THE EDUCATION OF ROSE DAWSON: PART I
Chapter Eleven
Separation
There was a lot less conversation
on the ride back to the shelter than there was to St. Vincent’s. Rose and Miss
Howard arrived a little late for dinner, but Brigadier Bown instructed the
kitchen staff to reheat some leftovers for them. The two remained mostly quiet
as they ate; the visit to St. Vincent’s was a painful reminder that the effects
of the sinking were still very close to them. Miss Howard finished first and
returned upstairs to finish packing. Rose stayed in the dining hall, insisting
that she be allowed to help do something. The kitchen staff finally let her
clean the table where she and Miss Howard ate and help collect the dirty dishes
to be washed.
When Rose exited the dining hall
into the lobby, she found Mr. Word talking to Brigadier Bown. He saw her first
and waved. "Hello again, Miss Dawson! We’ve finished fixing your room. You
should be able to move in tonight."
"Thank you once again, Mr.
Word. I look forward to it."
"It was our pleasure. I’m
sorry that I can’t stay longer. I have to escort one of the volunteers home. I
do hope we meet again, Miss Dawson." Mr. Word shook Rose and Brigadier
Bown’s hands and hurried out the door.
Rose let out a soft sigh, which
Brigadier Bown overheard. "What’s wrong, Miss Dawson?" she asked with
a concerned look in her eyes.
"I lost all who were dear to
me in the sinking, and now it seems that some of the friends I have made in the
last week are leaving me too soon. Miss Howard is moving upstate. Mrs. Abbott
may never walk again, and I only hope she has not lost the will to live. As for
Mr. Word, he works across the street, but I fear it may be a very long time
before I see him again."
"You must have established a
fine acquaintance with him, Miss Dawson."
Rose nodded. "I did. He
seems like a very progressive gentleman, which is rare. In a way, he reminds me
of someone I lost."
Brigadier Bown patted Rose on the
shoulder. "Mr. Word has been one of our most generous supporters, volunteering
his time whenever he can. He is easy to like. I’m sure you’ll see him again.
Perhaps you can ask him to have dinner with you sometime."
"Yes, that would be a good
idea."
"In the meantime, why don’t
you go upstairs and see your new room?"
"Thank you, Madam
Bown." Rose hurried upstairs to see her room. It smelled like it had just
been renovated. The bunk bed she and Miss Howard shared had already been moved
inside. Also in the room were two simple drawers, a mirror, two lockers, two
small tables, and two chairs. Rose knew that sooner or later she would have a
new roommate.
*****
Later that evening, Miss Howard
had finished packing and was prepared to leave the shelter for the last time.
"They gave me another twenty dollars," she told Rose, who helped her
ready her belongings for the trip to the train station. "Well, Miss
Dawson, it was great sharing a bunk bed with you for two nights. The Army
should have a car waiting downstairs to take me to Grand Central. Another passenger
from the Titanic is also going to Albion, so I won’t be alone. They told
me it’s an overnight trip, and we’ll have to change trains at Rochester."
Rose was not ready to say her
final good-byes. "Miss Howard, I would like to accompany you to the
station."
"Do you really want to do
this, Miss Dawson? I think I’ll be well-escorted."
"I insist. I hope you do not
mind."
"No, I don’t. But I thought
you’d want more time to rest and enjoy your new sleeping quarters."
"That can wait. But come
downstairs with me first. Madam Bown knows that you are leaving tonight, and
she has arranged an early supper for you. She has also allowed me to dine with
you because I told her that I wanted to go with you to the train station. It is
only a light meal. I know you are not very hungry after we had that late
dinner."
"Not very, but I’ll have
something to fill up my stomach. I don’t know what kind of food they serve on
the train," she joked.
"So, we will have one more
meal together," said Rose. They went downstairs to eat.
*****
At 7:30 PM, Rose and Miss Howard
pulled up in front of Grand Central Palace. A couple of uniformed officials
from another relief agency and a young man were already there waiting for them.
"Miss May Howard, I would presume?" the man asked Rose in accented
English with a moderate Latin tinge after she alighted from the SA car first.
Rose corrected him. "No, I
am her friend, Rose Dawson." She shook his hand and pointed to Miss
Howard, who was just getting out of the car. "This is Miss Howard."
"Sorry," the man said
sheepishly, as he went over to shake Miss Howard’s hand. "I’m Joseph Duquemin. A pleasure to meet you."
"May Elizabeth Howard. First
time in America, Mr. Duquemin?"
"Yes. I’m from Guernsey in
the Channel Islands. And you?"
