Morning in California. The West Coast. The Horizon. Welcome to Santa Monica Rose Dawson.
I felt as if a chapter in my life had closed. But now a new one had opened up before me. I'd miss my friends, but I was excited.
But for the moment I was at peace in my little hotel room by the sea. Days of trains. From Galveston to Houston, Houston to Dallas, Dallas to Los Angeles. Now I was glad to sleep someplace that didn't move.
I made plans for myself that day, plans that consisted of roller coasters, horseback riding, the beach, and low-quality alcohol.
*What shall I do here in California?* I thought to myself. Perhaps I'd find a job here. In a restaurant? God knows I had experience with that. But I had to remind myself I wouldn't be working for Maria, although she herself could be quite scary at times. But waitressing seemed like a good start. But I'd start my job search in a few days.
Although working as a clerk or a waitress down by the shore seemed quite pleasant I had my sights set on a bigger fish.
Initially, I wanted to return to acting as I had in New York and see if I could maybe break into the film industry. I had bit of a reputation in Manhattan, a very small one, mostly among the bohemian types, but a reputation nonetheless.
But there was something else I had always wanted. Something I had been so close to before. I had gone to the best schools, trained in the sciences as well as the arts. When I graduated from Miss Clement's Academy for Ladies in 1911 I thought I was headed straight for Radcliff. Unfortunately, my father's debt made that impossible. I wanted to be an educated person. I wanted a skill. I wanted to learn something.
Financially, I could afford an education. College tuitions were not so outrageous then. I had some of the money I'd been able to scrap up from Columbus, the money I earned in Galveston, and my large "savings account" I silently referred to as my "pocket money."
*Hmmm,* I thought rolling out of bed. "Let's see," I said aloud, pulling out all my money. "I can do this."
***
The weather was perfect, the smell of the air, the sea breeze. Gorgeous. I wandered around town with that sentiment for a while until I realized I was lost, then I continued as I was anyway. It didn't matter, I'd find my way back when I needed to.
Luckily, my aimlessness got me somewhere. I found my way down by the pier ready to board a roller coaster. Waiting in line I met my future ride buddies.
"Ever been on one of these things before?" A woman about my age turned to me.
"Oh no, never." I waved my hand.
"Me neither. Aren't you nervous? You seem as relaxed as him." She motioned her head to a little boy behind us. He had fallen asleep in father's arms.
"Of course I am, but that's half the fun isn't it?"
"I guess so," she laughed, "I'm Ellen Sobel."
"Rose Dawson." We shook hands.
"Oh, this is Rick." She nudged the man next to her.
"Hi," he said, "Rick Calvert."
"Rose Dawson. Nice to meet you…Calvert, do you have a brother in Manhattan, a cop?"
"George?"
"Yes!" I thought I heard mention of George's brother Richard in California.
"Wait a minute," he said, "Rose Dawson…the body?"
I smiled and shook my head. "Yes, that's me."
"Yeah, your one of George's favorite stories." said Ellen.
"Now we're hearing about some trouble you caused on a train." Rick smiled.
"I didn't cause it…maybe I didn't really help it either, but what can I say." *Wait, train…idol…* With all the excitement over the idol we had all completely forgotten the idol. In retrospect I should have sent it to New York with Mary, but I would have to figure out where to send it when I got home. Maybe I'd track down Mrs. Brown, she'd see it to a proper museum.
I had an Aztecan idol, King Louie's Heart of the Ocean, and the belongings of a dead woman in my room. I could have started my own museum.
"We're up!" Rick shouted.
I was about to grab my own seat when Ellen and Rick offered to sit with them. I took my seat next Rick.
"The brave man sitting in the comfort spot between two women." Ellen narrated.
"Well, Ellie, I guess you're just so very strong and masculine that I need your protection."
"Listen to this man." Ellen shook her head.
"I can't say much boyfriends either. One big chore." *Manny…* I shook my head and smiled.
"Oh, it's a bit worse than that I'm afraid." She showed her engagement ring. It was quite nice, a garnet, not tiny, but not gaudy.
"Well, at least it's nice ring." I grinned.
"Now if only it went with a nice man."
"I'm too rugged to be 'nice.'"
Ellen I both burst out in laughter. Ellen kissed her man on the cheek as we began to move forward.
"Here we go." I said trying to control my excitement.
Next we were dropping up and down rolling through the tracks at high speeds.
