A CALIFORNIA ROSE
Chapter Twenty-Eight

Wednesday, May 7, 2003

Rose sat on the edge of her cot in the earthquake shelter, her sprained ankle propped up on a box. She balanced a cooling cup of coffee in one hand, a newspaper in the other.

It had been three days since the earthquake, three days since Jack’s death. Rose stared at the newspaper, only half-reading it. Three days had passed, and she didn’t feel anything.

She shifted her injured foot, moving it to a more comfortable position. The slight, constant ache in her ankle was the only thing that reminded her that she could still feel.

She hadn’t cried since the moment that she had realized that Jack was gone, but she also hadn’t smiled, or laughed, or felt anything at all except the slight physical pain of her injured ankle. It was as though a wet blanket had been thrown over her emotions, smothering them.

It was probably normal, she realized. She had been through so much emotional turmoil in the past two and a half weeks that her mind needed to take a break, in order to preserve her sanity. She was almost grateful for the emotional numbness that prevented her from feeling any grief or sorrow.

It wouldn’t last. Eventually, she would have to face what had happened. But for now, she was content to not feel anything at all.

Others felt the impact of the earthquake. Rose had watched, feeling strangely detached, as other people mourned the loss of loved ones, or rejoiced in the news that a family member had survived.

Nearly everyone had lost someone. The death toll in Masline was high; out of a population of forty thousand, nearly two thousand people had died. More bodies were being found every day, and some people who had survived the initial crisis were dying from their injuries. Others would never be found.

Every day, survivors visited the various shelters scattered throughout Masline and neighboring cities, searching for missing relatives and friends. The rescue workers had finally composed a list of those who were known to have died, allowing their searching relatives to know right away whether there was any use in further looking.

Rose had looked at the list, which was posted near the front of the tent that served as a shelter. She, like so many others, hoped that they wouldn’t find anyone they knew on the list.

Rose had found the names of two friends on the list the day before--Fabrizio and Trudy. Her heart had caught in her throat, almost breaking through the layers of numbness. Trudy had been her best friend since fourth grade, and Fabrizio, while she had not known him nearly so well, had also been a friend. She wondered how Helga was doing. She had survived, Rose knew, because she had seen her at the makeshift hospital Rose had been taken to after she was rescued. Helga had been lying on a cot, a bandage wrapped around her head. She had been sleeping, so Rose hadn’t disturbed her.

This morning, when a revised copy of the list had been posted, Rose had found Jack’s name on it. They had finally found his body. Rose had inquired discreetly about him, and had learned that there was some question as to the cause of death--he didn’t appear to be an earthquake victim.

Rose settled back against her pillow, trying to concentrate upon the newspaper she had borrowed. She didn’t want to think about Jack--not yet. Flipping idly through the newspaper, she looked at the articles on the earthquake.

It was one of the biggest earthquakes in recorded history, finally being measured at 9.18. Some people referred to it as ‘The Big One’ that Southern California had been anticipating for so long. Others argued over this term, since the much-anticipated ‘Big One’ had been expected to hit along the San Andreas fault line--not a previously unknown earthquake fault intersecting the San Andreas and disappearing into the desert to the east.

The earthquake had caused massive damage. Buildings had been flattened in a fifty-mile radius of the epicenter. Most of Masline had been destroyed, as well as a large part of Southland. Enormous destruction and loss of life had been reported from cities in the surrounding area as well. Dams had crumbled, including one of the state’s newest, and largest, reservoirs--Diamond Valley Lake, about fifty miles north of Masline, inundating parts of two towns. A dam in Mari’s hometown of Perris had also broken, covering the northernmost part of the town in water. A tidal wave had wiped out parts of several coastal towns. Worse yet, a nuclear power plant near the coast had been destroyed, triggering an explosion that had killed hundreds of people and sent radiation over much of California, Mexico, and the Pacific Ocean. Only the mountains to the east had prevented the radiation from spreading farther.

Damage had been reported from areas far away from the epicenter. Reports of destruction had come from as far away as Seattle, Houston, Mexico City, and Honolulu. The earthquake had been felt as far away as Florida, Chile, the Philippines, and Alaska.

Rose sat up, putting the newspaper down on the ground beside her. The shelter that she was in was located on the grounds of what had once been the Sunpeak building. The open fields beside the building had provided a place to set up a shelter, while the Sunpeak building itself--with its substandard construction and lack of adequate maintenance--had collapsed, burying three hundred night shift workers. Titan Construction had been responsible for that building, too.

