Chapter Eight

June 15th, 1922
Miles City, Montana

Jack and Rose didn't sleep at all. Jack was right. Any way he phrased it would have ended in the same result. Jack had waited to speak with Rose when they were settling into bed for the night. And, of course, she cried. She sobbed. She muffled her cries into Jack's chest. All he could do was hold her and stroke her fiery red curls gently. Rose couldn't believe it but Jack had to try convince her she wasn't a bad mother. Valentina was getting older and smarter- she was bound to become more aware of it. But Rose was so lost on herself.

Rose had finally managed to fall asleep just before dawn. She slept on Jack's chest and he simply watched, carressing her gently in hopes of sweet dreams. He watched the sun slowly light their room and he sighed as he watched the clock tick closer to his due arrival at the office. Jack didn't want to leave Rose home alone to deal with the children on her own, not in her despairing state, but it was crunch time on the July edition of the magazine and he simply couldn't be absent.

Slowly, Jack untangled himself from his wife and lowered her to the bed, pulling the quilt over her. She didn't even stir as Jack steathily got dressed and left the bedroom. He stopped by Charlie's room and peaked in to see his small figure buried beneath a mountain of quilts fast asleep. Jack was preplexed when he peaked into Valentina's room and found it empty. Jack went down the stairs and when he entered the kitchen, Valentina was sitting at the kitchen island in her pajamas, eating a bowl of cereal with a glass of orange juice.

"Good morning, Tina," Jack greeted, leaning his cane against the counter. He began working on brewing coffee, making sure to brew extra for Rose when she woke up.

"Mornin', Daddy," She said.

"How're you feeling?"

"I took my temperature before breakfast. 100. Is that good?"

"Well," Jack looked over his shoulder from his task with a bright grin, "you're still sick, but it's gone down, so that's good news."

"Do you think it's low enough to convince Momma to take me to the library?" Valentina asked after slurping off her spoon, "The new Dr. Dolittle book is out and I've read the last one at least ten times. I'm dying to read about his new adventures."

Jack finished stirring his coffee and turned towards her, "Just for the book, right? Your history club doesn't happen to be meeting today, too, does it?"

"Well... a couple of them might be there," Valentina did her best to sheepishly shrug.

"Hmm... well, that's up to your mother," Jack shrugged now, leaning against the counter, "Your fever is going down. If you wait just another day or two, you'll be fever free to do whatever you like."

"The first thing I'm gonna do is practice my trumpet," Valentina told him, "Momma told me to leave the audition piece alone for a few days and come back with fresh eyes. I think I'm ready to do that. The audition is next week, Daddy! I have to make sure I'm prepared."

"I think you're plenty prepared."

"Says you," Valentina replied quickly, taking a quick gulp of some orange juice, "You haven't seen the kids from the Miles City Prep School play yet. They're fierce, Daddy. Every single one of 'em could easily fill all eight chairs!"

"You're actin' like you're not fierce at all, Tina," Jack came to the island and set his hands to the cool countertops, "You've been playing that trumpet non-stop since you learned how to make it toot when you were just five years old. You study your art, you practice your art. I've seen you. You have no idea how truly talented you are, Valentina. They might seem fierce, but you are fierce," Jack grinned now, "You're a Dawson! We always manage to pull it together."

Valentina smiled warmly at her father. He dipped his head down to tenderly kiss her on the forehead. He then glanced to the clock and quickly finished off his mug of coffee, "Well, I'm off to work. Your mother and Charlie are still asleep. Let your mom sleep for as long as she needs to, alright? She's been tired from work recently. Tell Charlie to eat some cereal, too, and don't go anywhere. Sound good?"

"Yes, Daddy," Valentina nodded.

"Alright, I'll see you later," Jack told her, pleased with their conversation. He left out the door and on his merry way to work, but as he drew closer, a new realization fell upon him, He was going to have to confront Eleanor about what she knew about her son's current business. He shuffled his feet back and forth before he entered the hectic office. Williamson, his right hand man, who had been Wally's before, gretted him with a smile.

"Hey, I got a weird task for you today," Jack said, tapping his cane against the edge of his desk, "Could you go to the book store and buy a copy of the latest Dr. Dolittle book?"

