Jack trailed Peter down the dusty driveway reluctantly. He was tired, thirsty and the dust and grime of the trip clung to him like a dirty curtain.
"Come on!" Peter exclaimed, full of the excitement of returning home and not seeming to notice Jack's exhaustion. "Don't be so damn depressing- what's got into you, Dawson! You used to have a bit of life about you." He gazed at Jack scornfully, adjusting the heavy backpack on his shoulders. " Look at you- dragging your feet as though you had the worries of the world resting on your shoulders."
The scowl on Pete's face reminded Jack of how quickly his friend's temper could change.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I guess I'm just a little tired from the trip."
Quickening his step, he bridged the gap between them as Pete threw the sturdy front door open. "Mother!" he cried, as an anxious looking woman hurried down the stairs. Her clothes were faded mottled grey, and her face drained of colour- a legacy of a hard life in a small town, with too little money and too many worries. Her hair, drawn back tightly in a bun, was the same colour as Peter's, but abundantly streaked with grey. Despite all this, her dark eyes glittered and danced as she raced down the stairs.
"Petey!" She didn't attempt to hide her delight as she threw her arms around his broad shoulders. Jack stood awkwardly at the door, unsure of his place in this scene. These kind of family situations always made him feel uncomfortable, a jolting reminder that he had no one to welcome him home with delight. He felt a lump rising dangerously in his throat as Mrs. Townsend's eyes drifted towards him. Apologetically, Peter interjected "I sort of invited Jack to stay for a while," he explained. "You remember Jack, don't you?"
The initial look of bewilderment in the woman's eyes faded slowly, to be replaced by amazement.
"Jack!" she cried "is that really you? Have you come back to us after all this time?"
"Guess so, Mrs. Townsend" Jack replied lightly, shrugging his shoulders casually in an uncomfortable attempt to convey just how carefree he was. A wandering spirit- that was how he had always defined himself and right now it was all he had to cling to. His heart was telling him a different story, however. Already, he was beginning to wish that he hadn't returned. Nothing had changed here; nothing at all. The same shops lining the main street, the same curious stares from the townspeople, even the room he stood in was just as he recalled. It had been five years and the only thing that seemed altered in any way was his own feelings. He had thought that the familiarity might be comforting, but now that he stood amongst it, he felt uneasy. The memories were flooding back, and he realised that the small town friendliness that the town was renowned for was only serving to remind him how alone he was.
"Oh Jack!" she admonished him. "We'll have none of the 'Mrs.' business any more. Why look at you!" she cried. "You're all grown up now. Call me Violet." Jack smiled weakly at her, her voice barely registering in his mind. Lost in his thoughts, Jack barely noticed the light footsteps on the staircase as a young woman made her way down.
"Why, Eliza." As Eliza spoke, the surprise was clear. "I didn't realise you were home." The girl smiled a cold smile, rolling her eyes with scarcely disguised derision. "Honestly, Mother, I told you not an hour ago that I would be home tonight. And since when were my movements of such particular interest to you?" she added sharply. Crushed by her daughter's sharp rebuke, Violet suddenly seemed to remember Jack's presence. Turning to him, she continued smoothly "Jack-I'm not sure if you would remember our daughter, Eliza. She was away at school, of course, when you were last here."
Jack glanced over her shoulder, and gasped with surprise. He remembered Eliza from his childhood.. a chubby child with a penchant for chewing her fingernails feverishly. But there was little evidence of that now. Although Jack knew she could only be nineteen, she looked years older, and was obviously proud of the impression she created. Her long curly hair hung down her back, and her yellow dress managed to look elegant despite its simplicity. Although her smile was friendly, there was a steely determination about her eyes. "Why, Jack," she trilled "How nice to see you again. Why," she giggled "It must have been years! We shall have to spend some time catching up!" Despite her innocently girlish tone, her eyes met Jack's meaningfully, transforming her casual words into an invitation to something more.
Feeling decidedly uncomfortable in her presence, Jack returned her gaze warily. He prided himself on his ability to read people and he sensed something about Eliza that made him uneasy. There was a certain quality about her that seemed false. Although she smiled at him, her mouth was set in a hard line, and he sensed a spiteful nature that lurked just below the surface. Jack guessed that she was a girl accustomed to getting her own way. "Sure" he replied noncommitedly "But not right now.. I'm kind of tired" he offered by way of explanation.
"Oh of course!" Pete's mother cried. "How thoughtless of me- come along, we'll get you settled." She bustled of down the hall carrying Jack's few belongings. As Jack followed her, he felt Eliza's eyes upon him. She smiled again, staring straight at him and twirling a strand of hair absent mindedly around her fingers. "I'll be just down the hall, Jack.. if you need anything." she added meaningfully.
Jack spoke carefully, trying to hide the rage that was building inside him. "I don't think that will be necessary, Eliza," he replied in measured tones. "Thanks anyway." As he headed down the hall, he could feel his hands trembling with anger. Who did she think she was? He had barely been in the house ten minutes, and she was making her intentions obvious. Again he was reminded of his initial unease at staying in this house, and vowed to keep a safe distance from Eliza Townsend whenever possible. Although, Jack mused, remembering the determination in the girl's eyes, that may not be as easy as he would wish.
The small waiting room was dank and dark, and as far as Rose could see, empty apart from a bored looking clerk manning the ticket office. Nervously, she glanced behind her, hoping that nobody had followed her. A quick glance around the door revealed nobody, and she felt relief flood her body. Perhaps this was really going to work, she thought, her heart quickening. Taking a deep breath, she stepped towards the booking office, trying to compose herself. It was almost too much to bear; in mere minutes her whole life had spun around, and she knew that once this decision was made, there was no turning back.
The man behind the counter looked up in surprise as he heard her footsteps approaching. He snapped the book he was reading shut, glancing down at it reluctantly as though he regretted the intrusion. Gazing at Rose curiously, he ran his fingers through his greasy hair, pondering what she could be doing here. It certainly wasn't usual for well bred young ladies to travel alone. "Well, missy" he drawled rudely. "What can I do for you?"
Rose looked at him nervously, glancing over her shoulder once more. "Well," she began hesitantly "I was wondering... hoping... that you might be able to tell me when the next train passes through Chippewa Falls?" The words came out in a rush as she tried to hide the excitement in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was for this insipid man to remember her too clearly when Cal and Ruth inevitably arrived looking for her.
"Chippewa Falls, huh? That'd be in Wisconsin then, Missy?" he inquired, flipping through a large timetable. "Well, it appears you have quite a wait- next train doesn't leave for nigh on a week and a half." With that he slammed the timetable shut and picked up his book again. Glancing in Rose's direction, he added "Will that be all, then?"
Rose felt the disappointment echo through her heart, but firmly told herself not to let it bother her. An hour ago, she hadn't known that Jack was alive. Certainly she could wait another week. "No," she spoke faintly. "That will be fine." And, scarcely knowing where she was going, she picked up her bags and walked out of the station.
Standing alone in the street, Rose felt an uncharacteristic giggle escape her lips. Suddenly the whole situation struck her as wonderfully absurd. Here she was, alone in a big city with only the change in her purse and no idea where she was going. "Jack would be proud of me," she thought delightedly. She set of down the street, her light travel bag balanced under her arm. There didn't seem any particular place to go, so she kept wandering until a notice caught her eye. "Room to rent."
Rose stood on the street, studying the sign oblivious to the stairs of passers by. Eventually, she shrugged her shoulders fatalistically. "Why not," she murmured. "After all, it's only for a week," she thought as she headed up the stairs, an excited smile on her face.