Rose sipped at the now cold coffee, then set it aside in disgust. Fabrizio had been one of those working that night. Only six people had been found alive in the debris, and after three days it was doubtful that they would find any more. Rescue efforts had not even begun until well into the following day, as Sunpeak’s managers had claimed that there had been few, if any, people working there at 11:00 that night. Only the reports of part-time workers who had left minutes earlier had convinced the authorities otherwise.

Looking toward the front of the tent, she saw several people looking at the list of the dead. Some were crying; others looked relieved at not finding someone. One of them stepped away from the crowd and began walking amongst the people in the shelter, looking for someone.

In the fading light of late afternoon, it took Rose a moment to recognize Cal. He walked between the rows of cots, looking at each face.

Rose felt a stab of alarm. Even after everything that had happened, he still sought her out. She considered leaving while he was occupied, but knew that he would find her eventually. It was better to confront him now.

Cal was walking down the second row of cots when he caught a glimpse of red hair from the fourth row. Hurrying over, he found Rose sitting on a cot, waiting for him.

“Rose!” he exclaimed. “You survived.”

“Yes, I lived. How awkward for you.”

“Rose...your mother and I have been looking for you...” He looked around, wondering if Jack was with her.

Rose answered his unspoken question. “He’s dead.”

Cal looked startled. “Rose...I’m sorry...”

“You should have thought of that before you shot him in the back.”

He just looked at her, stunned.

“I guess you thought you missed. You didn’t. You’re a murderer, Cal.”

“I never meant--”

“No. You never mean to do anything. But you still do it.”

“Rose--”

She didn’t listen. “There’s going to be an autopsy--they know he didn’t die from earthquake injuries. They’ll be able to trace the bullet back to the gun, and back to you.”

“I doubt that.”

Rose looked at him and shook her head. He never changed. “What did you do, Cal? Buy that gun on the black market?”

He started to speak again, but Rose put her hand up, stopping him.

“Please don’t. Don’t talk. Just listen. We will make a deal, since that is something you understand.From this moment you do not exist for me, nor I for you. You shall not see me again. And you will not attempt to find me. In return I will keep my silence. Your actions that night--or any other time--need never come to light, and you will get to keep the honor you have so carefully purchased.” She glared at him, wishing that she could turn him in, wishing that she could see justice done, but knowing that this was the only way she could ever really be free of him. “Is this in any way unclear?”

Cal stood for several minutes, considering. Finally he nodded, understanding. “Rose, what do I tell your mother?”

Rose hesitated. She didn’t want to see her mother now, but she might wish to see her again in the future. “Tell her you never found me.”

“All right, Rose.” He started to turn away, then looked back at her once more. She was looking down, her hands clenched around the blanket on her cot. He spoke to her, knowing even as he did that it was pointless.

“I do love you, Rose.” She barely looked at him. “Rose, please. I want to make amends. I will do whatever it takes--even turn myself in.”

Rose shook her head. “No, Cal. It’s too late for that--much too late.”

He started to walk away once more, then stopped. He had to know. "Rose, did you ever, in all the time we were together, feel anything for me?”

She hesitated, remembering. “I liked you once. When we were first engaged, I thought that perhaps I might learn to love you. But you never gave me a chance. You were convinced that if you bought me the right things, if you controlled me enough, I would learn to love and respect you. But those aren’t things that you can buy, that you can force a person to feel. Those things have to be earned. From the moment you first slapped me, I knew that I would never feel those things for you, but I stayed because I felt I had no choice. Then I met Jack, and I learned what love and respect--and loyalty and trust--really meant. Had you given me those things, instead of trying to buy them or beat them into me, I might have eventually learned to love you. But you never understood, or even tried to understand.” She slumped, suddenly very tired. “Please leave, Cal.”

He looked at her, stricken with emotion. “Rose, you are very precious to me.”

She looked at him, and realized that he did care for her, in his own way. But it wasn’t enough. It never would be. “Jewels are precious. Good-bye, Mr. Hockley.” She turned away. When she looked back, he was walking away.

It was the last time she ever saw him.

Rose sat quietly for a long time, thinking. Could she exchange one life for another? As a caterpillar turned into a butterfly, could she become someone new? Was it any more unimaginable than the destruction wrought by the earthquake?

Chapter Twenty-Nine
Stories