New Year's Eve 1919
Los Angeles, California
It was the last day alcohol would be legal in the United States and people were drinking more than ever. I seriously doubted that prohibition would ever work. Nothing would keep the thirsty masses from their drinks.
I looked around the smoke filled room trying to locate Gigi. Another big party with stars, drinks, and drugs. It was like my old world all over again only looser. I passed by Bob Holmes, a photographer on the last two pictures I'd been in. I'd been in four features since I'd arrived. The one I was wrapping up was my second non-Gigi. Bob gave me sensual look. He was drunk and he wasn't getting more from me. *If he thinks for a moment.if he comes near me.*
I had to leave. Not just the party, but L.A, too. Nursing was originally a plan B in case acting didn't pay off as I had hoped. But now it seemed the more appealing option. I loved acting itself. The particular crowd I had chosen in Los Angeles I was less enchanted with, save for my boyfriend and Gigi. I was going to tell Gigi I was leaving as soon as my next picture wrapped. I thought I was so lucky to find success so easily in less than a year, but at what a price.
The whole year had been one big distortion, one never-ending nightmare, one big false hope. I was going back to New York in two weeks and no one was going to stop me. I was finally ready to seek out Emily and Joe Dawson and tell them the truth. *Oh no.* I remembered. I had to confront and break things off with Dale, too. I promised myself that I'd be out of there in two weeks.
I looked all night and couldn't find either of them. I gave up. I still had two weeks to give them notice and I would be on my way. I needed to get home now. My cozy little apartment I had moved into over the summer. I was so proud of it when I first got there. Now I couldn't wait to get out. To explain everything I should probably start from the beginning.
***
The moment I got on the train on my first day back in the States I decided to move my 'trust fund' a.k.a the $200, 000 from Cal's coat from the coat within my suitcase to a handbag I used to stow away my regular money. *It's as good as my money anyway, might as well keep with the rest.* I knew, I'd get to Los Angeles, buy myself a nice house-enough to live comfortably, but nothing too big or lavish, put the rest in the bank, and see if I couldn't look up Gigi. This was a very, very big and foolish mistake on my part.
Somewhere between trains I decided to go for a hike, no reason to hurry my trip. I also thought a venture in the wonder of nature would get my mind off Holden-he was all I thought about.
I had been exploring the public forests and parks in and around Klamath, Oregon for about a week when I decided to moved southwards into California. I decided to go on a hike I got myself map and picked a trail. There weren't many people around as it was February. Under normal circumstances I would have been at little wary of being so alone, but I desperately wanted and needed that right now. I had to get away from the civilized world awhile. I took the Little North Fork Trailhead and set off early in the morning. I hadn't gotten up early in a month. It was hard getting out of bed, especially when I was the only there to haunt me and tell me to get ready. Eventually, I did make it out from my lodge room to the park.
It was cold, but I had on a warm winter coat and clothes. I brought all my belongings with me for I planned to stay at the campsites in Devils Canyon Meadow. The first few hours weren't too bad. After a while my bags got heavy and I got hungry. I stopped at a convenient looking spot just off the trail to eat my lunch. I thought of walking because it didn't look like I would make it there by evening. Then I remembered what the tired, hungry Rose was like and realized there would be no one to bitch and whine to, so I sat down and ate.
After I finished eating I climbed over to gigantic rock I had been eying while I was eating. It was slightly further off the trail-as in I saw it from a distance and it took ten minutes to get there. Once I reached it seemed worthwhile. The view was gorgeous. It was still at a low elevation, but the way the sun hit the trees, most of which were enormous cedars, it was absolutely beautiful. I could see much of the Marble Mountain Wilderness: cedars, lakes and streams. It was perfect and beautiful, like it was just the way God intended.
It was then my lack of sleep and physical exertion caught up with me and I decided to rest my head for a spell. The brief rest turned into a nap, which lasted for a little longer than I would have thought. I moved my head from my suitcase. I scrunched my toes in my big boots. They were going numb. I glanced at my watch.
"Oh shit!" It was three in the afternoon. I'd never make it before dark. I got up, looking around in what was now only a slight panic. I went to look over to the opposite side. Running across, I slipped and fell. I came down funny on my left ankle. I heard a distinct crack. *Oh shit.* I tried to get up and stand on it, but it was so painful. After several pathetic and agonizing attempts to stand on it I sat down. A moment later I regained my breath and hobbled around looking for any sign of human life. Nothing.
But then-people! Two of them. Men. Down on the trail. I could see them! I wasted no time.
"HEY!" I called as loud as I could. "HEY! PLEASE HELP!" Nothing. It was far, but they could surely hear me. Were they ignoring me? I couldn't fathom why. "PLEASE!!!!" I screamed. "Shit shit shit!!!" I cursed to myself.
After an eternity of screaming they disappeared. Desperate for anything I crawled over to my suitcases. I rummaged through the first one that I had used as a pillow then went to the next. One of the locks was undone. I could have just not snapped it tight. I opened it. The moneybag was missing. Now I knew why they were ignoring me. They thought I was reacting to being robbed. It wasn't just Cal's money. It was also the $900 I had saved over the years. I checked everywhere. I had three dollars. For the first time I was truly destitute. What a fool I had been in Chicago. I considered myself as good as penniless then when I had run out of "my" money. It wasn't a horrific disaster and the decision to abandon everything I had known before that really left me insolvent, but a quiet burglary. *Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, Oh God, oh God.*
"My coat money," "my pocket money," "my savings account," "my children's college fund," "the Hockley Steel charity donation," those were all the names I referred to Cal's money as. I rarely ever spoke them aloud, merely thought them in my head. I couldn't get it back now. I couldn't even climb down. I'd sat by the side, contemplating how to get down with all my stuff. But it proved impossible. I was stuck.
I put my head back on my suitcase and cried. After an hour or so it got dark and I stopped weeping. I thought I might sleep again, but it was getting cold. I had a particular hatred of extreme cold. It was February in the mountains of Northern California. This was beyond not good.
"I don't care. I don't fucking care." I declared and laid my head back on the suitcase. Then I felt a little drop of wet cold on my lower lip. I stuck out my tongue.waiting. Another one. I sat up, looking around and squinting. Yes, snowflakes. "Oh bloody." I cried. It was time to be resourceful.
I had had worse. The most scared I'd ever been was not Titanic, but Argonne. There was no Jack to be strong for me. There was just as much death, more actually. But there I had to be the strong one; Jack couldn't do it for me. I was fearing for my own life, but now I was the one in charge of the other person's. Tobey was too hurt to care for his own or anybody else's.yet still he thought of me and voiced it when he saw the knife. Yet, each time my number one concern was for the man next to me. And each time my worst fears were consummated. Now there was only me. And my worst fear was *my* death. I was beginning to think my number was finally up.
I pulled out my cigarette lighter. *Haha. Didn't get my lighter you sons of bitches.* Granted all they took was the money. I put stones together in a circle, collected twigs and began tearing up the empty sheets of paper from my notebook. I lit a sheet with one flick of the lighter and placed it in. It slowly grew to a roaring fire. I took my clothes from one suitcase and made a makeshift pillow and threw my A.E.F. cape over my middle as a blanket. *Didn't teach me this in finishing school.*
I slept only a few hours and got up again to tend to the fire. The snow had not amounted to more than a flurry. I was lucky this time. I got more wood and collected and saved any other useless paper I could find. I wished right then I could be in Columbus the way it was. My friends were there where I needed them, the weather would be mild, Mary was still alive, and save for the end, it was always safe and peaceful.
