JOHN AND ROSE
Chapter Forty

June 22, 1931
Cedar Rapids, Iowa

The following morning, Nadia slipped out early, knowing that Sam would be at work already. She let herself into the main office of Dawson Films using the extra key Rose had given her, and hurried down the still-shaded halls, looking for Sam.

She finally found him in the janitor’s closet, filling a bucket with soap and water in preparation to clean another part of the building. Poking her head in the door, she asked, "Are you going to do it? Are you going to ask for an acting job?"

He jumped, startled, almost spilling the contents of the bucket on the floor. Turning around, he fixed her with an irritated glare.

Nadia gave him a sheepish look. "Sorry. Now you know why I don’t take cleaning jobs—me and buckets never did get along."

"Buckets and I."

"What?"

"Buckets and I. The last place I worked, the lady was always correcting her children’s grammar."

Nadia blushed, though she didn’t quite understand why. "Some teacher I’ll be."

"You’re going to be a teacher?"

"That’s what I intend, if I can find a job. You know how things are these days."

"Yeah, I know." He looked at her, wishing that she would move out of the way so that he could get to work.

Nadia saw his look and finally stepped aside, then followed him down the hall. He looked back at her warily.

She stood back as he got to work, understanding his wariness in her presence. She wasn’t nearly as sheltered as she had once been, and she knew how many people would regard any sort of relationship or private contact between a black man and a white woman, no matter how innocent. She knew about lynchings that had taken place over such issues—typically without a trial and with little or no concrete evidence of any crime taking place—if the individual was even accused of any specific crime. Sometimes, just being black was enough, especially where fanatics were concerned.

It seemed to Nadia grossly unfair that such things went on, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Her own position was too precarious for her to speak out much, and even in more tolerant places than Mississippi, such ideas could still get her into trouble. Rose had no qualms about speaking out, but she was well-to-do and famous in her own right, and such things could go a long way toward covering for socially unacceptable behavior.

Still, it didn’t stop her from talking to him. No one was likely to complain about that, since they were the only ones there and the first person likely to show up would be Rose, who wouldn’t jump to conclusions. Even if someone else did show up, she could always pretend to be ordering him around—after all, she was the stepdaughter of the woman who owned and ran Dawson Films.

"Well, are you going to do it?"

"Do what?" He looked up from where he was sweeping the floor.

Nadia sighed in exasperation. "Ask Mrs. Calvert for an acting job. She’d probably give you one, and you could make more money that way. And if you were just an extra, and still wanted to clean, you might even be able to do both."

"Why aren’t you an actress?"

"I don’t like being in the spotlight."

"How do you know I would?"

"I don’t. But you still might like it anyway. Have you ever tried it?"

"No."

"Well, then, how do you know you wouldn’t like it?"

"I never said I wouldn’t."

"But you said…" Nadia glared at him. "You are so annoying!"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Thanks."

At that moment, they heard Rose’s voice echoing through the halls. "Sam? Nadia? Where are you?"

Sam quickly turned away from Nadia, suddenly very interested in a speck of dirt on the floor. Nadia yelled down the hall.

"We’re in here, Mom!"

Rose came down the hall, stopping when she saw Nadia. "I knew you were here. Your father was wondering where you’d gotten to. I thought you might have come here, and your muddy footprints in the freshly scrubbed entry hall confirmed it." She gave her stepdaughter a look. "Haven’t you learned yet to wipe your feet?"

Nadia looked down at her plain brown shoes, only now realizing that they were indeed mud-encrusted. "Uh…sorry, Mom. Sorry, Sam. I guess you’ll have to clean it again."

"Not a chance, Nadia," Rose interjected. "Sam, please give her the bucket and mop. She can wipe up her own footprints."

Nadia grimaced, but knew better than to argue with Rose. Her stepmother had always believed in taking responsibility for one’s own actions.

Sighing, she took the bucket and mop. As she was about to leave, she turned suddenly, spilling some water on the floor. "Are you going to ask her?" She gestured to Rose.

"Ask me what?" Rose was confused.

"About an acting job."

"You want an acting job?" Rose looked at Sam. "Why didn’t you say so?"

Sam just shrugged, but Nadia spoke up. "He didn’t think you’d hire him. He thought you only hired white people as actors."

"Why, that’s ridiculous! Anyone who’s seen my pictures knows that I’ll hire anyone with talent." She stopped. "Have you never seen any of my films, Sam?"

"I’ve never seen a moving picture."

"You’re missing out, then. Tell me, have you ever tried acting on the stage?"

"No."

"Do you want an audition?"

He shrugged, not sure whether he wanted to try it or not.

"He could be an extra in your new picture," Nadia suggested.

Rose shook her head. "I have all the extras I need. What I need is an actor for a bit part. I haven’t found the right person yet, even for such a small role." She turned back to Sam. "Would you be interested in reading for it?"

Sam shook his head. "I can’t read."

"Oh. Well…" Rose thought for a moment, unwilling to let the idea go now that she had it. "Can you dance? The part requires some dancing."

"The girls back home thought so." Sam was beginning to be intrigued by the idea of becoming an actor, although he still doubted that anything would come of it.

"Show me."

