A JOURNEY OF ONE
Prologue
I
am a maid of constant sorrows
I’ve seen trouble all my days
I’m going back to California
Place where I was partly raised.
Sunday, May 11, 2003
Masline, California
Rose stood slowly from where she had been
sitting on the cracked, buckled curb, wiping her eyes. The warm spring sunlight
shone down on her, soothing her grief and strengthening her resolve.
Looking around, she took stock of her
situation. She was going to leave Masline, going to start her own life outside
of the expectations of those who knew her—but how? All she had were the clothes
on her back and the few items in her purse, none of which would really help her
in her journey.
She wouldn’t go home, though, not even to get
the things she needed. After the events of the night of the earthquake, now a
week past, she knew another side of her mother, one that had shocked and
disturbed her. She had known that Ruth was ambitious—she had tried to raise
Rose in that mold, even going so far as to arrange a marriage with a man she
considered to be suitable—but Rose had never imagined that her mother would
take advantage of the horrifying cataclysm to increase her own wealth and
status.
Such things were not new, of course—people
had been taking unfair advantage of disasters since time immemorial—but Rose
had never wanted to think that her own mother would be one of them. Cal’s
reaction to the earthquake had not surprised her—she had long since seen him
for what he was, though it had only been that day that she had decided to break
away from him—but Ruth’s agreement with Cal’s plan to use the disaster to their
advantage had made her uneasy. Who knew what else Ruth was capable of, if she
would take advantage of other people’s fear and shock and misery to benefit
herself?
No, Rose couldn’t go home, but neither could
she set out with what she had. And there was no one she could go to for help.
Her friends, as dearly as she loved them, would never understand her need to
set out on her own, leaving everything she had known behind. Already grieving
over the loss of three of their own—Fabrizio, Trudy, and Jack—they might well
see her leaving as a betrayal, or conspire to keep her there. She might see
them again one day, but for now she had to go out on her own.
There was no one else she could turn to. Only
Cal knew for sure that she was even alive, and she had sworn him to silence, in
exchange for her silence about his responsibility for Jack Dawson’s death.
Jack. Rose felt tears well up again as she
thought of him—the man who she had loved, who had stood at her side through the
trials of the past year, who had helped her to see what was inside herself—a
strong, courageous woman who could withstand adversity, who could go on and
continue with her life when hope was gone.
Rose blinked back the tears, straightening
her back and looking around. It was because of Jack that she had survived the
earthquake, and had sent Cal away, and had at last made the decision to go on
and start a new life. She had made a promise to him that night, promising to
survive and go on with life, no matter what. Jack had pleaded with her to make
that promise, knowing that she could survive, if only she could find the strength
to carry on. It had been too late for him—he had died a short time later,
though Rose hadn’t discovered his death until morning—but not for her. She had
her whole life ahead of her, time in which to live and love and make the most
of every moment.
And it was in order to keep that promise that
she was leaving everything she had known behind. Her eyes falling on the rubble
of what had once been a store, Rose walked toward it, her conscience warring
with her need to survive. It would be stealing to take the items still intact
in the rubble—but most of the valuable items had already been taken by looters,
and what was left was unlikely to be salable. Most of it would undoubtedly find
its way to a landfill. Was it really so wrong to take a few items destined for
the trash? Few people would object if she dug through a garbage can itself and
took things from it, so long as she didn’t use what she found to harm others,
and the more damaged goods that were removed, the less cleaning up there would
be later.
Squelching the voice that told her that what
she was doing was wrong, Rose gingerly walked amongst the rubble, carefully so
as not to injure her ankle again. Picking amongst the ruins, she found a
dirt-encrusted school backpack and began to fill it with items, taking only
what she thought could never be sold.
In spite of the looting, there were a lot of
things that hadn’t been taken—still usable, but damaged enough that they would
be consigned to the trash. The rubble had once been a Big Lots, a store that
sold cheap, second-rate items, or items that had not sold well at higher
prices, or items that were being discontinued. Very little of the merchandise
was the luxury items favored by looters, and the small amounts that were didn’t
interest her. Rose was interested in surviving, not in collecting stolen goods
that she had no use for, and so, picking slowly and carefully through the
rubble, Rose collected those things she would need.
*****
It was early afternoon by the time Rose was
ready to go. Hefting her heavy load on her back, she secured her purse against
her side with a belt around her waist, keeping it from swinging and getting in
the way. A few additional items had been stuffed into the purse and into the
pockets of a pair of purloined jeans. Her old outfit, the dress and shoes, was
carefully hidden at the bottom of her pack. The dress was damaged, but she
wasn’t ready to give it up, in spite of the faint blood and soot stains still
remaining in it even after washing.
Looking around, Rose turned and started
slowly toward the hills surrounding the Masline Valley, low hills that slowly
grew higher to the east, eventually becoming the foothills of a small mountain
range. Beyond that, the larger mountains rose before her, and beyond them, the
desert.
It would be a long journey, but she was ready
for it. This was the beginning. She didn’t know when or where it would end, or
if it ever would, but that was a part of what she had learned about life. There
was no predicting what would happen, no matter how hard a person tried. In
spite of mankind’s assertion that it had conquered the world, conquered nature,
there were some things that could never be conquered—and the unpredictability
of life was one of those things. No one had expected the earthquake, or the
damage wrought by it, just as she had never expected the twists and turns that
life had given her.
It was time to go, to see whatever the world
had to offer, and to make each day count. No one could ever be sure of what the
next day would bring, least of all her. Whatever happened in her life, she
intended to make the most of it.
As she reached the top of the hill, she
turned and looked back for a moment, remembering. From this distance, the town
looked almost as it had before. It was almost as though it had never happened.
But it had, and it had marked the end of her old life and the beginning of her
new.
Turning away, Rose continued walking east,
her eyes looking ahead to the future. She was on her own now; her old life had
ended and a new one had risen from the ashes of tragedy. She had been tested
and strengthened by it, and she knew now that she could make it. She would
never give up, and she would never go back.