I closed my eyes and rested for another hour. I couldn't risk falling into a deep sleep again. I wondered how long I could keep the fire going. I certainly didn't want frostbite. By morning the temperatures wouldn't be as harsh, but it would still be cold and I hoped that the fire would attract the attention of someone friendly.
The next morning I checked out my ankle. It was most definitely broken. If I were one of my patients I would have forbidden me to walk on it, but I didn't have much of a choice. I did the most I could for it, made a splint and wrapped it tight with a blouse. I had two sandwiches and half a canteen of water-there wasn't enough snow where I was to melt to make enough water. For the first time I was so helpless and alone. My only choice was to hope someone came along. I was left to the mercy of anything. I felt like a useless leech. My sense and medical training told me there was no way I could safely climb down. I'd most likely kill myself if I tried. I shouldn't have gone up in the first place. I remembered making the two trips up so I could get both my suitcases up there. *I should have bought duffels instead.*
Today was my birthday, too. I was twenty-four. I wouldn't have imagined it before, but today was bleaker then my seventeenth. My cousin Victoria's birthday was a few weeks ago. On her eighth birthday she declared herself '8 on the 8th' and we concluded I would be '24 on the 24th' and here I was. I lit myself a cigarette. *Happy Birthday Me.* As I learned from Holden she was married to Adam Christianson with a little girl named Blythe.
As the day went on I started talking to myself, after all, throwing rocks off the edge and seeing how far they would go would only entertain for so long and I kept up the routines of the fire and planned to have a half a sandwich at the end of the day. Not that I had anything against turkey sandwiches, but what I really wanted was smoked gouda cheese. Don't ask why. After my dinner of half a turkey sandwich I sang myself "Happy Birthday"-I worked on hitting the notes perfectly. Extreme boredom was overtaking me.
By the next morning I started raving monologues to wilderness. Here's a few of them:
"This is my rock now. It is my home. This my God damn rock. I hereby declare this 'Rose's God Damn Rock.' They can take my money, they can take my honor, but they can never take my rock! I'm Rose bloody Dawson and I'm free!!" After I ripped off Winston Churchill with that last line I decided to do some Shakespeare. I stood at the edge with a big stick for balance. I let my hair gloriously blow in the wind.
"This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day"
I sat down. The English army was not as roused as I had hoped. It was probably the greatest speech I'd ever known and I thought I did a very decent job of it. I looked a little more like Elizabeth I than Henry V, but I still thought it was good. I couldn't wait to go back to acting. I always loved the idea since I was a little girl, but I never got it right. Even when I practiced alone in my room where no one could hear me I still couldn't speak the words loud enough or with enough feeling or conviction. Somehow I knew it was in me somewhere. It wasn't until Jack came along that I could do it. He naturally brought it out of me. I wasn't afraid anymore-and even if I was I had the courage anyway.
I clutched my chest guiltily at the thought of him. I still loved him, I would all my life. But my love had changed and evolved. Even when I was with Manny I was still in love with Jack. But now truly loved someone else. For seven years there was no one but Jack. Now that had died. I owed too much to him to love Holden in his place! But I did. Sometimes I still wanted Jack, but it wasn't the same. Had he appeared in front of me at that very moment I would have leapt into his arms and never looked back, but that was never going to happen. But he was always 'the one', he was my soul mate, but I was passionately in love with someone else? It would only end if I forgot all about Jack Dawson, but that I could never do-nor did I ever want to. I was beginning to see his death for the harsh reality it was. But the man I wanted to love was Holden. Just to hear him call me Bukater again. I wanted see him, talk to him, hold him, kiss him, make love to him. All of these I seemed to have done well when I was with him, but I couldn't make him stay.
I woke up the next morning with half a sandwich left, no water, and Holden on my mind. I had been there for three days. It was only a few days, but I was starving and freezing. I'd be dead in a few more and I was at the mercy of anything willing to help. I was starting to go crazy-literally.
"Damn you, Holden! DAMN YOU!!" He knew about me. After all I'd done he'd never betray me. It was our secret alone: Rose and Holden's special, glorious, and delectable secret. He knew everything except for Jack and Cal's actions, but I let him have a pretty good idea of it. I only gave Mrs. Brown a brief history. (By the way, I sent her the idol and she saw it to a proper museum.) He knew much more than she. We came from the same world and had the same views of it-views few other people would tolerate. "WHY?!" He loved me, he almost said it. He was too much of a coward to stay. I wondered if he was suffering as I was. A hard-earned trust and an unlikely friendship led to our rare bond and he gave it up so his life would be comfortable again. Damn our families. They got the better of him.
Maybe he didn't love me. Was he just using me? Things were starting to heat up a little just before he left 42. There was something between before either of us wanted to admit it to ourselves. But he was reeling after that first kiss and the way he made love to me. The moment I said it he had me against the wall and he couldn't get in soon enough. Obviously, he had wanted me, too, but I was the one who outright said it. Was he just giving the lady what she wanted? He was a good person at heart, but maybe he was a little more like his half-brother than I wanted to believe. P This might be where my romantic love for Jack started to truly die. "Look at you, Rose. Seven years hard work destroyed! You have nothing! Poor, sweet Jack Dawson. What a fool ever to believe in me. He was a little boy who fell for a beautiful girl and thought he saw something. It happens all the time. I'm beautiful, educated, and worldly and I'm a failure!!! I'm a GOD DAMN FAILURE!!!! I'M A FUCK-UP! I'M A NOBODY!" I screamed. I collapsed, straining my ankle. "I'm a Titanic survivor that's going to freeze to death! Can anybody hear me?! HELLOOOO????!!!!" God it was useless. I started mumbling to myself. "I've lost it. I've lost it. I should have married Manuel. I should have found my mother. I should have stayed in Baltimore and made my way to Johns Hopkins in ten years. I should have a nice little map of life like everyone. I'd be miserable and bored. BUT IT CAN'T BE AS BAD AS THIS!!"
Alice would have said this was a time for pray and hope. "You want a pray, Alice Grant?! Here's one." I looked up at the night sky, yelling at God and everyone else who was with Him and not. "Why me?! What did I do?! I'll throw myself off this cliff and nobody's going to stop me this time! You can't send me to hell, I'm already there, baby! Thank you, Jack. Thank you for leading the way into this new wonderful life! Thank you, Holden for falling in love with me and ditching me. Thank you, Papa for ruining our family business and lives and let's not forget my loving mother!" I wanted Mary so badly. Had she heard my cries and been on Earth with me she would be the first by heaven to reach me. "And Cal! You knew how much trouble they were in! You took advantage of them and you didn't think twice. And you took from me everything! EVERYTHING!!!" Jack's death was still a sore spot it seemed. "Stop testing me you Biblical figment! I'M NOT WORTH IT!!! I'M NOT WORTH IT!! STOP TESTING ME!! I WON'T FIGHT ANYMORE!!! STOP TESTING ME!!" I broke down crying. I couldn't scream anymore; I was too weak. I didn't listen to them, but the words 'no matter how hopeless' were still in my heart. I was still awake, but I could feel myself weakening. I crawled over to the slowly dying fire. I didn't have the will to fix it again.
I had survived so much. Now this. I was a war veteran with no home to be welcomed back to. I really wasn't considered a veteran, but that's what I was in truth. I wouldn't be officially recognized as one for another six decades. If someone had come up to me then and told me on that cold, hard rock that I would live another six decades I would have killed them dead.
