JOHN AND ROSE
Chapter Three
Mary stood at her bedroom door, her heart
pounding with anticipation. This was it—the moment when she would take that
first step toward realizing her dreams. She knew that Nadia thought she was being
foolish, but what did her calm, staid sister know? Nadia was so shy—she would
never make it as an actress, even if she wanted to be one.
Mary turned off the light and peeked out the
door, making sure no one was around. Nadia would run to their father with the
news of what Mary was up to if she knew, and if her father caught her—well,
Mary didn’t even want to think of what the consequences would be then. She
would probably be grounded until Christmas—if not longer.
The lights were out in both her father and
sister’s rooms, and also in her father’s study. Carrying her suitcase in one
hand, she tip-toed down the hall, glad for the thick carpet that muffled her
footsteps. She slowly made her way down the stairs, glad that her father had
had the house built so well. None of the stairs squeaked when she walked on
them, and the thick carpet from the upstairs hall also covered the stairs,
muffling her footsteps even more.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs,
Mary removed her shoes. Holding them in one hand, she tip-toed across the
hardwood floor, looking back every so often to be sure she hadn’t been caught.
When she reached the front door, she put her shoes back on and quietly unlocked
and opened it.
She felt a surprising wave of sadness as she
looked out the door. This had been her home for four years, and now she was
leaving it. She might come back to visit, but not to live.
Mary squelched the sudden feeling of sadness.
She was going to be a great actress—maybe even greater than Aunt Rose. She would
buy her own mansion in Los Angeles, like the ones she had seen when she and
Nadia and their grandmother had visited Aunt Rose in 1917, while their father
was away fighting in the Great War. Anyway, she wouldn’t be alone. Aunt Rose
would surely take her in until she could pay her own way...in spite of what
Nadia thought. Her aunt would understand how much this meant to her. Aunt Rose
knew all about following dreams.
A thought occurred to Mary as she quietly
closed the door behind her. Maybe she could invite Nadia to live with her after
she finished high school. There must be universities in California—in fact,
Aunt Rose had written to them and told them about a new university in Los
Angeles—UCLA. Nadia could go there.
She would still miss her father, of
course...but maybe he could buy a vacation house in California. The Calverts
were the wealthiest family in Cedar Rapids, so she was sure he could afford it.
Or maybe she could buy him a house when she had enough money. Movie stars made
a lot of money—Aunt Rose was almost as rich as them, though she didn’t seem to
find that very important.
Mary shrugged to herself as she started
across the yard. She would miss her family, but what she was heading for was
well worth it. Her mind full of visions of the future, she opened the gate.
Allegro wagged his tail slowly, walking
stiffly up to her. The elderly animal had severe arthritis, but the sight of
the children he had spent his life with always made him want to act like a
puppy, even though it was no longer possible. She patted his head, sad at the
thought that this would probably be the last time she saw the dog, and stepped
through the gate, closing it behind her.
Mary hurried down the road, realizing how
close to midnight it was. She had to hurry if she was going to take the 12:30
train to California with Mr. Ross.
She glanced back once as she turned the
corner onto the paved road. A light shone in Nadia’s window. She stared for a
moment, certain that she could see her sister leaning out and looking around.
She hurried around the corner, not wanting Nadia to see her.
Her dreams were too important to let her
sister stop her.
*****
Nadia stood at her window, looking down at
the street below. She couldn’t believe what she saw.
Mary was hurrying down the road, a suitcase
in her hand. Nadia would never have known what was going on, but the gate had
banged behind Mary, waking her up. That, and Allegro’s mournful yelping, had
sent her leaping out of bed, flipping on the light switch and leaning out her
open window to see what was going on.
At first, she had hoped that the person
hurrying down the road was just a drifter, scared off by Allegro. But a second
glance had told her that wasn’t the case. No drifter had such a nice dress, or
those ridiculous high-heeled shoes that Mary insisted on wearing everywhere.
Nadia leaned farther out the window, almost
slipping, when she saw Mary turn and look in her direction. She tried to wave
to her, to let her know she had been seen, but Mary simply turned and hurried
off, down the street and around the corner.
Where was she going? Nadia wondered. This
wasn’t just a midnight stroll—not that Mary usually took midnight strolls. The
one time she’d tried to sneak out to meet a boy her father disapproved of,
she’d tried to climb down the trellis under her bedroom window—and had slipped
and broken her wrist. That was the end of sneaking out. Their father hadn’t
bothered to ground her—the broken wrist was more than enough punishment, in his
opinion. It seemed that Mary had learned her lesson—until tonight.
