the shocking news of Alice’s death, Robert’s sudden re-entry into her life, the way she had lived her own life since leaving New York. She had done some things that she would always regret, but she had carried on. Life now was not easy, but it was worthwhile.

"Where have you been all this time?" Robert wanted to know.

"I...I joined the Shakespeare troupe. I left the day after the last performance of the year in the Baker Theater."

"So, you’ve been traveling around the country, acting. Why did you leave?"

"I got into a little...trouble...in San Francisco. I was asked to leave."

"What happened?"

Rose shook her head. "I’d rather not talk about it. At least, not now." Maybe someday she’d be able to talk about the fact that she had killed someone, but now the memory was still too fresh, too painful. Marietta had only been dead for two and a half months.

"Why did you come here?"

"I’d been to New Orleans before and liked it. So, I came here."

"And became a street performer."

"After about two weeks. I tried to find a regular job, but was unsuccessful. So, I used a little...creativity."

Robert pulled out his pocket watch. It was growing late.

"You’ve been living here?" He gestured around the room.

"Yes. For the past three weeks."

"This place is a slum."

Rose scowled at him. "Street performers don’t make a lot of money, especially when they spend most of their time raising controversy. I’m doing the best I can."

"I know you are, but still—"

"Robert." He turned to look at her. "My life isn’t bad. I may not be living in luxury, but I’m satisfied with what I’m doing. In spite of everything, I’m glad for where life has taken me."

"You’re a strong woman, Rose Dawson." He paused. "Since we’re both in New Orleans, and we are old friends, why don’t we get together sometime?"

Rose smiled. "Sure. I’d like that." She looked at him teasingly. "But don’t think that you are going to solve the mystery of Rose."

"Oh, I’m going to try," he teased her back. "I love solving a good puzzle."

"Oh, is that what I am? A puzzle?" Rose laughed.

"Hmm..."

"Oh, shut up." They both started laughing. Rose had forgotten how much fun it was to be around Robert.

"Well, I’d better be going," Robert told her, standing. "Where and when should I meet you?"

"Meet me at the American tomorrow night at seven. That’s the place that supports equality." She quickly told him where it was and how to get there.

"All right. I’ll see you then." He headed for the door.

"Robert." He turned. "I’m sorry about Alice. I know that you thought of her as a sister."

"Thank you. In spite of everything, she was your friend, too."

"Yes. She was. I hope that wherever she is, she’s found peace. She never really had it here."

"I hope so, too."

Impulsively, Rose hugged him. "Well, good night."

"Good night, Rose. Good luck, be careful, and stay out of trouble."

She smiled. "I’ll try."

Rose closed the door behind him. Sinking down on her bed, she closed her eyes tiredly, her mind still whirling with the events of the day.

Chapter Thirty-Seven
Stories