Then I thought I heard a voice. The lifeboats were coming for me, but this time I just didn't care. I wished I had died there and be spared all this pain. As it got closer it sounded more and more familiar. I figured it was an illusion and I was just plunging further into derangement. I ignored it.
"HELLO?!" it called. "Anybody up there?!" I could here someone climbing up the rock. I waited there for a few minutes until I could hear boots scraping on the ground.
I went for my first instincts, which strangely enough, were to live. I grabbed the stick I'd been using for balance and tried to defend myself against who ever this man was. I saw him and he hesitated recognizing me. He was in shock at the sight of me. Not just that it was me, but also the sight I had become. "GET AWAY!!!" I screeched. Swinging the stick. I was too weak. I couldn't he wave him off. I was too frightened and mentally and physically strained to recognize him.
For the first seventeen years of my life I always hoped for just one strange coincidence that would be worth a story. There was nothing close to it until Titanic. Now my life was full of them. Most of which I would see were slowly weaving themselves together during the years I wished for them. This was perhaps the luckiest, but certainly not the last.
But for now I thought someone was attacking me and I tried to fight. He was on top of me now.
"Rose!" he cried and fought against my flailing arms. "Rose! Rose, stop it! It's me!! Look at me!!" He held my face and made me look. He was unsure what had happened to me and wasn't sure if I would know anything.
I saw him then. I grew up without anything close to a big brother, but here was the man who I would always consider as mine for my whole life. He came to my rescue now. I reached for him and sobbed in his arms.
"If you took better care of yourself I could sleep better at night." said Sammy.
"I broke my ankle. I couldn't get down and it was s-so cold and-"
"Hey, I'm here now. I can get you down and take you back. Do you understand?" I nodded. "Tell me everything later. Right now you need a doctor, kid."
"I'm only half a step down from one." He knew I was at Maryland, but the last letter I got from him was about a year ago.
"You graduated?" My cape was now under my heavy coat. I pulled out the collar of it to show him the red letters reading "A.E.F." He shook his head. "And then some." He walked around cleaning up and re-packing my things. He stopped after a few minutes. "Is this everything?" he asked. I looked around nodding.
"Happy Birthday slightly belated." I said. His birthday was the same day as mine. He was exactly nine years older than me.
"Happy Birthday slightly belated to you, too." His pack wasn't very full so he stuffed one of my suitcases in it. He remembered our time with the Villistas how I carried my one suitcase. He strapped two belts across me and secured it. He would climb down a few feet then help me where I was perched. He even carried me in some spots. It was an awkward and hard position: I held on to him from the front while he tried to move and grip with his hands, which would have been much easier without my suitcase. There were a few moments there where I was sure we would fall and regretted asking him if I could take my stuff, but we made it down in one piece.
By the time we were back on the trail it was dark. I moved my suitcase to my hand and leaned on Sammy for support. We were only about an hour from the campsite at Devils Canyon Meadow, but with my foot slowing us down it would take much longer. We made it there at eight o'clock and Sam brought me to a main cabin where I was attended to.
I stayed there for a few days with Sammy. Until I was deemed well enough to hike back with his help. We talked for hours catching up. He talked about the Sanchez's wedding and the funny stories that that entailed. He knew about Mary, but was informed late like me. He had been wandering the country with no address for quite some time. Things lightened up a little after we got out our tears about Mary.
"You never wrote." I chided.
"You sound like my mother. 'Samuel, you never write. You are not home often enough.'" He said mocking her slow Navajo accent. "I really should though, because I enjoy living in that hole and putting every effort into making rugs and jewelry and selling them for much less than they're worth."
"Aren't those traditional of your people?"
"Yes and they sell them for very cheap to tourists, it's disgusting. That's why I hated everything about my heritage as a teenager. One day I got so mad I chopped off all my hair. Pop got so mad and gave me a beating I never forgot." Sam's father died when he was nineteen from alcohol poisoning. That's when he left the Reservation for the first time. He really hated him. "Here," he tossed me a turquoise bracelet, "have one. You might actually see it for something."
"Thanks," I said, "and not just for this," I slipped it on, "thanks for taking care of me here and before.actually, half of what that kept me alive up there was what you taught me before."
"It's nothing. Besides, I'm a man of the land. I'm supposed to know this stuff."
"But you're a desert people, we're in the northern woods."
"No matter. Survival and wisdom applies to anything."
"Hey Sam."
"Yeah?"
"What were you doing here?" I told him everything of how and why I found myself up on the rock, but we never got to him.
"I was going from Eugene to San Francisco and I decided to stop by here and get my head straight. I'm comfortable out in nature. I needed to get a clear head."
"For what? What's in San Francisco?"
"My wife."
"Your wife??? You never told me you had a wife? Did you get married?"
"I was married before Columbus. Let me explain before you say anything. Her name is Enid; she's an Apache. I met her in Arizona when I was 20. We fell in love, got married after a month, and moved to Albuquerque. We were dirt poor and worked some pretty horrible jobs for three years and then one day she got up and left. She left a note and nothing else. Up and left me. It's a sore spot and I don't like talking about. Like Bookie's wife, like Manny and Maria's parents, like what we've got a pretty good idea is the Titanic.Mary leaked some stuff that she learned from George as you can figure." I nodded, smiling weakly. "Anyway, I never heard from her again until now. She wrote to my mother. Apparently, as a result of the last night we were together she had a baby. She didn't even have a hint about it until weeks after she ditched me. I stayed in Albuquerque for another three years then went to Santa Fe where I met this funny little Englishmen who asked me which Carolina he was in. I still don't whether he was kidding or not. Then we went south and found ourselves in Columbus in early 1912 and started working at old lady Marguerita's Saloon with these two Mexican kids that spoke barely any English. You know the story from there. A year ago Enid wrote to my mother. I finally had a semi-permanent address in Eugene, and Ma got to me then."
"Christ."
"So Enid's living in San Francisco with my nine year old kid that I never knew about."
"If anyone's fit to be a father it's you."
"Thanks, but the idea of meeting my nine year son by my estranged wife for the first time is ominous to put it mildly. He's never seen me before, and considering my beautiful relationship with my dad. I spent my entire childhood hiding and protecting my mother and sisters from. He probably hates me."
"You won't know that until you see him. What's his name?"
"Oliver."
"I never knew anyone I could have looked to like a brother.Bookie's more avuncular," I smiled, "Oliver could not have asked for a better father. You gave the best advice to me for two and half years now let give some to you. You are the wisest, most patient, and understanding man I know. You'll be fine, trust me." I sounded like the man I was talking to. I guess even the Sammy Torlinos of the world need some reassurance and comforting words now and then.
"Thanks, kid." he smiled.
I followed Sammy down to San Francisco and he paid my way down to Los Angeles even when I tried to refuse it. Luckily, with what I did there I would earn about a third of my financial losses back.
***
By March I was in L.A. at the door of Gigi's palatial Hollywood home remembering Sammy's advice on the big scenes in Hollywood-he knew I would be there if I was going to be with Gigi, 'No joining more wars, no smoking hookahs, or whoring around. You're a nurse: don't get a disease.' I said 'Thanks Dad'. He gave me an evil look.
"Rosie Dawson! Where have you crazy bitch?" If I just saw her on screen I would've have thought her the sweetest girl imaginable.
"In April I filmed my first feature thanks to Gigi's nepotism. I was another supporting part under her. It was fantastic. My first major film role and it was a joy to do, too. It was called "Her Love", a love story with Gigi at the center. I played the best friend. Next I was her sidekick again in "The Man in Between" this time I was the ditsy best friend to Gigi and her competition over Rudolph Valentino was Dorothy Gish. Needless to say, I was a little star struck.
