JOHN AND ROSE
Chapter Forty-Nine
August 20, 1931
Cedar Rapids, Iowa
Nadia crept quietly from her bed, putting on
her robe and stepping into the hall. In spite of how late she had stayed out
the night before, she was up early. She’d had trouble sleeping during the few
hours she had been laying down, as had everyone else in the household, she
suspected.
Her father had gotten up and left for work at
the usual time. Nadia had heard him grumbling to himself as he had walked
sleepily down the hall and stumbled down the stairs. She had heard Rose’s voice
shortly thereafter, talking on the phone to Polly at Dawson Films and telling
her that she wouldn’t be coming in today.
As Nadia stepped out of the bathroom, dark
circles still ringing her eyes in spite of her liberal application of powder,
she saw Ruth emerging from her room. Frowning, Nadia stared at her, remembering
that she was supposed to have started work this morning and wondering what she
was still doing there. She wasn’t sure whether to speak to her or not.
She hadn’t been so quick to condemn her as
Rose had been. She had only known Ruth for a few years, and in that time she
had always seemed to her to be a doting grandmother. She knew that Ruth and
Rose didn’t always get along, but even after the incident the night before, she
couldn’t help but wonder if there was more going on than met the eye. To be
sure, Ruth didn’t approve of Sam, but she didn’t really seem to wish him harm,
either, despite what Rose thought. She had seen how hurt Ruth had been at the
accusations, and Nadia really didn’t know what to think. Surely her grandmother
had known that if the Klan members attacked Sam, they might hurt Nadia as well.
Ruth answered the unspoken question in
Nadia’s eyes. Her face stoic and unsmiling, she told her, "I’m on my way
out. I’ll start work tomorrow, according to your father." She stopped, not
knowing what else to say.
"Grandma…" Nadia stopped. She
didn’t know what to say, either. Ruth had lived with her family off and on
since John and Rose were married, and Nadia couldn’t help but be sorry to see
her go now, especially since there was no telling if Rose would ever allow her
to come back. Even in light of the fact that Ruth had known about what the Klan
was planning and hadn’t said anything, she was still Nadia’s grandmother—or at
least as close to it as Elizabeth Anders in New York was. Nadia supposed that
she might have grandparents elsewhere in the world, but she didn’t know who
they might be, or if they were even still alive. Ruth was family.
"I would never deliberately harm you,
Nadia," Ruth told her. "I hope you can believe that. I don’t like
Sam, but…if I had seriously believed that what I’d overheard was true, rather
than the talk of disgruntled men, I would have told you outright, rather than
hinting at Sam to stay away from you. Please believe me."
"I don’t if I can, Grandma," Nadia
replied, looking at the floor and shuffling uneasily. "What happened last
night was horrible, the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen—or at least that I
can remember. I’ve heard some things about the Titanic, which I was on, but I
don’t remember any of what happened. All I know is what you, Mom, and Dad have
told me. But that was a horrible accident, something no one expected—and this
was deliberate. Those men tried to murder Sam. One of them tried to attack me.
It wasn’t any accident, and you knew that it might happen."
"Nadia, I was wrong. I should have told
all of you what I’d heard. But it didn’t seem that likely that anything would
happen. Perhaps it was foolish of me to disregard what I heard, but…it didn’t
really think that they would go through with it. You know how people talk. It’s
a mistake I won’t repeat. I know how angry you are now, but I hope that in the
future you can forgive me."
"Maybe, Grandma. I can’t make any
promises."
Rose came out of her room, a covered pail of
dirty diapers in her hand. She stopped when she saw Ruth.
"Mother, why are you still here? I
thought you would be away from here and at work by now."
"I’m on my way out, Rose. John told me
that the job will start tomorrow. He has to fire his old foreman and promote
someone else before the job will be available."
"Where will you be staying?"
"With the Jamesons. They have an extra
room in their house that they’ll be glad to rent out. I called Laura Jameson
early this morning. It’s all arranged."
"Then good-bye, Mother. I hope you’ve
finally learned something from this."
"More than you could ever imagine, Rose.
More than you could ever imagine."
And with that, Ruth picked up her suitcase
and walked down the stairs and out the front door without a backward glance.