"North Walsham in Norfolk,
England. Did you get on a lifeboat during the sinking?" Miss Howard was
curious because Mr. Duquemin was neither a woman nor a child, and she had thus
far encountered few other adult male survivors and had yet to speak to any of
them.
The question made Mr. Duquemin a
bit uneasy. "No, I had to swim for a little while before a boat picked me
up," he finally said. "I was sent to hospital when the Carpathia
docked. I think I’m better now."
Very fortunate of the fellow.
More fortunate than Jack.
Miss Howard, however, soon
realized the sensitivity of her question. "Sorry, Mr. Duquemin. I
shouldn’t have asked you that." She also gave Rose a guilty look, but Rose
dismissed the matter by waving it off.
"No apologies needed, Miss
Howard," said Mr. Duquemin. "It’s something we survivors will share
for the rest of our lives."
True, but when can I share the
truth about my own experience? Maybe never.
"Did you have a pleasant
stay in New York?" asked Mr. Duquemin.
"It was very
interesting," replied Miss Howard. "But I prefer the small town or
the countryside."
"I do, too," said Mr.
Duquemin. "I think Albion will be more like home than New York."
One of the uniformed officials
checked his pocket watch. "Mr. Duquemin, we haven’t much time. Now, if you
and Miss Howard can kindly follow us." They assisted Miss Howard and Mr.
Duquemin with their luggage, while Rose instructed the driver of the SA car to
wait for her while she accompanied the two inside, after which they re-emerged
minutes later at an outdoor terminal where the prominent tower of the palace
could be seen in the background.
(L) NYT advertisement for the New York
Central; (R)
The temporary terminal at Grand Central Palace
They found the track on which a
New York Central and Hudson River Railroad train was waiting to take the two Titanic
survivors upstate. The other uniformed official took two tickets out of his
pocket and handed them to Mr. Duquemin and Miss Howard. "The conductor
will check your tickets after you’re seated, but remember you have to change
trains at Rochester," he told them. "Since this is an overnight
train, you will have to be awake by the time it arrives at Rochester, which is
before sunrise."
"Thank you," said Miss Howard
and Mr. Duquemin almost simultaneously. They shook the hands of the uniformed
officials and Mr. Duquemin boarded first, while some porters helped transport
their luggage inside. "This train for Buffalo and all points in between
will depart in fifteen minutes!" bellowed the conductor shortly after.
Rose and Miss Howard remained on
the platform looking at each other for perhaps the last time. "This is
it," said Miss Howard. "I’ve only known you for two days, and yet I
feel I’m losing a family member." Her voice began to choke.
Rose took her hand.
"Remember what you told me these past two days? You wanted me to stay
strong. You have to do that, too, Miss Howard."
"Y-you’re right, Miss
Dawson. It’s easier to tell others to do it than to do it myself."
"But you must. This country
is your home now, and you will be starting a new life upstate. Fortunately, we
will not be too far apart. We can always write to each other, and maybe one day
you can come back down to the city, or I can travel up to see you."
"That would be a good
idea."
"Yes, it would be, and do
not worry. You, at least, have family. I will be alone."
"Miss Dawson, you don’t have
to be alone. If you want a family, then you can start your own. A husband,
perhaps?"
I lost two prospective
husbands from the sinking, only one of whom I loved. "I think it is too early for me to
start a family. I could do with a situation for now–just to make myself
useful." But what can I do?
"This train for Buffalo and
all points in between will depart in five minutes!" hollered the voice of
the conductor again. "This is the last call!"
Rose and Miss Howard realized
they had less than a minute of conversation left. "It’s time for me to get
on," said Miss Howard, shedding one last tear before she locked Rose in a
deep embrace. "Please take care of yourself, Miss Dawson." As if to
hurry things up, the train’s large whistle wailed. The two friends knew it was
time to break off their hug.
"You look after yourself,
too, Miss Howard. And please write to me with your new address once you have
settled down." Rose stood by as Miss Howard boarded the train, which began
to roll out of the station a few minutes later. Miss Howard, having secured a
window seat, waved at Rose from inside the train. Rose, fighting back tears,
waved back and followed the train down the platform, trying to keep Miss Howard
in her line of sight while avoiding any obstacles in her path. "Good-bye!
Have a safe trip. I will miss you!" she shouted. I will never let go.
Soon, the train’s acceleration
exceeded Rose’s ability to keep pace with it. After it disappeared beyond her
view, Rose looked at a clock in the station. It read 8:05 PM. Two evenings
earlier, she did not encounter Miss Howard until after eleven PM outside Pier
54. Hence, they had known each other for less than forty-eight hours, which was
less time than Rose had known Jack. Yet, they felt like sisters seeing one
another for the last time.
