Terrorists. That one single word made Rose Dawson want to throw something, but burst into tears at the same time. It filled her with pride, knowing that she had helped fight them. That hateful word robbed her family of a husband and a father, and the one last phone call and the horror of the crashing buildings were engraved in her soul.
To help hold the pain, she had two beautiful children to remind her of her best friend, her lover, her soul mate. He first daughter, Olivia, had known her father as a small child, for she had been five when he sacrificed his life. Her son, Jack, was named for the father he had never known. Rose had found out she was pregnant with him the day before it happened, and was planning to tell her husband when he came back from his art convention in New Jersey. She never got a chance to.
She had tried to shove the horrors to the back of her mind. She tried to lessen the pain. A few years passed, and she had started to overcome the it. No. She would never forget the memories they shared, but the wounds were not so fresh.
One day, almost nine years after the national tragedy, her wounds were open by three words. Three words that her son asked innocently, the few words she had been dreading, hoping they would never be asked.
The small family was sitting on the couch watching America's Funniest Home Videos. They seemed happy enough, but something was missing—a big hole in their hearts. However, they all were laughing, seeming to be fine. One clip flashed by of a boy and his father playing Frisbee by a pool, the father falling backwards into a girly inner tube while trying to catch a wayward throw. The words just seemed to slip out from the small boy's mouth.
"Mommy, where's Daddy?"
Rose looked sadly at her son. A single tear slid down her face as she thought of what could have been. Olivia started to say something to her brother to change the subject, knowing her mother had never wanted to talk about it before, but Rose intervened.
"No. You both have the right to know who your father was." Rose picked up the remote and turned off the TV. "I guess I should start from the beginning, from when we were in kindergarten."
She began to dig up her past that had been shoved away.
*****
She was just a small town girl, living in a lonely world
He was dead; gone forever. After a hard battle with cancer, his soul had been ripped away from the world without a single care. And now, he left behind three things. A wife, a daughter, and a mountain of debts.
The funeral passed by like a blur. The young girl seemed disturbed by the scene, but she did not fully understand the severity of the situation. His wife tried to hold herself together for the sake of her daughter. The debts took their toll on the previously wealthy family; their lifestyle was ripped away like a hat in the wind.
They arrived with a single suitcase each, mesmerized by the town that was ten times smaller than the skyscraper-speckled Philadelphia that had been their home since before the girl's birth. Chippewa Falls was isolated from the other tiny towns in a way that was both fascinating and frightening. From the crystal clear lake to the daisy-filled meadows, the town was nothing to be ashamed of, despite the few streets that needed a repaving. It just was not the city life that the family was used to. A soft August sun beat down on their faces in a welcoming way. The breeze was cool, indicating that summer was ending. The small girl grasped her mother's hand for comfort.
You could say that a small piece of tumbleweed blew in front of them, as cliché as it sounds, but this was the late twentieth century. The town was in no way western, and it was not deserted.
The pair walked through the center of town, down the roads that could have used a fixing ten years ago. The houses were small, but had large yards with collections of colorful flowers.
They observed their surroundings, the small Wisconsin town that looked the direct opposite of the bustling Philadelphia they were used to. Tall trees filled the streets, their leaves shedding in preparation for their winter hibernation. The small girl, Rose, looked longingly at a pair of boys jumping through a pile of leaves. They seemed lost in their own world, oblivious to the scornful onlookers who had long since shunned the idea of childish playfulness.
Rose dropped her suitcase and started to run in the direction of the two small children. She had never had a real friend before, and with the beginning of kindergarten only a week away, she wanted a friend, or at least a familiar face. The wind blew through her auburn curls and she slowed down to close her eyes and breathe in the fresh air. Her cheeks were rosy. That was one thing she would not miss from her hometown; the busy streets and the lack of freedom floating in the air.
She started off again, only to feel a cold hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and met the glare of her mother. Even though Rose was only five, and probably didn't know better, her mother still castigated her actions. "Where were you running off to? You know we have to get to our house right away. What would the neighbors think if they saw you being so rambunctious?"
"I was gonna play in the leaves!" Rose pointed excitedly at the two boys, who were currently throwing the red and orange leaves at each other. Rose's mother narrowed her eyes as the blond boy tackled his friend, sending them both to the ground in fits of laughter.