By early late summer I was on fire. I was filming third feature and no Gigi to cling on this time. And with Lillian Gish and Mary Pickford! It was called "Three Women". It was the best thing I'd been in. Best cast, good story.
Gigi did make me promise one thing. She knew I was silently moping over Holden and that I didn't exactly have 'the fun I'm entitled to'. I promised I'd 'have a one night stand before I die'. I always thought I'd marry young and enter my wedding night a virgin. It seemed I was straying farther from that notion everyday. I never really intended to keep my promise, but about five other cast and crew went to a bar and got a few drinks one night. The other three left and Bob Holmes, the 35 year-old photographer, asked me upstairs. I didn't expect to agree, but I said yes. He was mildly attractive and I was tipsy. He took up to a room and seduced me. By morning he was out of there. It was less 'fun' as Gigi put it, then I had hoped. Thank God it was Saturday morning and an off day. I wouldn't have been able to stay awake. I was used the likes of Jack who was adorable and loving-and passionate, Manny who was as good as he looked, I thought he was lazy before we got together and I found out he just saved it for something else, Holden's intensity and fervor, even Cal, though we never got quite all the way, was generally skilled in the bedroom. The rest of the filming Bob would give me the occasional sly look and probably told everyone. It was a one-time thing in the sense that we would not sleep together again, but he didn't seem to just let it be forgotten. *Note to self: one night stands are not for you.*
After "Three Women" wrapped I went to my first premiere. I was got to wear the latest fashions for the first time in years. When I wasn't working I found Gigi or went down to Santa Monica. I went back to carousels and rides and also back to the pier where I sat and contemplated. I thought about being stranded in Klamath quite a bit. I was beginning to feel overwhelmingly sorry about cursing God and all my loved ones, but sleep deprivation, starvation, a hindering injury, isolation, being robbed and left destitute on top of other things puts a strain on one. Still, life was good. I looked great in my publicity portraits and when I came to party's I heard the occasional 'look it's Rosie Dawson' or something like that.
I had success in a career I liked and weekends in Santa Monica with Gigi. I also took a few flying lessons and worked on *actually* learning how to fly a plane. I swore one day I'd own my own. Soon I had my license, I was so happy. Now I was a real pilot. I flew as often as I could. Unfortunately, I passed on this lust for flying on to my son years later. He came of age at key time for adventurous pilots and I wasn't too happy with his decision.
But by early fall things started wear. Gigi invited me along with her on a trip to Hong Kong. China! This was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity. I agreed immediately. I had gotten over my general fear of sailing though I was still uncomfortable sometimes. The first few days I spent wanting to go to every market and explore every part of the city. Gigi gave me a little leeway, but mostly dragged me to clubs where people spoke English. I still enjoyed it though. The first week was fantastic. The second started on a sour note and went down hill from there.
I had to drag Gigi home drunk from club. She was having trouble with a man that seemed to be on her tail that she found rather unappealing. I had to push him away and get the manager in and drag her home-she could be like such a small child sometimes. She was so out of control by the time I got her back to her room I had to lock the door (she was too drunk to undo it). I filled up the bathtub with cold water and dragged her to the bathroom. I tried to throw her in, but she was a strong drunk. It took some struggling, but I finally got her in.
"I coulda handled it mythelf!" she shouted. "I didn't need to comma home ya know! You always ruin everythings, Rose. Let me ups! Lemme out!" I dunked back in.
"Stay down there and shut up!" I pointed.
After about ten minutes I let her out, dressed her in dry clothes, and put her to bed. I sat with talking to her and putting her hair up. She lay in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. She looked like a sweet little girl.
"You're a real pisser, you know that?"
"You didn't have to embarrass me like that."
"You want to act like a child I'll treat you like one."
"Gee thanks Mom, I really appreciate it. And I'm thinking giving up alcohol seeing as it'll be illegal back home in January. I'm gonna start obeying the law and I'm gonna smoke marijuana more often."
"Since when is marijuana illegal? I suppose it would be a better choice for you. High people are much more pleasant than drunks. I'd like to see on something and nice at the same time."
"Maybe not marijuana.what's the new one floating around?"
"Cocaine?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"I don't think that's the best idea, Gig. That one looks too dangerous." She looked at me with eyebrows cocked.
"I still think it's a bad idea."
"Yes, Mommy, whatever you say."
While in Los Angeles I decided to date like a normal human being. I went out to dinner with this one guy who turned out to be a terrible jerk and that didn't go anywhere. Then I met a nineteen year-old student named Dale Hall. He was a nice kid. Maybe a little young I thought at first, but I said yes when he asked me out to dinner. After I got back from Hong Kong I took a month off. Gigi was usually busy with filming or trying out cocaine or whatever it was she did. I went to Santa Monica when he didn't have classes. I never intended for us to come of anything, but one day we went down for a midnight walk on the beach and wound up making love. It was your typical perfect romantic night. The ocean, the moonlight, the cute student boyfriend.
By fall I started noticing the mindless drivel at parties, which seemed all too familiar. "Her Love" came out by then I was starting to become more noticed. By Christmas I decided it was time get out even though I actually landed a starring role. I was playing the title role in "Blythe", also the name of my two year-old second cousin that I would never know. I played the ornamental heroine of a love story. It was reminiscent of "Romeo and Juliet" only I was the only one to die at the end-killed by my controlling stepmother. My lover dies old and alone.
After that wrapped I left, but first I had to confront Gigi and Dale.
"If you keep on the tails of "Blythe" you could so big," Gigi said, "you've got the talent and the looks. You'll be America's beautiful heroine. I know it. It's just you."
"There's something I've had to do for a while and now I think I should leave. Maybe I'll come back, but I have to leave."
"Honey, I understand completely. If you've got something that you have to do you can't sit on your ass. But promise me this: that you'll always be my friend, I mean consider me as your friend. I don't have too many real ones. You're the first not to use for my fame and money and you helped with my drinking. Even if we never see each other again just promise you'll always think of me as a friend." I held her face in my hands.
"What else could I think of you as?" She smiled and embraced.
"Good luck, my Rosie D." I was hers in a way. As far as Hollywood went she made me.
***
Dale wasn't so easy. He wanted to marry me. He begged me to stay.
"Come on, Rose. It'll be wonderful. I can see it now. We'll into a nice house and I'll be in my dad's business when I graduate and you can still go on with your career. And kids! We'll have lots of kids. Can't you see it? I'll come home and you'll be with the children and making the place spick and span."
"I already clean up after myself and that's quite enough!" I pleaded. "I don't need other people to do it for."
"What did I do?"
"Nothing, I have to go and I can't take you with me."
"Who's in New York. People I have things to work out with, please." He grabbed my arm.
"Who is he?"
"There is no 'he' just me and my issues." *Holden James Hockley.*
After much more argument I left him in near tears. It sounded a bit like Manny's pleading, only Manny knew me better and was always my friend; I'd never see Dale again. I felt like such disgusting succubus. I had left another broken heart of a decent man in my path.
I left L.A. in February even though I was to do another film scheduled to shoot in the summer. I'd be ready to go back by then. Little did I know I was about set the course for the rest of my life-and this mission in Manhattan was going to be much harder than I thought. I'd get in over my head, be reunited with friends and enemies, go through such pain, joy, utter self-hatred, and absolute love and happiness. It was going to be a wild one.
But in order to understand a pivotal point in the next chapter of my life we must stop someplace else before Manhattan 1920 and venture into the lives of one very unique family: The Dawsons.
