JOHN AND ROSE
Chapter Six
Rose walked casually into the train station,
looking around discreetly. A few people recognized her and turned to stare, but
most ignored her. She had taken pains to look as ordinary as possible, so as
not to draw attention. With Mary’s sense of adventure running amok, Rose did
not need to be distracted by fans and autograph seekers.
She was surprised to find that the express
train from Iowa to Los Angeles was already there; it was more common for trains
to be late than early. With a sinking heart, she walked toward the boarding
platform, keeping an eye out for Mary. She had purposely arrived fifteen
minutes early to give herself a chance to look around, but the train had been
half an hour early. Most of the passengers had already left, Mary and her "director"
among them.
Rose looked quickly around the train station,
and seeing no sign of Mary, hurried out to the street to look for her, hoping
that she was still in the vicinity, but there was no sign of her. Tamping down
her growing concern, Rose walked back into the station, heading for the
boarding area to question the porters.
"Excuse me, sir." Rose tapped one
man on the shoulder.
He turned to look at her, annoyed at being
interrupted. His eyes widened at the sight of one of Hollywood’s biggest stars.
"Yes, ma’am?"
"Did you happen to see a young girl with
bobbed red hair? She’s a little shorter than me, and probably would have been
accompanied by an older man with gray-streaked brown hair." When he raised
an eyebrow, she explained, "Her name is Mary Calvert, and she’s my niece.
I’m afraid I may have missed her."
She didn’t mention that the man accompanying
Mary was probably a con artist, or that Mary had run away from home. She knew
that Mary aspired to be a moving picture actress, and it wouldn’t help her at
all to have her reputation ruined before she ever got started.
The porter thought for a moment, trying to
remember if he had seen anyone matching that description in the press of people
coming and going. Finally, he shook his head.
"No, ma’am. I’m afraid I haven’t seen
either of them."
Rose bit her lip worriedly, but kept a calm
front. It wouldn’t do any good to panic. "Thank you, sir."
Her worry growing as time passed with no sign
of her errant niece, Rose walked around the station, questioning everyone who
might have seen Mary. She had no luck until she questioned a bum who had made
the station his home.
"Yer Rose Dawson, ain’tcha?" he
asked, staring at her. Although it was still early afternoon, his breath
already smelled of cheap wine.
"Ah...yes. Yes, I am." Rose avoided
the subject of who she was. "I’m looking for someone. My niece, Mary
Calvert. She has bobbed red hair–"
"I seen ‘er." He nodded, then
belched.
Rose backed away from him, trying not to show
her disgust. Then his words sunk in. "You saw her? When? Where was she
going? Was she with someone?"
"Yeah, she was with some smooth-lookin’
gent what let ‘er do all the carryin’. She was dressed up real pretty. Had on a
nice dress and high-heeled shoes. Real pretty gal."
Rose sighed with relief. At last, someone had
seen Mary. "Which way did they go?" she asked, wondering if knowing
their direction would even help. Los Angeles was a wide, sprawling city. She
could be anywhere.
"They walked off thataway." He
pointed. "’Bout an hour ago, I guess. She sure din’t look happy–carryin’
‘is bags and stumblin’ ‘long after ‘im in them shoes."
Rose looked where he was pointing, realizing
that they had gone in the direction of some old warehouses in a run-down area.
It would be almost impossible to find her there. Her heart sank as she thought
of the kind of trouble Mary could be in. A person could hide for weeks in the
jumble of buildings.
But at least she had some idea of where to
look, and where to send people to search. She turned to go, then realized that
the bum was looking at her expectantly, hoping for some kind of reward for the
information.
Rose dug into her purse quickly, pulling out
a one dollar bill and handing it to him. He would undoubtedly use the money to
buy more wine, but he had helped her. It was only fair that she give him
some kind of compensation.
"Thank you," she told him quickly,
then hurried away. Glancing at the clock in the station, she knew that her
director would be furious with her for ruining that day’s filming. But it
couldn’t be helped. No matter how upset he was, finding Mary was her biggest
concern at the moment.
*****
Mary wandered through the narrow streets and
alleyways of the warehouse district, having no idea where she was going. She
had looked around her while she and Ross walked to his warehouse, but the
dilapidated buildings all began to look the same after a while, and she had
been more concerned with keeping up with him than in watching where they were
going.
It was growing late, and the sun was
beginning to sink low in the sky. It would be night soon, and she didn’t know
where she was, or how to get back to the main part of the city. She hadn’t seen
many people on the streets after she had escaped from Ross’s warehouse, but it
had been hot and sunny, not the sort of weather people liked to go out in. As
it had grown later, however, she had seen more and more people–and some of them
didn’t look very friendly. She had no desire to spend the night on the streets
with unfriendly strangers.
