RUNAWAY ROSE
Chapter Ninety-Two
October 4, 1917
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin
It was mid-morning when the train arrived in
Chippewa Falls. It had been a long three-day journey there, getting off the
first train in a larger city and taking a smaller, local train to Jack’s old
hometown.
Both Jack and Rose were tired when they
finally emerged from the train. They had not had the money to afford sleeper
cars on the train, so they had mainly been confined to their seats for the last
three days. Jack in particular tired easily, but Rose, too, was glad to leave
the train and set foot on solid ground.
Jack looked around as he stepped down from
the train. Not much had changed. There were some different faces, a few more
cars and buildings, but it looked much the same as it had been ten years
before. Even the train station was the same, a horde of boys standing around
waiting to act as porters in hope of getting tips. He smiled slightly as he
observed a couple of girls in the crowd. Women everywhere were becoming more
independent, demanding the same rights, opportunities, and freedoms as men, and
the girls were taking advantage of the changes, as well. It was they who would
inherit what their mothers had struggled for.
As he and Rose went to pick up their luggage,
he was reminded acutely of his mother. She had been one of those women who had
believed that they were equal to men, and she had been outspoken about her
views. Some people had shunned her for this, but it was what had attracted his
father to her. The Dawson men had always been attracted to strong women, and
neither he nor his father had been exceptions. His parents had married within a
year of meeting each other, with Jack already on the way.
The Dawsons picked up their luggage and
started down the street, carrying it themselves, much to the disappointment of
the would-be porter who had approached them. But money was tight, at least
until they found work again, and they couldn’t afford the dime tip that their
helper had wanted.
There was only one hotel in town, just as
when Jack had left, but fortunately, it was still an inexpensive place to stay.
They couldn’t afford much—certainly not one of the better rooms—but camping out
on the outskirts of town was out of the question. The autumn weather was
growing cold, especially at night, making some kind of a room necessary.
They made their way to the hotel and went
inside, hoping that there was a room available. If not, they would have to try
to find one of Jack’s old friends—and there was no telling where they might be.
Ten years was a long time, even in a small town.
"Good morning, sir," the desk clerk
told him, eyeing his shabby clothing. Both Jack and Rose resembled the unwanted
drifters who made their way into Chippewa Falls seeking work or trouble. Not
that he wouldn’t give them a room if they could pay for it, but drifters were
unpopular in any town, and even moreso in a small, staid Midwestern town.
"We want a room," Jack told him,
setting his suitcase down and leaning on his walking stick. He was exhausted
from the long trip and the walk into town.
"We have three rooms available. What
sort of room are you looking for, and for how long?"
"The cheapest possible, for two
days." He knew that two days was extravagant—it would only take one day to
do what he needed—but he wanted Rose to see his hometown. Besides that, he was
tired from traveling, and it was still a long way to California. And once they
reached Los Angeles, they would need to find work as quickly as possible. An
extra day to rest sounded like the best possible thing they could do.
"There is an attic room available for
twenty-five cents a night," he was told. "Single occupancy."
"We’ll take it."
"There’s only one bed, sir. Unless you
are married to the young lady..."
"We’re married," Rose told him. She
showed him the gold ring on her finger. Jack had had no money for a wedding
ring for her, but Ruth had given him her first wedding ring, insisting that he
give it to Rose. He had protested at first, but soon gave in when Ruth told him
how Rose had admired the ring as a little girl. The ring was a little bit small
for her, but she had no intention of taking it off.
The clerk looked at them, trying to determine
if she was telling the truth. The ring looked too good to belong to such an
impoverished couple. Finally, he pushed the register towards them.
"Sign here," he told Jack,
indicating an empty line near the bottom of the page.
Jack signed himself and Rose into the
register, then counted out twenty-five cents and gave it to the clerk. The
clerk reached for a key on a rack behind the counter, handing it to Jack.
"You’ll be in Room 304," he told
him, "at the top of the second flight of stairs."
Jack took the key, sighing. Apparently the
hotel still did not have an elevator. Wearily, he picked his suitcase back up
and started for the stairs.
Rose took his suitcase from him as they
started up. "You look like you’re ready to fall down the stairs," she
told him when he looked at her questioningly. "That’s much worse than
landing in the dust," she added.
He nodded. He’d come near to falling on the
stairs a couple of times in the past year—an experience he preferred not to
repeat.
At the top of the second flight of stairs, he
took his suitcase back from a struggling Rose and found their room. Unlocking
the door, he ushered Rose inside and closed the door behind them.
They both lay down on the bed, too tired to
bother with undressing or even removing their shoes. In minutes, they were both
sound asleep.