"Here?"

"Yes. Right now."

Feeling foolish, he leaned the broom against the wall and demonstrated a few steps. He doubted that it was the kind of dancing she was used to, consisting as it did of bits of popular dances combined with more traditional ones—his sister had loved dancing, and would try any kind, using him for a partner if she couldn’t find anyone else. Since she hadn’t always known what the latest dances were, she had improvised, enjoying every minute of it.

But Rose just nodded, recognizing that he did indeed have talent. Then, she gestured to Nadia.

"Let’s see how you dance with another person. Nadia, you be his partner."

Nadia blushed, embarrassed. "Mom…why can’t you dance with him?"

"Because I’m watching. Now, go ahead."

"I…uh…I need to go clean the hall."

"That can wait. Your footprints aren’t going anywhere."

"Mom…"

"Go, Nadia. There’s no one else to audition him with right now."

Nervously, Nadia approached him. Dancing wasn’t her favorite activity, especially if someone was watching. Still, she wasn’t usually so embarrassed. What was wrong with her? She felt like a young girl at her first dance—but without any friends for reassurance.

Following Rose’s instructions, they danced—first a rapid dance without touching, then a fast, hand-holding dance, and finally a slow dance, close together.

Nadia was surprised at how much she enjoyed dancing with Sam, even if was just for his audition—and the slow dance was the best of all.

"Ahem. Sam, Nadia…that’s enough. The audition’s over." They didn’t respond, but just kept slowly dancing around the room.

"Sam! Nadia!" Trying to hold back her laughter, Rose approached them and tapped Nadia on the shoulder. "May I cut in?"

"What?" Then Nadia realized that she had been dancing slowly around the room with Sam for far longer than was necessary. "Oh! I…uh…I’d better go clean that hallway." Face red, she rushed from the room, splattering water as she went.

Rose couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. Leaning against the wall, she laughed until Sam looked at her as though she’d lost her mind.

"Mrs. Calvert?"

Rose finally stopped laughing. "I think she likes you," she told him.

"I like her, too…I think." He stopped, reaching for the broom again. "Sorry. Didn’t mean nothing by it."

"By the ‘I like her’ or by the ‘I think’?" Rose laughed softly. "Don’t worry, Sam. I’m not going to raise a fuss. Nadia’s finally found someone that she can’t just ignore or disdain." She paused. "Now, about that audition…"

"Yeah?"

"You dance very well, but I don’t know how well you act. I know you can’t read, but perhaps you could improvise a scene for me."

"I could what?"

"Improvise a scene. That is, make something up. Pretend that you’re talking to someone, or to yourself, and just…do something. Just something that lets me know what you can do."

"But I can’t read the part…"

"There’s only a few lines. You seem intelligent. I’m sure you could learn them by ear."

"Okay…"

"So…make something up."

He thought about it for a moment, not sure that he really wanted to do this, then picked up the broom and turned it upside down, holding it at arm’s length.

He spoke in an angry voice. "Get moving, you nigger! What am I paying you five cents an hour for? That cotton patch ain’t hoed. Can’t you do any better than that? I’m losing money by having to watch you all the time."

His voice turned subservient, with a slight hint of sarcasm, as he slumped slightly. "Sorry, sir. Some of them weeds are real deep—I can’t get them out without ruining the cotton."

He switched back to the first character. "Don’t give me no excuses, nigger…you ain’t worth five cents an hour!"

He stopped, turning to Rose. "How was that?"

Rose’s eyes were wide. "That was wonderful! Two characters at once. Not many people do that."

"Oh."

"I think you’d be right for the part. It’s yours…if you want it."

"Can I still keep this job?"

"If you want, but that part I offered you pays much more."

"But when it’s done…"

"I’ll tell you what. You can take the film role for now, and you can have the janitorial job back when it’s over, if you don’t take another role or find another job. You’ll be paid a small salary while filming—enough to keep you reasonably comfortable. Then, when the picture is being shown and the profits come in, if there are any—and sometimes there aren’t—I give each principal actor and actress one percent of the profits. In a successful film, that can be quite a lot of money, and it gives people an incentive to do their best. Will you take the part?"

He hesitated a moment, still not sure, then replied, "Sure. I’ll do it."

"Great. And don’t worry about fitting in. Four black people have contracts with Dawson Films—one man, two women, and a twelve-year-old boy with a talent for comedy. It would have been five, but I lost one person to Hollywood. None of them are in this picture, but you may meet George—that’s the twelve-year-old—around here, because he’s working on another picture that my assistant, Polly, is directing."

"When do I start?"

"Come to my office at nine o’clock—can you read time?"

"No."

"All right." Rose pointed to the clock, reading off the numbers. "When the small hand is on the nine and the large hand on the twelve, come to my office. I’ll go over your film contract with you, and you can sign it. Just make your mark if you can’t write your name. If you want to keep cleaning until then, go ahead. I’ll pay you for yesterday and this morning when we meet, too."

Sam nodded. "Okay. I’ll finish up here, and be at your office at nine o’clock."

They shook on it, Rose pleased with her discovery and Sam surprised at the sudden turn his life had taken.

Chapter Forty-One
Stories