It was the last day alcohol would be legal in the United States and people were drinking more than ever. I seriously doubted that prohibition would ever work. Nothing would keep the thirsty masses from their drinks.
I looked around the smoke filled room trying to locate Gigi. Another big party with stars, drinks, and drugs. It was like my old world all over again only looser. I passed by Bob Holmes, a photographer on the last two pictures I'd been in. I'd been in four features since I'd arrived. The one I was wrapping up was my second non-Gigi. Bob gave me sensual look. He was drunk and he wasn't getting more from me. *If he thinks for a moment.if he comes near me.*
I had to leave. Not just the party, but L.A, too. Nursing was originally a plan B in case acting didn't pay off as I had hoped. But now it seemed the more appealing option. I loved acting itself. The particular crowd I had chosen in Los Angeles I was less enchanted with, save for my boyfriend and Gigi. I was going to tell Gigi I was leaving as soon as my next picture wrapped. I thought I was so lucky to find success so easily in less than a year, but at what a price.
The whole year had been one big distortion, one never-ending nightmare, one big false hope. I was going back to New York in two weeks and no one was going to stop me. I was finally ready to seek out Emily and Joe Dawson and tell them the truth. *Oh no.* I remembered. I had to confront and break things off with Dale, too. I promised myself that I'd be out of there in two weeks.
I looked all night and couldn't find either of them. I gave up. I still had two weeks to give them notice and I would be on my way. I needed to get home now. My cozy little apartment I had moved into over the summer. I was so proud of it when I first got there. Now I couldn't wait to get out. To explain everything I should probably start from the beginning.
***
The moment I got on the train on my first day back in the States I decided to move my 'trust fund' a.k.a the $200, 000 from Cal's coat from the coat within my suitcase to a handbag I used to stow away my regular money. *It's as good as my money anyway, might as well keep with the rest.* I knew, I'd get to Los Angeles, buy myself a nice house-enough to live comfortably, but nothing too big or lavish, put the rest in the bank, and see if I couldn't look up Gigi. This was a very, very big and foolish mistake on my part.
Somewhere between trains I decided to go for a hike, no reason to hurry my trip. I also thought a venture in the wonder of nature would get my mind off Holden-he was all I thought about.
I had been exploring the public forests and parks in and around Klamath, Oregon for about a week when I decided to moved southwards into California. I decided to go on a hike I got myself map and picked a trail. There weren't many people around as it was February. Under normal circumstances I would have been at little wary of being so alone, but I desperately wanted and needed that right now. I had to get away from the civilized world awhile. I took the Little North Fork Trailhead and set off early in the morning. I hadn't gotten up early in a month. It was hard getting out of bed, especially when I was the only there to haunt me and tell me to get ready. Eventually, I did make it out from my lodge room to the park.
It was cold, but I had on a warm winter coat and clothes. I brought all my belongings with me for I planned to stay at the campsites in Devils Canyon Meadow. The first few hours weren't too bad. After a while my bags got heavy and I got hungry. I stopped at a convenient looking spot just off the trail to eat my lunch. I thought of walking because it didn't look like I would make it there by evening. Then I remembered what the tired, hungry Rose was like and realized there would be no one to bitch and whine to, so I sat down and ate.
After I finished eating I climbed over to gigantic rock I had been eying while I was eating. It was slightly further off the trail-as in I saw it from a distance and it took ten minutes to get there. Once I reached it seemed worthwhile. The view was gorgeous. It was still at a low elevation, but the way the sun hit the trees, most of which were enormous cedars, it was absolutely beautiful. I could see much of the Marble Mountain Wilderness: cedars, lakes and streams. It was perfect and beautiful, like it was just the way God intended.
It was then my lack of sleep and physical exertion caught up with me and I decided to rest my head for a spell. The brief rest turned into a nap, which lasted for a little longer than I would have thought. I moved my head from my suitcase. I scrunched my toes in my big boots. They were going numb. I glanced at my watch.
"Oh shit!" It was three in the afternoon. I'd never make it before dark. I got up, looking around in what was now only a slight panic. I went to look over to the opposite side. Running across, I slipped and fell. I came down funny on my left ankle. I heard a distinct crack. *Oh shit.* I tried to get up and stand on it, but it was so painful. After several pathetic and agonizing attempts to stand on it I sat down. A moment later I regained my breath and hobbled around looking for any sign of human life. Nothing.
But then-people! Two of them. Men. Down on the trail. I could see them! I wasted no time.
"HEY!" I called as loud as I could. "HEY! PLEASE HELP!" Nothing. It was far, but they could surely hear me. Were they ignoring me? I couldn't fathom why. "PLEASE!!!!" I screamed. "Shit shit shit!!!" I cursed to myself.
After an eternity of screaming they disappeared. Desperate for anything I crawled over to my suitcases. I rummaged through the first one that I had used as a pillow then went to the next. One of the locks was undone. I could have just not snapped it tight. I opened it. The moneybag was missing. Now I knew why they were ignoring me. They thought I was reacting to being robbed. It wasn't just Cal's money. It was also the $900 I had saved over the years. I checked everywhere. I had three dollars. For the first time I was truly destitute. What a fool I had been in Chicago. I considered myself as good as penniless then when I had run out of "my" money. It wasn't a horrific disaster and the decision to abandon everything I had known before that really left me insolvent, but a quiet burglary. *Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, Oh God, oh God.*
"My coat money," "my pocket money," "my savings account," "my children's college fund," "the Hockley Steel charity donation," those were all the names I referred to Cal's money as. I rarely ever spoke them aloud, merely thought them in my head. I couldn't get it back now. I couldn't even climb down. I'd sat by the side, contemplating how to get down with all my stuff. But it proved impossible. I was stuck.
I put my head back on my suitcase and cried. After an hour or so it got dark and I stopped weeping. I thought I might sleep again, but it was getting cold. I had a particular hatred of extreme cold. It was February in the mountains of Northern California. This was beyond not good.
"I don't care. I don't fucking care." I declared and laid my head back on the suitcase. Then I felt a little drop of wet cold on my lower lip. I stuck out my tongue.waiting. Another one. I sat up, looking around and squinting. Yes, snowflakes. "Oh bloody." I cried. It was time to be resourceful.
I had had worse. The most scared I'd ever been was not Titanic, but Argonne. There was no Jack to be strong for me. There was just as much death, more actually. But there I had to be the strong one; Jack couldn't do it for me. I was fearing for my own life, but now I was the one in charge of the other person's. Tobey was too hurt to care for his own or anybody else's.yet still he thought of me and voiced it when he saw the knife. Yet, each time my number one concern was for the man next to me. And each time my worst fears were consummated. Now there was only me. And my worst fear was *my* death. I was beginning to think my number was finally up.
I pulled out my cigarette lighter. *Haha. Didn't get my lighter you sons of bitches.* Granted all they took was the money. I put stones together in a circle, collected twigs and began tearing up the empty sheets of paper from my notebook. I lit a sheet with one flick of the lighter and placed it in. It slowly grew to a roaring fire. I took my clothes from one suitcase and made a makeshift pillow and threw my A.E.F. cape over my middle as a blanket. *Didn't teach me this in finishing school.*
I slept only a few hours and got up again to tend to the fire. The snow had not amounted to more than a flurry. I was lucky this time. I got more wood and collected and saved any other useless paper I could find. I wished right then I could be in Columbus the way it was. My friends were there where I needed them, the weather would be mild, Mary was still alive, and save for the end, it was always safe and peaceful.