"Do you expect me to let my daughter play with hooligans like that? That's absurd; you will never even think of doing such a thing. You could hurt your clothes, not to mention that young ladies should not be so childish. They were hand-tailored!" Her mother was always so formal. Surely other little girls did not have to undergo such behavior control at a young age like her.
Rose sighed dejectedly. She didn't understand what could be so dangerous, but she knew not to argue. Nor did she understand why it was so important that she should be a proper young lady. She had a love of life, and wanted to spend it wild and free. If she was older and more capable, however, she would have taken off for the horizon. Her mother was known to not hold back on punishments. "Yes, Mother."
They continued on the path they had been taking before. This time, the mother, Ruth, held her daughter's hand firmly, forbidding her from running away again. Rose wondered why her mother was always so controlling, never letting her do what she wanted. She wanted to explore the world, or at least the town. No child wants to be forced to be what they are not.
Ruth Bukater didn't always have a blackened heart, as hard as it might be to believe. At one time she was as carefree as her daughter. This had changed as her life went on, as the blows of life took their toll.
When she first married Michael, she had believed it to be perfect, as they were undoubtedly in love. They were quite young, only twenty-one and twenty-three, and neither of their parents approved. They had eloped, run away together to live the life they dreamed of. This took them right to the City of Brotherly Love, Philadelphia. Michael quickly landed a job as a businessman, and life was good.
Years passed, and it seemed like Michael was choosing his career over his family. He came home late every night, and sometimes had a bottle of brandy to accompany him. Their marriage started to fall apart, and it would have ended in divorce if Rose was not born a few months later. They stayed together for the sake of their small daughter, but it was evident that there was tension. More than once, Ruth found a woman walking out the front door in the morning. She spent her nights crying, for she still loved him even after he hurt her.
And then, the illness began. It was mild at first, and Michael refused to go to the trouble of going to a doctor for a silly cough and chest pains. Over the months, it got worse. He found blood in some of the horrid coughs. Finally, when the pain was getting to be so great it was hurting at work, he went to see a doctor and was diagnosed with lung cancer. The smoking he had done in his young years was coming back to haunt him. They had caught it at a late stage. He was treated with chemotherapy, but it was just too late. He died that April, only suffering for one more month.
Ruth was distraught. At the reading of her husband's will, she ignored most of the sympathy she was receiving. This was when she found that she was surrounded by a mountain of debts. The Bukaters had previously been wealthy, and Ruth was able to almost pay them off with the money from Michael's bank account. But with the newfound bankruptcy, she was forced to sell the large Philadelphia mansion and take off to a smaller town with the small sum of the rest of the money in her pockets.
Ruth was still deeply hurt by her husband's last actions, and the severity of their financial issues were just setting in. She didn't even comprehend how she was hurting her daughter by diminishing the spark of creativity and spirit. She just didn't want her daughter to make the same bad decision she had made by doing the stupid, illogical thing.
Rose and Ruth arrived at the small, immaculate house. It was an appealing house by some people's standards. The yard was well kept, there were colorful flowers, and it was not in any form of disrepair.
Taking a deep breath, Ruth surveyed the scene. She had never lived in a house so small, and she knew that she would have to find a job. She had never worked a day in her life, and was worried about what kind of toll this would take on her. Rose was content enough. She ran towards one of the flower beds and picked a white rose for her hair. Ruth thought about scolding her, but it just didn't seem worth it.
*****
The last week of August passed by like a breeze over a teal-green sea. Ruth managed to get a job as a seamstress at the local tailor shop. The work conditions weren't ideal, but at least there was a small flow of money. She had to work long hours, and her boss did not look like the forgiving kind for tardiness. Ruth was forced to use the little sum of money left to hire a babysitter to look after Rose.
*****
It was a fine Monday morning. Rose was off the walls with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Ruth had already headed off for work that day, and Marie, the new babysitter, had to walk Rose to her first day of kindergarten. Ruth didn't really trust Marie, but with money so tight and the possibility of losing her new job, she really didn't have a choice.