Suddenly wanting to be sure of what she had
seen—it was dark, after all—Nadia slipped from her room and tried Mary’s door.
It was unlocked.
She slipped inside, looking around. There
appeared to be someone sleeping in Mary’s bed, but when she flopped down, as
she often did to awaken her lazy sister, it proved to be nothing more than
pillows and blankets arranged under the covers.
Quickly, Nadia got up, flipping on the light
and looking into Mary’s closet. There was no doubt about it—it was Mary she had
seen on the road. Her suitcase was missing, along with some of her clothes. She
looked closer, realizing that Mary’s best formal dress was missing.
Where had her sister gone? Nadia wondered,
closing the closet door. She wouldn’t have run off with that phony director
they had met—would she? A quick glance at Mary’s shelf confirmed that several
books of plays were missing—Mary’s prized possessions. But what convinced her
was the note on Mary’s vanity.
Dad, Nadia,
I know that you think I should finish high
school before starting an acting career, but I’ve met someone who can open all
those doors for me. He is a real director, Nadia, in spite of what you might
think. Dad, don’t worry about me. I’ll stay with Aunt Rose until I can pay my
own way. Please don’t spoil this for me. You know how much this means to me.
With Love,
Mary
Nadia swore under her breath—something she
rarely did. Cursing definitely wasn’t ladylike, though Mary often did it to
defy convention. Never in front of their father, though, who had been known to
shove a bar of soap into the mouth of a foul-mouthed child.
Mary was heading for California with a fake
director she had met at the fair. Her sister’s stupidity defied Nadia’s
understanding. Of course, Mary often acted first and thought later—a trait that
had gotten her into trouble more than once.
Maybe there was still time. If they could
catch up to her before she reached the train station, or before the train
pulled away, they might be able to stop her. God only knew what the
"director" had in mind. It wasn’t anything good, Nadia was sure. Real
directors didn’t look for actresses in small Midwestern towns, or encourage
them to run away from home. Besides, if he’d been a real director, they would
have heard of him. Mary loved movie magazines, memorizing their contents as
though they held the secrets to the universe. Richard Ross had never been
mentioned in any of them.
Looking at the clock on Mary’s wall, Nadia stuffed
the note into a pocket of her nightgown and ran from the room, not caring how
much noise she made as she slammed the door behind her. She had no idea how
much time she had, but probably not much. The last train usually left around
12:30, headed west.
That in mind, Nadia ran down the hall to
John’s room, banging on the door when she discovered it was locked. Of course
it was locked, she thought irrelevantly. John had been locking his bedroom door
for privacy since the girls were old enough not to need help in the night.
John sat up in bed, mumbling under his breath
as Nadia banged on his door. He could hear her yelling.
"Dad! Wake up! Mary’s in trouble!"
"Dammit." John climbed out of bed,
tossing on a robe before opening the door. Nadia was standing there, looking
frantic.
"Dad, Mary ran away!"
"What?" John rubbed his eyes,
trying to wake up.
"Mary ran away! We met this phony
director at the fair, and she thinks he’s real, and she’s run off with him.
Look." She pulled the note from her pocket and shoved it into his hand.
John read the note quickly, his eyes
widening. Of all the hare-brained schemes his elder daughter had ever come up
with, this had to be the worst. What was she thinking, running off with someone
she’d met at the fair?
"Shit." He rubbed his eyes, trying
to think of what to do.
"We have to go find her! Maybe she’s
still nearby! I saw her out the window..."
"What were you doing at the window—especially
dressed like that?"
Nadia looked down, realizing that she was
only wearing her thin nightgown. "I heard the gate banging, and Allegro
barking, so I looked out to see what was going on. Mary was running down the
road, her suitcase in her hand. I looked in her room to be sure it was really
her, and she was gone."
John used a few more choice expletives,
describing his daughter’s impulsiveness and the man she had run off with.
"Do you know the man’s name?"
"He said his name was Richard Ross...but
it could have been an alibi. He gave Mary a business card."
"Oh, my God." John handed the note
back to Nadia. "Those weren’t Hollywood business cards—they were printed
here. Some of them were accidentally delivered to me this morning."
"Well, let’s go find her!"
"Go get dressed," John directed
her. "We’ll take the car."