Williamson smirked at the request, "Valentina's still on bed rest?"

"It'll be the only thing that'll keep her there," Jack grinned.

"Alright, I can do that," Williamson told him. Jack was beginning to move on when Williamson called after him, making Jack paused, "Eleanor is waiting for you in your office."

"Oh," Jack said, trying not to sound surprised, "Thanks."

...

Rose woke up nearly an hour after Jack had left. She quickly got dressed and checked Charlie's room, but that boy was still asleep, his face sunken into his pillow and his ashen blond hair molded in all kinds of directions. As she headed back towards the stairs, she noticed the library door was ajar and she peaked her head in. Valentina was laying across a fluffy couch with dozens of throw pillows. She had a book held up in front of her.

Rose's presence was not known to Valentina yet. Tenderly, she gripped the door frame and silently looked over her daughter. Rose's heart was ready to crumple into a thousand little pieces. The anxiety, the pain, she must have been feeling. The loneliness she must have been plagued in thinking she couldn't open up about this sooner to Rose. She tightened her grip on the doorway as she looked at Valentina. She'd give anything in the world to make her feel important, appreciated, and understood. She would do anything to secure Valentina's security.

Rose cleared her throat gently to alert Valentina of her presence. The young girl lifted her head from her bundle of pillows and looked towards the door, "Oh, hey, Momma."

"Hey, good morning," Rose said, walking into the room completely, "Can I make you anything for breakfast?"

"That's alright," Valentina shook her head, "I had some cereal this morning."

"Was that enough?" Rose asked, reaching out towards her forehead. Valentina wasn't nearly as hot as yesterday, but she still wasn't completely out of the woods, "Why don't you go wake Charlie up? I'll make us some blueberry pancakes."

"Strawberry, too?" Valentina asked, arching her eyebrows. Rose grinned.

"Strawberry, too."

...

Jack looked up from his desk, watching as Eleanor shuffled between his filing cabinets, trying to keep up with the demand of filing and sending archives to other journalists on the floor. He tapped his pen to his paper as he tried to come up with a way to speak with her. Things just weren't adding up between Charlie and Ivan. Jack just had a hunch. He lowered his paper to his desk and let out a quiet sigh, willing himself to look to the preoccupied secretary.

"Eleanor, can we talk?"

She looked surprised, her brown eyes didn't hide that. Jack gestured towards the door and Eleanor glanced fleetingly to the files in her hand before she crossed and closed it. She turned to face Jack Dawson, doing her best to not squirm or wring her hands beneath his gaze. Spending more and more time with him, listening to him talk, hearing about his ideas, learning his sense of humor, and indulging in the sound of his laugh had given her almost a school yard-like crush. Eleanor was sheepish about it, but relished in the feeling she hadn't recaptured in nearly ten years.

"Sure, Jack," She finally said, coming to stand behind the chair in front of his desk, "What is it?"

"It's not about work and... I'm sorry, again," Slowly, he watched Eleanor stop moving, "It's about the boys again. Eleanor, I'm worried something bad is happening between the boys. Charlie got caught by Rose stealing fireworks. And he said Ivan and Ross were into these things, too. Do you know anything about this?"

"Jack, I..." Eleanor's voice faltered for a moment and he saw tears spring to her eyes. Jack hopped to his feet in a moments notice and came to her side, directing her into one of the chairs. She dabbed at her eyes furiously in an attempt to ward off any crying. She sniffled and shook her head, "I'm at a loss at what to do for my son..."

"What do you mean?" Jack furrowed his brow and seated himself in a chair beside Eleanor.

"Things are changing, Jack," Eleanor told him, "And fast," Eleanor took a deep breath to steady herself as she realized she was getting wound up. She looked to Jack, brushing a curl from her face, "Something strange happened towards the end of the school year, Jack. Back in April. I don't even know what could bring about such a change. Ivan started acting much differently suddenly. He'd be gone after dinner, out all night. I would have no idea where he'd go," Eleanor shook her head, "I'd find myself out at one in the morning trying to find him or at least his bicycle," Eleanor let out a frustrated sigh, "And then... the stealing started to happen. The police delivered him a few times to my door, as well," Eleanor dabbed at her eyes again, clearly embarassed, "It wouldn't be big steals... little things, just soda, candy, and fireworks..."