Rose trailed slowly behind Marie. Marie was tall with raven black hair, had a haughty air to her, and the small five-year-old was slightly wary. She had the look that she was too exemplary for this job. They arrived at the local elementary school. Other anxious children were huddled behind their mothers, hesitant to enter into the new environment of school.
Marie grabbed Rose's hand and guided her towards the kindergarten classroom. Rose stopped walking suddenly at the front of the classroom, scared of the rambunctious assortment of kids.
"I have somewhere to be," Marie said flatly. "I'm sure you will be fine." She gave Rose a little push into the classroom and turned around to leave. A teacher walked up to Rose, giving her a warm smile. She bent down to the same height as Rose.
"Good morning!" she said with a smile. "My name is Ms. Honeycutt. What's your name?"
Rose quickly warmed up to the young teacher. Her mouth spread into a big smile, something that had not happened for a long time. "I'm Rose!"
"Well, welcome to kindergarten, Rose. I'm sure you will be a wonderful student and I will enjoy having you in my class. Why don't you sit over there?" She pointed to a table with two boys and a girl.
"Okie dokey!" Rose hurried over and plopped down in the empty seat, next to a blond girl who was small even for her age.
The girl looked curiously at Rose. "Who are you?" she asked, pointing at her.
Rose was slightly taken aback by the girl's boldness. She kept up her cheerful demeanor. "My name is Rose."
The girl perked up. "That's a pretty name! I'm Maddie. Are you new here?"
"Mmm-hmm! Me and my mom moved here after Daddy was taken by the angels. I miss him."
"My mommy went there, too! I never got to meet her, but my daddy said that she was really beautiful. I wish I could see her sometime, but Daddy said that wasn't possible," Maddie said, her expression growing glum. Rose noticed the two boys watching them with interest.
A shrill bell rang, and the last conversations in the class quieted down. Ms. Honeycutt addressed the class. "Good morning! If any of you have not met me yet, I am your kindergarten teacher, Ms. Honeycutt. First, I am going to give you all a piece of paper, and I want you to draw whatever you want. Don't worry about how good it is. I just thought I would start off with something everyone would enjoy." Rose and Maddie gave each other looks of excitement. Any kindergartner would be thrilled to be able to draw rather than go about the task of learning the alphabet.
Ms. Honeycutt came to each table and set down a bucket of crayons, giving each student a piece of paper. Rose studied each of the boys. She recognized one as the blond boy she had seen playing in the leaves the week before. The other boy had jet-black hair and a sharp look in his eyes. He eyed the crayon bucket and grabbed it on impulse. He took out all the colors except the white, gray, and brown crayons and set them between himself and the other boy. He set the almost empty bucket back in the middle of the table.
"Hey! Can't you share the crayons? You can't draw nothing with the white crayon!" Maddie was agitated, even for a five-year-old.
The boy gave the two girls a sly smile. He looked at the other boy. "Did you hear that, Jack? I thought I heard a little mouse squeak." Maddie's face flushed. She was quite small, and was obviously aware that her voice was high pitched.
The other boy, Jack, picked up a handful of crayons. "I think we should share." He looked at the first boy, Caledon, defiantly. "We got more than enough." He glanced at Rose as he set the pile from his hand on the girls' side of the table.
Rose looked at Jack gratefully. He looked up from his drawing and caught her gaze, his blue eyes piercing almost straight into her soul. "Thanks," she told him.
He smiled. "No problem." He returned to the picture he was drawing of a small girl running through a meadow. Even though he was only in kindergarten and was using a crayon, his drawing skills and talent were evident.
Cal huffed, muttering something incoherent. He returned to his crude stick figure drawing. He seemed to think he was better than everyone else.
As Rose worked on her blue dog picture, she couldn't help but notice the boy sitting across from her. He had been so nice. Sure, sharing crayons wasn't the best thing that had ever happened, but it meant a lot to a kindergartner. His picture really was exquisite, and Rose could just imagine herself as the girl in the picture, running through the meadows with the boy along as well. He had added another character since the crayon argument, a boy who looked quite similar to himself. The drawing really came to life, from the expressions on the faces to the sweet daisies in the meadow. She almost felt embarrassed at her picture; it was chicken scratch compared to Jack's.