Rose slowly walked back out to
the street with the uniformed officials, where their cars were waiting. The
ride back to the shelter was the quietest and loneliest journey she had made in
recent memory. Even during the solemn journey aboard the Carpathia, she
was at least in the company of fellow survivors. On this ride, however, she had
no conversation companion, not even the driver. She felt totally isolated – not unlike the moment before her
rescue by Officer Lowe.
Jack, I could use your company
right now.
*****
Back at the shelter, Rose entered
her new room again. It seemed less inviting than when she saw it earlier in the
day. She went to her locker in the corridor, cleaned out its contents, brought
them to her room, and placed them inside one of the drawers, which had a lock
and key. Then she sat on the lower bunk of her bed reminiscing about her two
days with Miss Howard.
Brigadier Bown happened to pass
by her room, the door of which was still open, and came in. "Miss Dawson,
you’re back. Did you give Miss Howard a warm good-bye?"
"Hello, Madam Bown. We gave
each other a big hug before she boarded the train. Other than that, it did not
seem so warm for either of us."
"It’s hard to bid farewell
to someone you’re close to, but that’s God’s will. I’ve helped the Army run
shelters in this country for twenty years, and I’ve seen countless numbers of
women pass through them. I developed a strong affinity for a few of them, too,
but when they leave the shelter, I tell myself that their lives are better than
when they arrived, and that means the Army has done its duty."
Why does God tantalize me by
taking away those I care about at the worst possible time? "Twenty years, Madam Bown? That is
longer than I have been alive. Then you have been here longer than Madam Booth
herself."
"Yes, I have. When I started
here, her brother Ballington and his wife Maud oversaw Army operations here.
One of my early assignments was to lead a mission down to the Lower East Side
to work with the poor. My assistants and I dressed in rags to avoid being seen
as outsiders."
"Just like Madam Booth when
she was in England."
"Right. We also opened a
nursery and entered saloons and taverns to plead with the patrons to renounce
their lives of sin. We even sang to them to get them to give up drinking. We
didn’t convert many people, and were even ridiculed by some, but we eventually
won a great deal of praise."
"So you persevered despite
the fact that you faced rejection every day."
"Exactly. Miss Dawson, I
understand you have undergone a lot of transition over the past week, and much
of it has been unhappy. I could tell that there’s so much you want to
accomplish with your life because you mentioned you want to make each day
count. But some things just cannot be hurried. It’s like fishing. If you keep
pursuing the fish without success, then perhaps you’ve scared it away.
Sometimes you have to be patient and let the fish come to you."
Rose was hesitant to believe
Brigadier Bown’s advice at first, since her own interpretation of "making
it count" up till now meant aggressively pursuing her goals. In this, she
was influenced by Jack’s portrait of "Madame Bijoux," the woman who
patiently, but futilely, sat in the same bar every night waiting for her long
lost love who never came. But Brigadier Bown’s fishing analogy made her rethink
her strategy, which was too akin to Cal’s motto of "A man makes his own
luck." (That was easy to say for someone with the good fortune to be born
rich and suckled on his father’s wealth and connections.) Moreover, Jack never
told her that she always had to be aggressive. He would know, since good
luck found him a few times aboard Titanic. "You may be right, Madam
Bown. I never saw it that way."
"You’ve shown a resilience
I’ve seen in few other women, but you still have much to learn, dear. Right
now, you need more time to recuperate. I would like you to take it easy for now
because I don’t want anything bad to happen to you."
"Yes, Madam Bown."
Brigadier Bown gave Rose a hug.
"Things will get better, I promise you. In fact, they already have. You’ll
be sleeping in your own room tonight."
"Yes, but it will be lonely,
though."
"Probably not for long. Once
we have a new guest, we’ll put her here. Hopefully she will be as good a
companion for you as Miss Howard."
"I look forward to it."
"It’s getting late, Miss
Dawson. I’ll leave you now so you can retire for the night. I will see you in
the morning." Brigadier Bown left the room.
Rose went to the washroom to
shower and brush her teeth before going to bed. She turned off the light and
lay on her bed in the darkness trying to remember the last time she slept alone
in a room. During a month of travel to and from Europe, which included a
combined two weeks aboard various ships, and the first two nights at the
shelter, she always had a slumber mate, even if she did not necessarily enjoy
that person’s company. But sleeping by herself tonight did not only feel lonely;
it also felt strange.
She then shut her eyes in an
effort to will herself to sleep. Let me dream about Jack. His spirit can
always keep me company.