I closed my eyes and rested for another hour. I couldn't risk falling into a deep sleep again. I wondered how long I could keep the fire going. I certainly didn't want frostbite. By morning the temperatures wouldn't be as harsh, but it would still be cold and I hoped that the fire would attract the attention of someone friendly.
The next morning I checked out my ankle. It was most definitely broken. If I were one of my patients I would have forbidden me to walk on it, but I didn't have much of a choice. I did the most I could for it, made a splint and wrapped it tight with a blouse. I had two sandwiches and half a canteen of water-there wasn't enough snow where I was to melt to make enough water. For the first time I was so helpless and alone. My only choice was to hope someone came along. I was left to the mercy of anything. I felt like a useless leech. My sense and medical training told me there was no way I could safely climb down. I'd most likely kill myself if I tried. I shouldn't have gone up in the first place. I remembered making the two trips up so I could get both my suitcases up there. *I should have bought duffels instead.*
Today was my birthday, too. I was twenty-four. I wouldn't have imagined it before, but today was bleaker then my seventeenth. My cousin Victoria's birthday was a few weeks ago. On her eighth birthday she declared herself '8 on the 8th' and we concluded I would be '24 on the 24th' and here I was. I lit myself a cigarette. *Happy Birthday Me.* As I learned from Holden she was married to Adam Christianson with a little girl named Blythe.
As the day went on I started talking to myself, after all, throwing rocks off the edge and seeing how far they would go would only entertain for so long and I kept up the routines of the fire and planned to have a half a sandwich at the end of the day. Not that I had anything against turkey sandwiches, but what I really wanted was smoked gouda cheese. Don't ask why. After my dinner of half a turkey sandwich I sang myself "Happy Birthday"-I worked on hitting the notes perfectly. Extreme boredom was overtaking me.
By the next morning I started raving monologues to wilderness. Here's a few of them:
"This is my rock now. It is my home. This my God damn rock. I hereby declare this 'Rose's God Damn Rock.' They can take my money, they can take my honor, but they can never take my rock! I'm Rose bloody Dawson and I'm free!!" After I ripped off Winston Churchill with that last line I decided to do some Shakespeare. I stood at the edge with a big stick for balance. I let my hair gloriously blow in the wind.
"This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day"
I sat down. The English army was not as roused as I had hoped. It was probably the greatest speech I'd ever known and I thought I did a very decent job of it. I looked a little more like Elizabeth I than Henry V, but I still thought it was good. I couldn't wait to go back to acting. I always loved the idea since I was a little girl, but I never got it right. Even when I practiced alone in my room where no one could hear me I still couldn't speak the words loud enough or with enough feeling or conviction. Somehow I knew it was in me somewhere. It wasn't until Jack came along that I could do it. He naturally brought it out of me. I wasn't afraid anymore-and even if I was I had the courage anyway.
I clutched my chest guiltily at the thought of him. I still loved him, I would all my life. But my love had changed and evolved. Even when I was with Manny I was still in love with Jack. But now truly loved someone else. For seven years there was no one but Jack. Now that had died. I owed too much to him to love Holden in his place! But I did. Sometimes I still wanted Jack, but it wasn't the same. Had he appeared in front of me at that very moment I would have leapt into his arms and never looked back, but that was never going to happen. But he was always 'the one', he was my soul mate, but I was passionately in love with someone else? It would only end if I forgot all about Jack Dawson, but that I could never do-nor did I ever want to. I was beginning to see his death for the harsh reality it was. But the man I wanted to love was Holden. Just to hear him call me Bukater again. I wanted see him, talk to him, hold him, kiss him, make love to him. All of these I seemed to have done well when I was with him, but I couldn't make him stay.
I woke up the next morning with half a sandwich left, no water, and Holden on my mind. I had been there for three days. It was only a few days, but I was starving and freezing. I'd be dead in a few more and I was at the mercy of anything willing to help. I was starting to go crazy-literally.
"Damn you, Holden! DAMN YOU!!" He knew about me. After all I'd done he'd never betray me. It was our secret alone: Rose and Holden's special, glorious, and delectable secret. He knew everything except for Jack and Cal's actions, but I let him have a pretty good idea of it. I only gave Mrs. Brown a brief history. (By the way, I sent her the idol and she saw it to a proper museum.) He knew much more than she. We came from the same world and had the same views of it-views few other people would tolerate. "WHY?!" He loved me, he almost said it. He was too much of a coward to stay. I wondered if he was suffering as I was. A hard-earned trust and an unlikely friendship led to our rare bond and he gave it up so his life would be comfortable again. Damn our families. They got the better of him.
Maybe he didn't love me. Was he just using me? Things were starting to heat up a little just before he left 42. There was something between before either of us wanted to admit it to ourselves. But he was reeling after that first kiss and the way he made love to me. The moment I said it he had me against the wall and he couldn't get in soon enough. Obviously, he had wanted me, too, but I was the one who outright said it. Was he just giving the lady what she wanted? He was a good person at heart, but maybe he was a little more like his half-brother than I wanted to believe. P This might be where my romantic love for Jack started to truly die. "Look at you, Rose. Seven years hard work destroyed! You have nothing! Poor, sweet Jack Dawson. What a fool ever to believe in me. He was a little boy who fell for a beautiful girl and thought he saw something. It happens all the time. I'm beautiful, educated, and worldly and I'm a failure!!! I'm a GOD DAMN FAILURE!!!! I'M A FUCK-UP! I'M A NOBODY!" I screamed. I collapsed, straining my ankle. "I'm a Titanic survivor that's going to freeze to death! Can anybody hear me?! HELLOOOO????!!!!" God it was useless. I started mumbling to myself. "I've lost it. I've lost it. I should have married Manuel. I should have found my mother. I should have stayed in Baltimore and made my way to Johns Hopkins in ten years. I should have a nice little map of life like everyone. I'd be miserable and bored. BUT IT CAN'T BE AS BAD AS THIS!!"
Alice would have said this was a time for pray and hope. "You want a pray, Alice Grant?! Here's one." I looked up at the night sky, yelling at God and everyone else who was with Him and not. "Why me?! What did I do?! I'll throw myself off this cliff and nobody's going to stop me this time! You can't send me to hell, I'm already there, baby! Thank you, Jack. Thank you for leading the way into this new wonderful life! Thank you, Holden for falling in love with me and ditching me. Thank you, Papa for ruining our family business and lives and let's not forget my loving mother!" I wanted Mary so badly. Had she heard my cries and been on Earth with me she would be the first by heaven to reach me. "And Cal! You knew how much trouble they were in! You took advantage of them and you didn't think twice. And you took from me everything! EVERYTHING!!!" Jack's death was still a sore spot it seemed. "Stop testing me you Biblical figment! I'M NOT WORTH IT!!! I'M NOT WORTH IT!! STOP TESTING ME!! I WON'T FIGHT ANYMORE!!! STOP TESTING ME!!" I broke down crying. I couldn't scream anymore; I was too weak. I didn't listen to them, but the words 'no matter how hopeless' were still in my heart. I was still awake, but I could feel myself weakening. I crawled over to the slowly dying fire. I didn't have the will to fix it again.
I had survived so much. Now this. I was a war veteran with no home to be welcomed back to. I really wasn't considered a veteran, but that's what I was in truth. I wouldn't be officially recognized as one for another six decades. If someone had come up to me then and told me on that cold, hard rock that I would live another six decades I would have killed them dead.