Her panic rose as the streets began to
darken. She had tried to follow some of the legitimate-looking people out of
the area–workers and businessmen–but had soon become more lost than ever. A few
cars had gone past, the drivers staring at her in her strange attire. A couple
had slowed down, but she had ducked away, afraid of them.
Now, she began to wonder if she should have
tried to hitch a ride with one of them. She might have gotten back to the main
part of the city that way, and from there it would have been easier to find the
train station or to find out where Aunt Rose’s house was located. As it was, it
looked like she would be spending the night in one of the narrow alleyways
between the buildings, trying to hide from whatever dangers presented themselves.
She had no clothes except for the bloomers
and ripped corset Ross had given her, and the bedspread she had taken from him.
Her feet were sore from the sharp bullthorns and from wandering barefoot
through the streets. She couldn’t go back to get her things, even if she could
remember how to get back to Ross’s warehouse.
At least she could get off her feet if she
found a quiet corner to hide in. They became more sore with every step, and a
shallow cut from a piece of broken glass left occasional spots of blood on the
ground. The corset dug into her skin as she walked along, and the bedspread was
heavy and much too warm in the heat of the summer evening.
Resigned to spending the night in an alley,
Mary stopped where she was, looking around her for a safe place to go. She was
afraid to go into any abandoned buildings, and more afraid to wander into the
open land she had occasionally glimpsed at the ends of the streets, but she had
to take shelter somewhere. Catching sight of a man eyeing her with interest,
she quickly walked the other way, turning down a side street.
She needed a safe place to stay, but she
didn’t know where to go, or how to protect herself alone on the streets. Her
stomach growled hungrily, and she fought back a sudden urge to cry, wishing
that she had never left Cedar Rapids.
If only she had been able to find her way
back into the city, she could have gone to the train station and wired her
father for money for a ticket home. She didn’t have a penny to her name, but
perhaps she could have borrowed the money to wire him from someone. Or, she
could have found her way to Aunt Rose’s home, and stayed there until she could
go back to Cedar Rapids. Aunt Rose would have been angry with her, and so would
her father, but their anger was preferable to the terrifying feeling of being
lost in a strange city. They would have been angry with her for running off,
and undoubtedly would have lectured her endlessly on the dangers of running
away with strange men and then punished her in some way, but they wouldn’t hurt
her, unlike some of the people she had seen on the streets. Their anger would
have stemmed from worry and care, and they would eventually have forgiven her.
It was almost completely dark as she started
down another side street, taking a deep breath to keep the fear from
overwhelming her. She would find her way back tomorrow, if she had to walk all
the way to the ocean and then follow the beach back to civilization. Surely
someone was looking for her by now–her father, Nadia, Aunt Rose...Nadia would
have had an idea of where she had gone, and she knew her sister too well to
believe she had kept quiet. No, when Nadia worried about something, she gave no
one peace until the problem was resolved. And Nadia would worry about her
sister. She hadn’t liked Mr. Ross from the start.
Mary was startled from her thoughts by the
sound of a car’s horn. Looking behind her, she saw the car following her,
slowing and pulling over as it came closer. All thoughts of stopping fled her
mind as fear filled her. Someone was following her through the dark streets.
Turning on her heel, she ran back the way she
had come, knowing that it would take the driver of the car some time to turn it
around in the narrow roadway. If she could disappear down another street, she
might be able to get away.
The car stopped, the driver getting out and
running after her.
"Mary! Mary, stop!" A woman’s voice
rang out.
Panicking, Mary didn’t take the time to
wonder how the person knew her name, or to wonder why a woman would be
following her through the darkness. Putting on a fresh burst of speed, she
raced up the alleyway. The bedspread dropped from her hands, but she didn’t
stop to pick it up.
The woman was following her, running faster
than Mary could with her sore feet. Desperately, she tried to run faster, but
her stalker tackled her, knocking both of them to the ground. She screamed,
struggling to get away.
The woman yelped as Mary’s foot found her
shin, but she didn’t let go. Wrapping her arms more tightly around the
struggling girl, she pinned her to the ground.
"Let me go! Please!" Mary begged,
hating the frightened sound of her own voice. What did the woman intend to do
to her?
"Mary, calm down. I’m not going to hurt
you. Don’t you recognize me?"
Mary stilled, the familiar voice penetrating
her fear-fogged mind.
"Aunt Rose?"