"This is the big one!" shouted Rick. He'd been on this roller coaster alone about thirteen times.
"WAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!" We hollered in unison. I threw my arms in the air and closed my eyes letting the wind pull my arms and hair into the heavens.
After our third ride we decided to go down the stables. I was only slightly disappointed that I did not throw up afterwards. *Perhaps I should I had a snack right before…But no matter!*
"El, what are you doing?" Rick asked his fiancée.
Ellen appeared to be riding sidesaddle. "I always wanted to know how people do this and-ooofff!" She slid of and landed right on her butt. "…stayed on."
"Are you alright?" we asked.
"I'm fine." Rick got down to help her.
I could've given her a few pointers, but I chose not to.
We started riding together slowly at first until I spotted the shore up ahead.
"Come on! Let's go down there. We'll ride right in the surf!"
"Wait Rose!" Ellen shouted after me as I rode up ahead of them.
I ran my horse up the shoreline until Rick and Ellen caught up with me. The horse seemed as enthusiastic as I was. He seemed kick the water up in my face on purpose.
"You're nice and wet now." Rick commented.
I just grinned at them.
"Listen, Rose you're welcome to join us for lunch if you'd like."
"Oh sure."
"Did somebody say lunch?" Rick chimed.
We started to ride on when Rick stopped us before we came toward the roller coaster.
"Wait there!" He pointed to me. "Perfect shot!" He pulled his bag around reached for his camera. "Smile!"
***
"Anything to drink?" asked the waiter.
"Yes," I said thoughtfully, "give me the nastiest, cheapest, most God awful beer you have." He raised his eyes as did Ellen and Rick.
"Long story." I shrugged.
When our food came around the waiter laid my beer right in front of me. I took a sip.
"How's it taste, partner?" Rick inquired.
"It's positively disgusting!" I announced with a certain level of delight.
"Happy now?" Ellen laughed.
"Absolutely!" I took several more gulp and turned toward my new friends, smirking. "Ah! Perfect."
After lunch Ellen and Rick went off to a prior engagement. It turned out Rick's apartment was not far from where I was staying. We made plans to meet again the following week.
***
I wandered freely through town for the rest of the afternoon, just exploring. At around seven o'clock I found myself down at the pier again. I walked on straight to the end.
I leaned against the railing. I shook my hair loose of its ponytail letting the ocean breeze ripple through my hair.
*It's so beautiful.* I thought staring into the sunset. "So beautiful." I whispered.
It had been four years since I'd seen such a breath-taking sunset. I climbed over and sat on the wooden rail. "Come Josephine in my flying machine, and it's up she goes, up she goes, balance yourself like a bird on a beam, in the air she goes, there she goes, up up a little bit higher, oh my the moon is on fire, come Josephine…"
The memory surrounded me. Nothing out in front of me but ocean and the sensation of Jack's chest on my back and his breath on my neck.
I felt my own voice trail off as if listening to someone else. I stared out ahead toward the ocean. It was a warm summer evening. A swim might have seemed a perfectly splendid idea, but as beach invited me, something bade me to stay where I was.
*Foolish you.* I thought. I was right on shore that very day. My horse even managed to douse me with seawater. In the spring I had even managed to get myself on a boat no less, and maintain my nerves, barely, but still successful.
But there was something about being submerged. Surrounded, with no sides of a bathtub to reassure me, no floor to walk onto. Submerged and helpless, surrounded by nature's most unmerciful lady. I looked out at the swimmers and boaters paddling and laughing in the water. I wondered if they knew how helpless they were.
But how helpless we all were everyday. They should be laughing and enjoying life.
***
I stayed at the pier for another hour people watching. It was always one of my favorite hobbies, especially when I was sad.
Back in my room I pulled out the Heart of the Ocean again. I laid it out in front of me on the bed. It occurred to me I hadn't actually worn it in years. I thought of wearing it around my neck for a minute just because, but found that I couldn't quite bring myself to do it.
I put it away again and crawled underneath the covers. I pulled the blanket over my head leaving only my face sticking out. I hadn't felt this comfortable in long time.
Oddly enough I felt a hot tear streaming down my cheek. I'd been crying for a while before I actually noticed it. I did, however, immediately notice the familiar aching in my arms. Then, as it always did, it spread to my chest and legs, and eventually overtook my whole body.
I fell asleep not long after that, haunted by the memory of a familiar smell, knowing that I'd never truly sense that scent again.