Jack felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest as Eleanor's pinched scratchy voice continued.

"It looks like Ross easily made the transition with Ivan..." Eleanor wrung her hands together nervously, "I wanted things to work out between him and Charlie. Charlie's a good boy. But... I overheard Ivan say Charlie had turned down an opportunity to steal back in April and the boys apparently had iced him out."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Jack asked.

"I was scared, Jack... that you would judge me," Eleanor croaked, tears now freely falling from her eyes, "I've effectively lost control of my child. He decides what he wants to do. It's as if I'm not the adult anymore. Ivan has been the center of universe and it feels like my baby has been taken away from me. Things aren't like they used to be."

"And you don't know if it's because of someone or something?"

"I don't know," Eleanor shook her head, "It may just be becoming apparent he's without a father... Every boy needs a good father."

"No... something had to have happened, Eleanor," Jack told her, "There has to be someone new in town. Charlie got beaten up and I think it has something to do with whoever Ivan and Ross are hanging out with."

Eleanor couldn't hold it in anymore. She burst out into a full-on sob, catching Jack off-guard. She pressed her hands to her flustered face to shield her contorted and pinched face. Jack wasn't sure what to do, so he offered comfort by wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt...!" Eleanor said between sputtering breaths, "I don't want Ivan to burn all of his bridges...! I just want my boy back!"

"It's alright," Jack told her, rubbing her back gently, "We're going to think of something."

Eleanor shivered in Jack's arms. Her crying had finally managed to surpress itself. She looked to Jack with her wet eyes, blinking rapidly. Her cheeks were a warm rosy color now. Her heart hammered in her chest being so close to Jack. She only felt her school-girl feelings intensify by Jack's sincerity and total utter care.

"We will?" Eleanor asked, rather meekly.

Jack gave her a crooked grin, "Yeah, we will."

...

After Rose had finished getting breakfast cleaned up, Valentina went off to continue her Sherlock Holmes books and Charlie decided to continue with his train project. Rose wandered upstairs to her room and quietly closed the door behind her. She leaned against it for a moment, sighing and closing her eyes. Breakfast had been wonderful, but the entire time, Rose could only feel guilt upon looking at her daughter. As if she had failed her. Set a bar much too high. Rose took a deep breath and silently crossed the bedroom in her stockings. She squeezed into the closet and flicked the light on. Rose looked around for a few moments before pulling a box down and hauling it on her vanity table beside the window overlooking the front yard. Slowly, she opened it and withdrew a wad of letters tied together by brown parcel string.

The stack of paper shook in her hand as she gazed down at it. The last time she had carefully sifted through the letters was 1919, when she was organizing them in chronological order for the last time. Rose closed her eyes again and told herslef not to cry. With a shaky hand, she reached forward and undid the knot in the string. Rose sank to her knees and splayed the letters out in front of her. From 1913 to 1919, the correspondance had been regular and very important to Rose. Seeing the last letter, the sixty-seventh one she had received, hurt her. Rose reached for the first letter, a rush of nostalgia reaching her from a decade ago.

July 19th, 1913
Dear Jack and Rose,

Hello to you two. I'm glad you two could share an address with me so we can keep in contact. My friend Adanna, you remember her from the candy store, well, she can read and write, so I'm just sitting here and dictating to her and hoping she's got fast enough fingers to get everything.

Not much has changed in Texas since you left, unfortunately. Havana is quiet again, but many of us wonder how long that'll last. I can live in a bit more peace knowing my little angel is safe in your arms all the way up in Montana. If I ever get to leave this place, I'm going to make it back to y'all. And the rest of my life will I be humbled by white people like you, whether I'm ever free again or not. You two mean a great deal to me and I will never forget what you did for me that night in that burning alley.

I am endlessly excited about the possibilities that await Valentina in her newfound life. I imagine she has many options up in Montana. I know y'all two will do your utmost to nurture that little girl. Please, with your next letter, can you include a new drawing of her in her home in Montana?