Then I thought I heard a voice. The lifeboats were coming for me, but this time I just didn't care. I wished I had died there and be spared all this pain. As it got closer it sounded more and more familiar. I figured it was an illusion and I was just plunging further into derangement. I ignored it.
"HELLO?!" it called. "Anybody up there?!" I could here someone climbing up the rock. I waited there for a few minutes until I could hear boots scraping on the ground.
I went for my first instincts, which strangely enough, were to live. I grabbed the stick I'd been using for balance and tried to defend myself against who ever this man was. I saw him and he hesitated recognizing me. He was in shock at the sight of me. Not just that it was me, but also the sight I had become. "GET AWAY!!!" I screeched. Swinging the stick. I was too weak. I couldn't he wave him off. I was too frightened and mentally and physically strained to recognize him.
For the first seventeen years of my life I always hoped for just one strange coincidence that would be worth a story. There was nothing close to it until Titanic. Now my life was full of them. Most of which I would see were slowly weaving themselves together during the years I wished for them. This was perhaps the luckiest, but certainly not the last.
But for now I thought someone was attacking me and I tried to fight. He was on top of me now.
"Rose!" he cried and fought against my flailing arms. "Rose! Rose, stop it! It's me!! Look at me!!" He held my face and made me look. He was unsure what had happened to me and wasn't sure if I would know anything.
I saw him then. I grew up without anything close to a big brother, but here was the man who I would always consider as mine for my whole life. He came to my rescue now. I reached for him and sobbed in his arms.
"If you took better care of yourself I could sleep better at night." said Sammy.
"I broke my ankle. I couldn't get down and it was s-so cold and-"
"Hey, I'm here now. I can get you down and take you back. Do you understand?" I nodded. "Tell me everything later. Right now you need a doctor, kid."
"I'm only half a step down from one." He knew I was at Maryland, but the last letter I got from him was about a year ago.
"You graduated?" My cape was now under my heavy coat. I pulled out the collar of it to show him the red letters reading "A.E.F." He shook his head. "And then some." He walked around cleaning up and re-packing my things. He stopped after a few minutes. "Is this everything?" he asked. I looked around nodding.
"Happy Birthday slightly belated." I said. His birthday was the same day as mine. He was exactly nine years older than me.
"Happy Birthday slightly belated to you, too." His pack wasn't very full so he stuffed one of my suitcases in it. He remembered our time with the Villistas how I carried my one suitcase. He strapped two belts across me and secured it. He would climb down a few feet then help me where I was perched. He even carried me in some spots. It was an awkward and hard position: I held on to him from the front while he tried to move and grip with his hands, which would have been much easier without my suitcase. There were a few moments there where I was sure we would fall and regretted asking him if I could take my stuff, but we made it down in one piece.
By the time we were back on the trail it was dark. I moved my suitcase to my hand and leaned on Sammy for support. We were only about an hour from the campsite at Devils Canyon Meadow, but with my foot slowing us down it would take much longer. We made it there at eight o'clock and Sam brought me to a main cabin where I was attended to.
I stayed there for a few days with Sammy. Until I was deemed well enough to hike back with his help. We talked for hours catching up. He talked about the Sanchez's wedding and the funny stories that that entailed. He knew about Mary, but was informed late like me. He had been wandering the country with no address for quite some time. Things lightened up a little after we got out our tears about Mary.
"You never wrote." I chided.
"You sound like my mother. 'Samuel, you never write. You are not home often enough.'" He said mocking her slow Navajo accent. "I really should though, because I enjoy living in that hole and putting every effort into making rugs and jewelry and selling them for much less than they're worth."
"Aren't those traditional of your people?"
"Yes and they sell them for very cheap to tourists, it's disgusting. That's why I hated everything about my heritage as a teenager. One day I got so mad I chopped off all my hair. Pop got so mad and gave me a beating I never forgot." Sam's father died when he was nineteen from alcohol poisoning. That's when he left the Reservation for the first time. He really hated him. "Here," he tossed me a turquoise bracelet, "have one. You might actually see it for something."
"Thanks," I said, "and not just for this," I slipped it on, "thanks for taking care of me here and before.actually, half of what that kept me alive up there was what you taught me before."
"It's nothing. Besides, I'm a man of the land. I'm supposed to know this stuff."
"But you're a desert people, we're in the northern woods."
"No matter. Survival and wisdom applies to anything."
"Hey Sam."
"Yeah?"
"What were you doing here?" I told him everything of how and why I found myself up on the rock, but we never got to him.
"I was going from Eugene to San Francisco and I decided to stop by here and get my head straight. I'm comfortable out in nature. I needed to get a clear head."
"For what? What's in San Francisco?"
"My wife."
"Your wife??? You never told me you had a wife? Did you get married?"
"I was married before Columbus. Let me explain before you say anything. Her name is Enid; she's an Apache. I met her in Arizona when I was 20. We fell in love, got married after a month, and moved to Albuquerque. We were dirt poor and worked some pretty horrible jobs for three years and then one day she got up and left. She left a note and nothing else. Up and left me. It's a sore spot and I don't like talking about. Like Bookie's wife, like Manny and Maria's parents, like what we've got a pretty good idea is the Titanic.Mary leaked some stuff that she learned from George as you can figure." I nodded, smiling weakly. "Anyway, I never heard from her again until now. She wrote to my mother. Apparently, as a result of the last night we were together she had a baby. She didn't even have a hint about it until weeks after she ditched me. I stayed in Albuquerque for another three years then went to Santa Fe where I met this funny little Englishmen who asked me which Carolina he was in. I still don't whether he was kidding or not. Then we went south and found ourselves in Columbus in early 1912 and started working at old lady Marguerita's Saloon with these two Mexican kids that spoke barely any English. You know the story from there. A year ago Enid wrote to my mother. I finally had a semi-permanent address in Eugene, and Ma got to me then."
"Christ."
"So Enid's living in San Francisco with my nine year old kid that I never knew about."
"If anyone's fit to be a father it's you."
"Thanks, but the idea of meeting my nine year son by my estranged wife for the first time is ominous to put it mildly. He's never seen me before, and considering my beautiful relationship with my dad. I spent my entire childhood hiding and protecting my mother and sisters from. He probably hates me."
"You won't know that until you see him. What's his name?"
"Oliver."
"I never knew anyone I could have looked to like a brother.Bookie's more avuncular," I smiled, "Oliver could not have asked for a better father. You gave the best advice to me for two and half years now let give some to you. You are the wisest, most patient, and understanding man I know. You'll be fine, trust me." I sounded like the man I was talking to. I guess even the Sammy Torlinos of the world need some reassurance and comforting words now and then.
"Thanks, kid." he smiled.
I followed Sammy down to San Francisco and he paid my way down to Los Angeles even when I tried to refuse it. Luckily, with what I did there I would earn about a third of my financial losses back.
***
By March I was in L.A. at the door of Gigi's palatial Hollywood home remembering Sammy's advice on the big scenes in Hollywood-he knew I would be there if I was going to be with Gigi, 'No joining more wars, no smoking hookahs, or whoring around. You're a nurse: don't get a disease.' I said 'Thanks Dad'. He gave me an evil look.
"Rosie Dawson! Where have you crazy bitch?" If I just saw her on screen I would've have thought her the sweetest girl imaginable.
"In April I filmed my first feature thanks to Gigi's nepotism. I was another supporting part under her. It was fantastic. My first major film role and it was a joy to do, too. It was called "Her Love", a love story with Gigi at the center. I played the best friend. Next I was her sidekick again in "The Man in Between" this time I was the ditsy best friend to Gigi and her competition over Rudolph Valentino was Dorothy Gish. Needless to say, I was a little star struck.