*****
It was mid-afternoon by the time the Dawsons
awakened. Rose sat up first, yawning and stretching, feeling refreshed for the
first time in days. The bed shifted as she got up, and Jack opened his eyes,
slowly sitting up.
"What time is it?" he asked Rose,
stretching and looking towards the window.
"I don’t know." Rose pulled back
the curtains and looked out. "Afternoon, it looks like."
Jack pulled himself to his feet and joined
her at the window. Nodding, he turned to look at her.
"I think there’s enough time,
then."
"Enough time for what?"
"I need to visit my parents’ graves.
That’s why I wanted to come here."
"Where are they buried?"
"On their farm, on the outskirts of
town."
"Are you sure you want to walk that
far?" Rose frowned. It was no problem for her, of course, but Jack had so
much trouble with long walks...
"It isn’t really that far," he told
her. "About a mile or so. My pa’s parents were homesteaders who got their
land near to where the town was built, and Pa inherited it after they
died."
"So, why didn’t you inherit it after
your parents died?"
He shrugged. "There were several bad
years in a row. A lot of debt. The land was sold to pay off those debts."
Rose nodded, understanding, but still had a
question. "Are you sure we’ll be allowed to visit the gravesite?"
"It’s right on the edge of the property,
near the road. I don’t think anyone will object as long as we stay out of the
fields."
"Well, then..." Rose let the
curtains drop. "Let’s go."
*****
Rose was surprised to find not two, but five
graves in the little burial plot, shaded by a tall oak tree. Jack told her who
each grave belonged to.
"These are the graves of my grandfather
and grandmother, Joseph and Camilla Dawson. They came west just before the Civil
War began. Originally, they were from Connecticut, but they were looking
something different. And this..." He gestured to a small grave in the
center. "...this is my little brother, Abraham. He was about five years
younger than me. One winter, he got a really bad case of pneumonia. Ma and Pa
took him into town, but it was the middle of the night, and the doctor refused
to see him. By morning, it was too late." He looked at the small grave,
sadness in his eyes. "He was only three years old. Ma cried for the
longest time after that—and we couldn’t bury him until spring. The ground was
frozen too solid."
Rose shook her head with sympathy, putting
her arms around him. She remembered, all too well, storing Robert’s body in a
pit until spring had thawed the land enough to bury him. To have to bury a
child...she shuddered, touching her middle, hoping that she would never lose
another child. One was too many.
"So...these are your parents’
graves?" she asked, looking towards the two graves Jack had not yet shown
her.
He nodded. "Yes. Joseph Dawson, Jr., and
Marie Dawson." He crouched down in front of the graves, tracing the names
and dates carved into the headstones.
Ten years. It had been ten years since he had
fled from this place, taking what little he had with him. He’d had no reason to
stay—his entire family was gone, and he was the only one left. There were
people who would have taken him in, of course...including the family that had
bought the land. But he couldn’t stay. Two weeks after the funeral, he had
walked away down the long dirt road towards the south, never looking back.
Reaching down, he cleared away the tangle of
dried brush and grass that covered both graves, revealing the small, hardy
flowers that he had scattered seeds for at the funeral ten years before. They
were still growing, and a quick look around revealed that others of their kind
had taken root on the roadside and on the other graves.
Struggling to his feet, he looked down at the
graves, hardly noticing Rose, who stood beside him, a comforting hand on his
shoulder.
"Ma, Pa," he whispered, his voice
barely audible, "it’s me. Jack. I know it’s been a long time...but I could
never get the courage to come back here before. I had plenty of opportunities—I
came west again in 1912—but I couldn’t. Not even with Amelia. But...I thought
the time was finally right to come back and visit. I won’t be back after this—it’s
time to move on. I just wanted you to know that I still love you, and I’ll
never forget you. I realize now that you didn’t blame me for knocking that
lantern over. It was an accident, one that could happen to anyone. Pa, you told
me as much before you died. But it’s taken me a long time to accept that. I’ve
finally made my peace with your deaths, and now—now I can move on with life.
Thank you, Ma, Pa, for being able to forgive me. I only wish it hadn’t taken so
long to forgive myself."
He turned away from Rose for a moment,
regaining his composure. When he turned back to her, his eyes were red, but his
face was calm.
Rose put her arms around him. "You
know," she whispered, "you’re not the only Dawson left anymore. I’m
here, and so is our little one." She moved his hand to rest on her middle.
He put his arms around her, holding her
tight. "I know." He stroked her hair gently.
Rose looked up at him, taking his hand in
hers. "Let’s go back now. I think it’s time to go."
He nodded, walking along at her side, their
hands joined.
"It is—now."