***
The next week I found a job waiting tables in a small café. I moved into a cheap apartment three blocks away. I worked everyday from eight to eight except Thursdays and Sundays. And, without fail, I went to at least one audition every Sunday and Thursday for three weeks.
By mid-August I hadn't managed to land any roles, not even as an extra. I knew it was early in the game so I didn't fret much over it. By this point I'd nearly given up any hopes of attending college, which I initially chose to do first before I decided to go back into acting.
Unfortunately, I had no way of proving I had an education without exposing myself. Dead people don't run for office, and they don't go to school either. Well, I could be Rose DeWitt Bukater and be dead, or I could be Rose Dawson and not exist. I was one of the two, at least on paper.
But it was that same time around mid-August that my luck changed. That's when I met Gigi.
Gigi DuBois was an up and coming Hollywood film star. On screen her natural charm, her round, boyish face and girlish smile delighted audiences. Off screen her natural charm, talent for manipulation, and drinking problem left no one questioning her motives.
Miss DuBois made it a hobby of wandering aimlessly around Santa Monica for hours on end. One day she wandered past the café as I was leaving work.
"I know you." said a voice behind me. I turned around. Strangely, I didn't know her. "You were at the studio yesterday."
"Yes I was." I tried to think of something else to say to this person.
"I'm Gigi. Gigi DuBois. You haven't heard of me…yet."
"Well, I guess I've heard of you now. I'm Rose Dawson."
"I know. I'm the star of the picture you were auditioning for. I'm just previewing my co-star." I looked at her like she must be mad. "You got the part. They weren't going to tell until tomorrow, but I found you here so I guess you ought to know."
"Oh…I…I…" I broke myself off and smiled. It wasn't a large part. I would play Edith to Gigi's Cora Smith in "A Day in the Park." It was a short film about ditsy girl who causes trouble in you guessed it, a park. Edith is Cora's proper older sister who appears only in the first scene.
"Come on let's celebrate." Gigi was naturally excited. Her contract had her making four films with the studio. This was her third one, the next would be a full length feature and would probably lead her to full blown stardom and a larger, more lucrative contract.
***
"I'm going to be the next Mary Pickford. Only bigger." Gigi announced after her fourth shot."
"Getting a little cocky, are we?"
"No, give me a few more of these. Then you'll see cocky."
"Darn," I sighed, "that was my last cigarette."
"Oh, I don't buy my own cigarettes anymore."
"You don't?" I asked suspiciously.
"No fun that way." Gigi had a particular way of flirting for everything she needed. Her greatest talent seemed to be for making men her little playthings. By the end of the evening I found myself pulling her away from two young men and forcing her drunken self into a cab. It wasn't an easy task. She could be pretty ruthless for a nineteen year-old.
Luckily, she was sober enough to remember her address. At least I hoped it was her address.
***
A week later we filmed the picture. She could be difficult and diva-like, but she took a particular liking to me so I was spared her wrath for the most part. I only showed up for one day to film my scene, but after Gigi still came to visit me and take me out drinking.
One night we got drawn into a conversation about my wanting to go to college.
"I can't. Or at least I can't figure how."
"Why?"
"Well, you see…Dawson isn't my legal name."
"Then use your real name when you apply. Do you think 'Gigi DuBois' is my real name?"
"I didn't change my name for acting…it's very complicated. Let's just say I'll have legal issues. I can't use my real name and I have nothing with this one."
"Not if you make the papers yourself."
What did she say? "Excuse me?"
"My friend does it all the time. Mostly fake licenses, like law and dentistry."
"Well that's comforting, Gig."
"He can get you a birth certificate and a diploma from where ever it was you graduated from, not to mention he write official letters, like say if you want the dean of your school to write a letter of recommendation. He's that good."
"Where in the hell do you find these people?"
"Honey, I've dated half the con-artists in Southern California."
"You're a real piece of work you know that?"
"So you want me to call my friend?" I hugged her. "Uh Rose? Loosen up. Gigi needs to breathe. Rose?"
***
The next week I had my diploma from Miss Clement's Academy dated 1911, a letter from the Dean talking about me, it didn't say much except that Miss Rose Dawson had graduated fifth in her class, (actually Rose DeWitt Bukater had, but hopefully no one would check), and a birth certificate for Rose Cornelia Dawson born February 24, 1895 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The state seal used on my birth certificate was the only flaw. It was adopted in 1907.