By early late summer I was on fire. I was filming third feature and no Gigi to cling on this time. And with Lillian Gish and Mary Pickford! It was called "Three Women". It was the best thing I'd been in. Best cast, good story.
Gigi did make me promise one thing. She knew I was silently moping over Holden and that I didn't exactly have 'the fun I'm entitled to'. I promised I'd 'have a one night stand before I die'. I always thought I'd marry young and enter my wedding night a virgin. It seemed I was straying farther from that notion everyday. I never really intended to keep my promise, but about five other cast and crew went to a bar and got a few drinks one night. The other three left and Bob Holmes, the 35 year-old photographer, asked me upstairs. I didn't expect to agree, but I said yes. He was mildly attractive and I was tipsy. He took up to a room and seduced me. By morning he was out of there. It was less 'fun' as Gigi put it, then I had hoped. Thank God it was Saturday morning and an off day. I wouldn't have been able to stay awake. I was used the likes of Jack who was adorable and loving-and passionate, Manny who was as good as he looked, I thought he was lazy before we got together and I found out he just saved it for something else, Holden's intensity and fervor, even Cal, though we never got quite all the way, was generally skilled in the bedroom. The rest of the filming Bob would give me the occasional sly look and probably told everyone. It was a one-time thing in the sense that we would not sleep together again, but he didn't seem to just let it be forgotten. *Note to self: one night stands are not for you.*
After "Three Women" wrapped I went to my first premiere. I was got to wear the latest fashions for the first time in years. When I wasn't working I found Gigi or went down to Santa Monica. I went back to carousels and rides and also back to the pier where I sat and contemplated. I thought about being stranded in Klamath quite a bit. I was beginning to feel overwhelmingly sorry about cursing God and all my loved ones, but sleep deprivation, starvation, a hindering injury, isolation, being robbed and left destitute on top of other things puts a strain on one. Still, life was good. I looked great in my publicity portraits and when I came to party's I heard the occasional 'look it's Rosie Dawson' or something like that.
I had success in a career I liked and weekends in Santa Monica with Gigi. I also took a few flying lessons and worked on *actually* learning how to fly a plane. I swore one day I'd own my own. Soon I had my license, I was so happy. Now I was a real pilot. I flew as often as I could. Unfortunately, I passed on this lust for flying on to my son years later. He came of age at key time for adventurous pilots and I wasn't too happy with his decision.
But by early fall things started wear. Gigi invited me along with her on a trip to Hong Kong. China! This was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity. I agreed immediately. I had gotten over my general fear of sailing though I was still uncomfortable sometimes. The first few days I spent wanting to go to every market and explore every part of the city. Gigi gave me a little leeway, but mostly dragged me to clubs where people spoke English. I still enjoyed it though. The first week was fantastic. The second started on a sour note and went down hill from there.
I had to drag Gigi home drunk from club. She was having trouble with a man that seemed to be on her tail that she found rather unappealing. I had to push him away and get the manager in and drag her home-she could be like such a small child sometimes. She was so out of control by the time I got her back to her room I had to lock the door (she was too drunk to undo it). I filled up the bathtub with cold water and dragged her to the bathroom. I tried to throw her in, but she was a strong drunk. It took some struggling, but I finally got her in.
"I coulda handled it mythelf!" she shouted. "I didn't need to comma home ya know! You always ruin everythings, Rose. Let me ups! Lemme out!" I dunked back in.
"Stay down there and shut up!" I pointed.
After about ten minutes I let her out, dressed her in dry clothes, and put her to bed. I sat with talking to her and putting her hair up. She lay in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. She looked like a sweet little girl.
"You're a real pisser, you know that?"
"You didn't have to embarrass me like that."
"You want to act like a child I'll treat you like one."
"Gee thanks Mom, I really appreciate it. And I'm thinking giving up alcohol seeing as it'll be illegal back home in January. I'm gonna start obeying the law and I'm gonna smoke marijuana more often."
"Since when is marijuana illegal? I suppose it would be a better choice for you. High people are much more pleasant than drunks. I'd like to see on something and nice at the same time."
"Maybe not marijuana.what's the new one floating around?"
"Cocaine?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"I don't think that's the best idea, Gig. That one looks too dangerous." She looked at me with eyebrows cocked.
"I still think it's a bad idea."
"Yes, Mommy, whatever you say."
While in Los Angeles I decided to date like a normal human being. I went out to dinner with this one guy who turned out to be a terrible jerk and that didn't go anywhere. Then I met a nineteen year-old student named Dale Hall. He was a nice kid. Maybe a little young I thought at first, but I said yes when he asked me out to dinner. After I got back from Hong Kong I took a month off. Gigi was usually busy with filming or trying out cocaine or whatever it was she did. I went to Santa Monica when he didn't have classes. I never intended for us to come of anything, but one day we went down for a midnight walk on the beach and wound up making love. It was your typical perfect romantic night. The ocean, the moonlight, the cute student boyfriend.
By fall I started noticing the mindless drivel at parties, which seemed all too familiar. "Her Love" came out by then I was starting to become more noticed. By Christmas I decided it was time get out even though I actually landed a starring role. I was playing the title role in "Blythe", also the name of my two year-old second cousin that I would never know. I played the ornamental heroine of a love story. It was reminiscent of "Romeo and Juliet" only I was the only one to die at the end-killed by my controlling stepmother. My lover dies old and alone.
After that wrapped I left, but first I had to confront Gigi and Dale.
"If you keep on the tails of "Blythe" you could so big," Gigi said, "you've got the talent and the looks. You'll be America's beautiful heroine. I know it. It's just you."
"There's something I've had to do for a while and now I think I should leave. Maybe I'll come back, but I have to leave."
"Honey, I understand completely. If you've got something that you have to do you can't sit on your ass. But promise me this: that you'll always be my friend, I mean consider me as your friend. I don't have too many real ones. You're the first not to use for my fame and money and you helped with my drinking. Even if we never see each other again just promise you'll always think of me as a friend." I held her face in my hands.
"What else could I think of you as?" She smiled and embraced.
"Good luck, my Rosie D." I was hers in a way. As far as Hollywood went she made me.
***
Dale wasn't so easy. He wanted to marry me. He begged me to stay.
"Come on, Rose. It'll be wonderful. I can see it now. We'll into a nice house and I'll be in my dad's business when I graduate and you can still go on with your career. And kids! We'll have lots of kids. Can't you see it? I'll come home and you'll be with the children and making the place spick and span."
"I already clean up after myself and that's quite enough!" I pleaded. "I don't need other people to do it for."
"What did I do?"
"Nothing, I have to go and I can't take you with me."
"Who's in New York. People I have things to work out with, please." He grabbed my arm.
"Who is he?"
"There is no 'he' just me and my issues." *Holden James Hockley.*
After much more argument I left him in near tears. It sounded a bit like Manny's pleading, only Manny knew me better and was always my friend; I'd never see Dale again. I felt like such disgusting succubus. I had left another broken heart of a decent man in my path.
I left L.A. in February even though I was to do another film scheduled to shoot in the summer. I'd be ready to go back by then. Little did I know I was about set the course for the rest of my life-and this mission in Manhattan was going to be much harder than I thought. I'd get in over my head, be reunited with friends and enemies, go through such pain, joy, utter self-hatred, and absolute love and happiness. It was going to be a wild one.
But in order to understand a pivotal point in the next chapter of my life we must stop someplace else before Manhattan 1920 and venture into the lives of one very unique family: The Dawsons.