My Deepest Love from Afar,
Charlotte

Rose trembled. She let the letter drift to the floor and gently, she touched the bridge of her nose as she struggled to keep her feelings inside her. They tingled beneath her skin, rushing up her throat. She wanted nothing more than to scream and cry hysterically.

August 11th, 1913
Dear Jack and Rose,

My baby! She looks delightful with all those mountains surrounding her! Is that really in view just beyond your backyard?! And are you telling me that baby beside her on the blanket is her new little brother? Charlie! Welcome to the family, Charlie! I want nothing more than to come be with y'all in Montana so I could snuggle those babies tight and never release y'all's necks from my arms. How's the weather up there? It's always the same in Texas. Hot and dry!

Has Valentina started to talk yet? Does she got a favorite toy? What's her bedroom like? I am so curious because I've never known what it was like to not sleep in a broom closet, elbow to elbow, with my siblings. I want to know what Valentina has because it does nothing but make me so happy. It makes me realized how blessed I truly am, that my daughter could escape all of this and have a chance at freedom? After every blasted day I endured, it was all made worth it when you left Havana with Valentina in that suitcase. And I hope one day, you two will finally feel its time to share with Valentina about me... about the real gnitty gritty details. One day, I'm sure she will be ready to know the truth about me and her father, her pre-determined fate that you two seamlessly destroyed and took her away from. But until then, you'll be the best mother and father for her. She needs people like her to make sure she's well read, can write, and can do everything a white girl can.

I know you'll do what's best.

Love Always,
Charlotte

Rose felt utterly gutted as she lowered that letter, but still, her eyes were dry. Her face was stone hard as her insides trembled on her frame. Suddenly, Rose began to wonder if now was the time to tell Valentina. It was a pivotal moment for her as she ascended into her teenage years. Something inside of Rose said no, though, and her hand reached for the last sheet of paper at the end of line.

March 12th, 1919
Dear Jack and Rose,

Hello. This is Adanna. I felt it would be the right thing to do, to write you this letter. I am at a train station in Dallas, waiting for one that will take me to Ohio, and from there... New York. Things have fallen apart in Havana. So badly, things cannot be repaired. More than half the city is ash. This had nothing to do with what you would think. This wasn't over a couple black people making their way by sweeping floors and wiping toilets. This was between some white folks a town over and a couple of the white folks of Havana. And some of them were the family that Charlotte worked for. It was something about money, I reckon. There was a big ol' group of them, I could see them out the windows of the shop I cleaned and lived in. They seemed like they were just talking, a little tensely, it wasn't just your standard order of business.

And then their guns just started firing off. In all directions! They were breaking out all the windows of buildings. And that's when the fires began. Senseless torching of all the buildings around. And then the white folks started attacking each other. And they made a mad stampede up the hill, towards the richest family in town, where Charlotte worked. They broke through the iron wrought gates like they were nothing but wild mustangs. Gun shots are still ringing out and when I finally found the courage to stand up, there were just bodies laying everywhere. I was so scared, I grabbed my backpack of things and leapt out a window and took off down the street. I ran whatever direction I could, zig-zagged all around- there were bullets just flying everywhere!

When I found a good vantage point, I looked back towards that big house on the hill. Gunfires, screams echoing everywhere. The house was burning down and the roof caved in, maybe even killing some of the white folks who were on the other side, I dunno, that just goes to show how much they just wanted to kill, even if it meant killing themselves. I stayed up on that lonesome hill for a long time and just cried. When morning time finally came, it only showed me that big house was burned completely to the ground. It was nothing but ash and rubble. There were a few bodies in the yard, but I didn't focus on them. I got up and I started walking. Now, I think I'm on my way to freedom, truly, this time.

Charlotte was a good woman. We'd known each other since we were children and first met when we had been bought and sent to Havana from Atlanta. To watch the love of her life be killed, to know now she's dead... she ain't never gonna see that little girl of her's again. To you, I send my condolences. Maybe one day, I'll be able to write you again. For now... I'm living on God's goodwill.

All the best,
Adanna

Rose allowed herself to cry now. She dropped the letter from her hand and placed her hands to her face. She hunched her shoulders as the hot tears came out of her eyes. It wasn't fair, she told herself. How was any of this fair?