*****
After Rose had carried the malodorous bucket
downstairs, Nadia walked quietly to Jane’s room, opening the door slowly and
peering inside. Sam was sprawled asleep on the floor, half-covered by a sheet,
while Jane was curled up at his back, her security blanket clutched in one hand
and her thumb stuck in her mouth. She was snoring softly.
Slowly, Nadia approached Sam, reluctant to
wake him. It had been a horrible night for everyone, but most of all for him.
She put a hand to her own throat, wondering what it had felt like to have the
noose slipped over his head, to know that with a quick push from someone else
or a slip of his feet he would die. She was just glad that they had arrived
when they had—and that most of the Klan members gathered around had been so
quick to slip away and leave their victim behind.
The Calverts had been reluctant to take Sam
home to the rundown shack he was living in on the outskirts of town. Not only
was it very late, but there no telling whether some angry, disappointed Klan
member might attack him there, or even waylay the car as it made its way there.
Sam had said that he could walk home, but he hadn’t protested too loudly when
Rose had insisted that he stay with them for the night.
Nadia had offered to let him stay in her
room—of the other three bedrooms, one was occupied by John, Rose, and Peter,
the second by Jane, and the third by Ruth. Rose had been angry, but not angry
enough to kick Ruth out of her room on her last night there, and the living
room couch was too short and lumpy for anyone to sleep peacefully on.
Both John and Rose had nixed that idea
immediately, though—John not wanting his unmarried daughter to spend the night
with a man, no matter how innocently, and Rose pointing out that unplanned
things could happen, especially with emotions running high. Sam had been
relegated to a pallet on the floor of Jane’s room.
Apparently, Jane hadn’t slept any better than
anyone else, because she was sleeping soundly at Sam’s back. Nadia wondered if
Sam even realized that the child was there.
Nadia tried to walk as quietly as possible,
but at the faint sound of her footsteps, Sam sat up abruptly, startling Nadia
and awakening Jane. The little girl gripped Sam’s arm, startling him further,
and he looked around with wide, frightened eyes until he remembered where he
was and who he was with.
"Nadia." He shook his head to clear
it, the previous night still at the forefront of his mind. A near-lynching
wasn’t something he would forget quickly.
"And me." Jane’s little voice came
from beside him.
"And Jane." He looked around the
child’s room, still uneasy.
Nadia sat down on Jane’s bed, drawing the cat
that had been sleeping there into her lap and stroking it absently.
"Sam…how are you doing this morning?" She looked more closely at him,
noting the rope burns at his wrists and neck, which stood out more now than
they had a few hours earlier.
"I…uh…I’m fine…I guess."
They both stopped, glancing at each other a
little uncomfortably. In spite of their loving words the night before, they
were nervous now, neither knowing quite how to handle the situation they had
found themselves in.
Finally, Nadia cleared her throat nervously,
holding a hand out to Jane, who ran over to her and crawled into her lap, displacing
the cat, who sprang up with an outraged yowl and crawled under the bed, staring
at its tormentors with slitted eyes.
"Sam…uh…why don’t you get cleaned up and
come down to the kitchen for breakfast? Grandma’s left, so she won’t be here to
glare at you…" She trailed off, thinking about why Ruth had left.
Sam looked at the clock on Jane’s wall,
noting the time. "I should be going. We’re filming today."
Nadia shook her head. "Mom took the day
off. I don’t think she’ll mind if you do, too—but she’s downstairs doing
laundry if you want to ask her."
Sam shrugged, climbing out of the makeshift
bed and beginning to fold it up. "I guess I can do that."
"She won’t mind. She knows what
happened…uh…last night…"
They stared at each other, wondering if they
should talk about what had happened, or leave the subject alone. It was raw and
painful, but eventually it had to come out.
But not just yet. Sam finished folding up the
blankets and set them on the end of Jane’s bed. "I’ll be down soon,"
he told her, avoiding her eyes.
Nadia nodded, looking down at she stood up.
Jane held her arms out, begging to be picked up and carried. Nadia set her on
her hip, looking at her little sister instead of at Sam.
"We’ll be in the kitchen when you come
down…if you’re hungry," she told him. "I’m sure I can find
something…"
Sam nodded. "Okay." He glanced at
her, and then, still uncomfortable, shuffled down the hall, limping a little
from where he’d hurt his feet the night before.
Nadia watched him with concern. "Don’t
be too long," she called after him, settling Jane more securely in her
arms and heading for the stairs.