I felt as if a chapter in my life had closed. But now a new one had opened up before me. I'd miss my friends, but I was excited.
But for the moment I was at peace in my little hotel room by the sea. Days of trains. From Galveston to Houston, Houston to Dallas, Dallas to Los Angeles. Now I was glad to sleep someplace that didn't move.
I made plans for myself that day, plans that consisted of roller coasters, horseback riding, the beach, and low-quality alcohol.
*What shall I do here in California?* I thought to myself. Perhaps I'd find a job here. In a restaurant? God knows I had experience with that. But I had to remind myself I wouldn't be working for Maria, although she herself could be quite scary at times. But waitressing seemed like a good start. But I'd start my job search in a few days.
Although working as a clerk or a waitress down by the shore seemed quite pleasant I had my sights set on a bigger fish.
Initially, I wanted to return to acting as I had in New York and see if I could maybe break into the film industry. I had bit of a reputation in Manhattan, a very small one, mostly among the bohemian types, but a reputation nonetheless.
But there was something else I had always wanted. Something I had been so close to before. I had gone to the best schools, trained in the sciences as well as the arts. When I graduated from Miss Clement's Academy for Ladies in 1911 I thought I was headed straight for Radcliff. Unfortunately, my father's debt made that impossible. I wanted to be an educated person. I wanted a skill. I wanted to learn something.
Financially, I could afford an education. College tuitions were not so outrageous then. I had some of the money I'd been able to scrap up from Columbus, the money I earned in Galveston, and my large "savings account" I silently referred to as my "pocket money."
*Hmmm,* I thought rolling out of bed. "Let's see," I said aloud, pulling out all my money. "I can do this."
***
The weather was perfect, the smell of the air, the sea breeze. Gorgeous. I wandered around town with that sentiment for a while until I realized I was lost, then I continued as I was anyway. It didn't matter, I'd find my way back when I needed to.
Luckily, my aimlessness got me somewhere. I found my way down by the pier ready to board a roller coaster. Waiting in line I met my future ride buddies.
"Ever been on one of these things before?" A woman about my age turned to me.
"Oh no, never." I waved my hand.
"Me neither. Aren't you nervous? You seem as relaxed as him." She motioned her head to a little boy behind us. He had fallen asleep in father's arms.
"Of course I am, but that's half the fun isn't it?"
"I guess so," she laughed, "I'm Ellen Sobel."
"Rose Dawson." We shook hands.
"Oh, this is Rick." She nudged the man next to her.
"Hi," he said, "Rick Calvert."
"Rose Dawson. Nice to meet you…Calvert, do you have a brother in Manhattan, a cop?"
"George?"
"Yes!" I thought I heard mention of George's brother Richard in California.
"Wait a minute," he said, "Rose Dawson…the body?"
I smiled and shook my head. "Yes, that's me."
"Yeah, your one of George's favorite stories." said Ellen.
"Now we're hearing about some trouble you caused on a train." Rick smiled.
"I didn't cause it…maybe I didn't really help it either, but what can I say." *Wait, train…idol…* With all the excitement over the idol we had all completely forgotten the idol. In retrospect I should have sent it to New York with Mary, but I would have to figure out where to send it when I got home. Maybe I'd track down Mrs. Brown, she'd see it to a proper museum.
I had an Aztecan idol, King Louie's Heart of the Ocean, and the belongings of a dead woman in my room. I could have started my own museum.
"We're up!" Rick shouted.
I was about to grab my own seat when Ellen and Rick offered to sit with them. I took my seat next Rick.
"The brave man sitting in the comfort spot between two women." Ellen narrated.
"Well, Ellie, I guess you're just so very strong and masculine that I need your protection."
"Listen to this man." Ellen shook her head.
"I can't say much boyfriends either. One big chore." *Manny…* I shook my head and smiled.
"Oh, it's a bit worse than that I'm afraid." She showed her engagement ring. It was quite nice, a garnet, not tiny, but not gaudy.
"Well, at least it's nice ring." I grinned.
"Now if only it went with a nice man."
"I'm too rugged to be 'nice.'"
Ellen I both burst out in laughter. Ellen kissed her man on the cheek as we began to move forward.
"Here we go." I said trying to control my excitement.
Next we were dropping up and down rolling through the tracks at high speeds.
"This is the big one!" shouted Rick. He'd been on this roller coaster alone about thirteen times.
"WAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!" We hollered in unison. I threw my arms in the air and closed my eyes letting the wind pull my arms and hair into the heavens.
After our third ride we decided to go down the stables. I was only slightly disappointed that I did not throw up afterwards. *Perhaps I should I had a snack right before…But no matter!*
"El, what are you doing?" Rick asked his fiancée.
Ellen appeared to be riding sidesaddle. "I always wanted to know how people do this and-ooofff!" She slid of and landed right on her butt. "…stayed on."
"Are you alright?" we asked.
"I'm fine." Rick got down to help her.
I could've given her a few pointers, but I chose not to.
We started riding together slowly at first until I spotted the shore up ahead.
"Come on! Let's go down there. We'll ride right in the surf!"
"Wait Rose!" Ellen shouted after me as I rode up ahead of them.
I ran my horse up the shoreline until Rick and Ellen caught up with me. The horse seemed as enthusiastic as I was. He seemed kick the water up in my face on purpose.
"You're nice and wet now." Rick commented.
I just grinned at them.
"Listen, Rose you're welcome to join us for lunch if you'd like."
"Oh sure."
"Did somebody say lunch?" Rick chimed.
We started to ride on when Rick stopped us before we came toward the roller coaster.
"Wait there!" He pointed to me. "Perfect shot!" He pulled his bag around reached for his camera. "Smile!"
***
"Anything to drink?" asked the waiter.
"Yes," I said thoughtfully, "give me the nastiest, cheapest, most God awful beer you have." He raised his eyes as did Ellen and Rick.
"Long story." I shrugged.
When our food came around the waiter laid my beer right in front of me. I took a sip.
"How's it taste, partner?" Rick inquired.
"It's positively disgusting!" I announced with a certain level of delight.
"Happy now?" Ellen laughed.
"Absolutely!" I took several more gulp and turned toward my new friends, smirking. "Ah! Perfect."
After lunch Ellen and Rick went off to a prior engagement. It turned out Rick's apartment was not far from where I was staying. We made plans to meet again the following week.
***
I wandered freely through town for the rest of the afternoon, just exploring. At around seven o'clock I found myself down at the pier again. I walked on straight to the end.
I leaned against the railing. I shook my hair loose of its ponytail letting the ocean breeze ripple through my hair.
*It's so beautiful.* I thought staring into the sunset. "So beautiful." I whispered.
It had been four years since I'd seen such a breath-taking sunset. I climbed over and sat on the wooden rail. "Come Josephine in my flying machine, and it's up she goes, up she goes, balance yourself like a bird on a beam, in the air she goes, there she goes, up up a little bit higher, oh my the moon is on fire, come Josephine…"
The memory surrounded me. Nothing out in front of me but ocean and the sensation of Jack's chest on my back and his breath on my neck.
I felt my own voice trail off as if listening to someone else. I stared out ahead toward the ocean. It was a warm summer evening. A swim might have seemed a perfectly splendid idea, but as beach invited me, something bade me to stay where I was.
*Foolish you.* I thought. I was right on shore that very day. My horse even managed to douse me with seawater. In the spring I had even managed to get myself on a boat no less, and maintain my nerves, barely, but still successful.
But there was something about being submerged. Surrounded, with no sides of a bathtub to reassure me, no floor to walk onto. Submerged and helpless, surrounded by nature's most unmerciful lady. I looked out at the swimmers and boaters paddling and laughing in the water. I wondered if they knew how helpless they were.
But how helpless we all were everyday. They should be laughing and enjoying life.
***
I stayed at the pier for another hour people watching. It was always one of my favorite hobbies, especially when I was sad.
Back in my room I pulled out the Heart of the Ocean again. I laid it out in front of me on the bed. It occurred to me I hadn't actually worn it in years. I thought of wearing it around my neck for a minute just because, but found that I couldn't quite bring myself to do it.
I put it away again and crawled underneath the covers. I pulled the blanket over my head leaving only my face sticking out. I hadn't felt this comfortable in long time.
Oddly enough I felt a hot tear streaming down my cheek. I'd been crying for a while before I actually noticed it. I did, however, immediately notice the familiar aching in my arms. Then, as it always did, it spread to my chest and legs, and eventually overtook my whole body.
I fell asleep not long after that, haunted by the memory of a familiar smell, knowing that I'd never truly sense that scent again.