As he finished the drawing, he wrote his initials and the date at the bottom. J.D. Sept. 1, 1980.
The rest of her day passed relatively quickly. Rose and Maddie chatted idly throughout class, eventually finding out that the two girls had a lot in common. Rose was sure that they would be best friends in no time, a phenomena she was not used to. Maybe the move was even better than she had imagined before.
The one thing that bothered her was Cal. He had the rest of the class wrapped around his finger. Every now and then, he would make a mean comment about Maddie's appearance, or the obvious lack of money in the Bukater household. He made sure to be quiet enough that the teacher wouldn't notice, but be loud enough that some of the class heard and snickered along with him. Rose wondered if something in his house might be troubling him, and he decided to take it out on other people. She wouldn't press the issue.
The school day ended right before lunch. Rose and Maddie walked out of the room together, only to be met by Marie. "About time you got here, Rose. You know I have places to be, and none of them include picking you up from school."
Rose started to reply with a plead of apology, but Maddie interrupted her. "I'm sorry we're late, Ms..."
"Cox."
"Ms. Cox. Rose was gonna come over to my house to go swimming."
Rose broke into another game-winning smile. "I'd love that!" The two girls clasped hands and ran off in the other direction, leaving Marie to wonder what to do. She shook her head at their pagan spirits. She could never imagine, nor was she ever allowed, to have a childhood like that. It was disgraceful.
As they were walking off hand in hand, they noticed Jack ambling on by himself, his head hung low. The two friends ran up to him.
He looked up; it was obvious that he had been crying. His eyes were red and puffy and a rebellious tear was slowly sliding down his cheek. Rose spoke quickly and quietly. "What happened, Jack?"
"I thought they were my friends..." He brought a hand up to his face and wiped away the stray tear. "What's it to you?"
Maddie gave him a hug. He was shocked and unresponsive at first, but he slowly wrapped his arms around her, too, giving into the friendly gesture. "Whoever did this to you, they were never your friend in the first place. Rose and I were going to my house to swim. Do you want to come?"
Jack gave a timid smile. "Yeah. That sounds great. Listen, the person who did this to me was Cal. After school, in front of his entire group of friends, he called me names, 'specially for the fact that I shared my crayons with you. He said I was a disgrace and that I was lucky he considered me his friend even for a short time." He sniffled. "Now he won’t even talk to me unless he calls me more mean names."
"It's okay, Jack. You can be our friend. Right, Maddie?"
Maddie nodded her head. "Right."
Jack awkwardly laughed, the tears finally disappearing from his face. He pulled Rose inside of the hug, too. After a few minutes, the trio broke apart and headed towards Maddie's house. In time, this unlikely trio would become the greatest of friends, having the bond they shared tested by numerous incidents throughout the years.
*****
Years passed as the three children flew through the ups and downs of elementary school together. They were always close, helping each other through many problems. Sometimes when Rose's mom got into a fit of rage, she slipped out of her house at night, down the trellis, and went to sleep over at Maddie's, for they lived on the same street. Jack lived a few blocks away, but that did not stop him from joining the girls for a sleepover.
Being the new kid is always hard, even for the best of them. After fourth grade, a new family arrived. As the summer ended, bringing on the musty autumn smell and crunchy piles of leaves to play in, school started. Their ten-year-old son was put into Jack, Rose, and Maddie's class. It wasn’t like he was abnormal or anything, but he did have ADHD. It was a mild case, at that, and yet he was still ridiculed.
Cal stayed his same, arrogant self. He tried to make conversation with Rose a few times, but he always left if Maddie or any of her other friends joined in. She didn't particularly like his attention, but it wasn’t like Rose could just ignore Cal.
Right off the bat, on the first day of school, Cal and his group of followers decided this new kid was not cool enough. One of his friends, Ryan, said that Matt Thornton was a disgrace to have even been born. They proceeded to pull a few pranks and have him get in trouble for writing hateful messages on the blackboard that never even existed.
Matt's parents never heard a word about any of this. The problem wasn't that they were unsupportive—it was just that Matt was too afraid to speak up.
The trio decided that maybe a foursome would be better and invited Matt over to come with them to the movies. Matt had a great time, and the four became close. They were inseparable.