***
The next week I found a job waiting tables in a small café. I moved into a cheap apartment three blocks away. I worked everyday from eight to eight except Thursdays and Sundays. And, without fail, I went to at least one audition every Sunday and Thursday for three weeks.
By mid-August I hadn't managed to land any roles, not even as an extra. I knew it was early in the game so I didn't fret much over it. By this point I'd nearly given up any hopes of attending college, which I initially chose to do first before I decided to go back into acting.
Unfortunately, I had no way of proving I had an education without exposing myself. Dead people don't run for office, and they don't go to school either. Well, I could be Rose DeWitt Bukater and be dead, or I could be Rose Dawson and not exist. I was one of the two, at least on paper.
But it was that same time around mid-August that my luck changed. That's when I met Gigi.
Gigi DuBois was an up and coming Hollywood film star. On screen her natural charm, her round, boyish face and girlish smile delighted audiences. Off screen her natural charm, talent for manipulation, and drinking problem left no one questioning her motives.
Miss DuBois made it a hobby of wandering aimlessly around Santa Monica for hours on end. One day she wandered past the café as I was leaving work.
"I know you." said a voice behind me. I turned around. Strangely, I didn't know her. "You were at the studio yesterday."
"Yes I was." I tried to think of something else to say to this person.
"I'm Gigi. Gigi DuBois. You haven't heard of me…yet."
"Well, I guess I've heard of you now. I'm Rose Dawson."
"I know. I'm the star of the picture you were auditioning for. I'm just previewing my co-star." I looked at her like she must be mad. "You got the part. They weren't going to tell until tomorrow, but I found you here so I guess you ought to know."
"Oh…I…I…" I broke myself off and smiled. It wasn't a large part. I would play Edith to Gigi's Cora Smith in "A Day in the Park." It was a short film about ditsy girl who causes trouble in you guessed it, a park. Edith is Cora's proper older sister who appears only in the first scene.
"Come on let's celebrate." Gigi was naturally excited. Her contract had her making four films with the studio. This was her third one, the next would be a full length feature and would probably lead her to full blown stardom and a larger, more lucrative contract.
***
"I'm going to be the next Mary Pickford. Only bigger." Gigi announced after her fourth shot."
"Getting a little cocky, are we?"
"No, give me a few more of these. Then you'll see cocky."
"Darn," I sighed, "that was my last cigarette."
"Oh, I don't buy my own cigarettes anymore."
"You don't?" I asked suspiciously.
"No fun that way." Gigi had a particular way of flirting for everything she needed. Her greatest talent seemed to be for making men her little playthings. By the end of the evening I found myself pulling her away from two young men and forcing her drunken self into a cab. It wasn't an easy task. She could be pretty ruthless for a nineteen year-old.
Luckily, she was sober enough to remember her address. At least I hoped it was her address.
***
A week later we filmed the picture. She could be difficult and diva-like, but she took a particular liking to me so I was spared her wrath for the most part. I only showed up for one day to film my scene, but after Gigi still came to visit me and take me out drinking.
One night we got drawn into a conversation about my wanting to go to college.
"I can't. Or at least I can't figure how."
"Why?"
"Well, you see…Dawson isn't my legal name."
"Then use your real name when you apply. Do you think 'Gigi DuBois' is my real name?"
"I didn't change my name for acting…it's very complicated. Let's just say I'll have legal issues. I can't use my real name and I have nothing with this one."
"Not if you make the papers yourself."
What did she say? "Excuse me?"
"My friend does it all the time. Mostly fake licenses, like law and dentistry."
"Well that's comforting, Gig."
"He can get you a birth certificate and a diploma from where ever it was you graduated from, not to mention he write official letters, like say if you want the dean of your school to write a letter of recommendation. He's that good."
"Where in the hell do you find these people?"
"Honey, I've dated half the con-artists in Southern California."
"You're a real piece of work you know that?"
"So you want me to call my friend?" I hugged her. "Uh Rose? Loosen up. Gigi needs to breathe. Rose?"
***
The next week I had my diploma from Miss Clement's Academy dated 1911, a letter from the Dean talking about me, it didn't say much except that Miss Rose Dawson had graduated fifth in her class, (actually Rose DeWitt Bukater had, but hopefully no one would check), and a birth certificate for Rose Cornelia Dawson born February 24, 1895 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The state seal used on my birth certificate was the only flaw. It was adopted in 1907.