A FIRE IN THE WIND
Chapter Twenty-One
Rose had successfully sneaked up to her room
without being seen. She was almost positive that her mother or Cal had found
the note she had left. It was 11:30. Too late.
All of a sudden, Ruth came through the door.
She jumped at the sight of Rose, but regained her composure instantly.
"I suspect you have a good excuse for
sneaking out at such an early hour in the morning, almost giving Cal and I a
heart attack!" Ruth said, both sarcastic and fierce.
Rose just stared her mother in the eye. After
all the years of being afraid, she wasn't anymore.
"Rose?" Ruth replied to Rose's
action. "What is the matter with you? I see you didn't listen to a word I
said last night."
Rose continued to stare blankly into her
mother's eyes, not moving at all or showing any signs of emotion besides anger.
Anger for the woman that forgot what a childhood is. Anger for the woman that
was making her marry some arrogant bastard. Anger for the woman who had loathed
Jack. Anger for the woman who just wouldn't change.
Ruth was perplexed, to say the least. Why was
Rose giving her that look? "Rose? Rose?" Ruth tried her best to get
Rose's attention, but it didn't work.
Ruth didn't have anything left to say. What
could she say? Rose had finally reached the limit with dealing with her mother.
Ruth exited Rose's room, locking the door behind her.
Rose didn't care. She didn't cry over her
mother. She never did. It was a small price to pay for her freedom. Rose
sighed, and decided to make this time useful. She got out a suitcase buried
deep in her closet and began to pack. This wasn't the first time Ruth had
locked Rose in her room. No. Whenever Rose had done anything wrong, Ruth would
lock Rose in her room for sometimes hours.
Jon had always been against it. He knew how
hard it was for Rose to be raised by her mother at times. Ruth was strict. She
believed in harsh discipline and wouldn't let Rose get away with anything at
all. Jon had always thought Rose was strong. She would never cry and not to cry
when Ruth was in charge was tough. Ruth DeWitt Bukater knew how to make someone
feel awful for just about any reason. Rose sometimes felt it was her mother's
duty in life to make people feel bad about themselves.
Rose tried to keep her mind off of the subject.
What had she packed so far? Rose looked at the tidy pile she had started making
on the ground, and counted the items diligently, four evening gowns, six day
time dresses, two nightgowns, and most of her books. The dresses were a
stretch. They seemed much too fancy with the beadwork and the silk. Rose didn't
have anything simple enough for her "new" life so she decided to buy
a wardrobe of simpler outfits after she ran away.
'Run away?' Rose thought. 'But where to? Will
Jack and I be able to afford to travel? I'm so scared, yet so excited. Jack's
life is so foreign to me. I'd love to live it. I guess I'm just being paranoid.
Suppose Mother or Cal found out? What then? I wish I were an optimist! I'd be
able to deal with this situation so easily. If I were, I would have stayed on
the Titanic when it was sinking.'
Rose threw some accessories into the
suitcase. Maybe she could bring some money along. Just enough to go to Santa
Monica and get settled. She decided to go to Cal's safe the first chance she
got.
'Santa Monica,' Rose thought with a laugh. 'I
can't wait. I suppose it will be our first destination, wouldn't it? I have
always wanted to go to California, but I never had the opportunity. I suppose
it's quite different from Philadelphia. Jack could draw on the pier, and I
could work, although I've never had a job in my life. With practice, I am sure
I'd be quite competent to hold a decent job. I would love to be a film actress!
I never mentioned it to Mother before. Of course not. Everyone in my world
thinks of actresses as prostitutes. There are too many boundaries.'
Rose wasn't used to packing for herself. It
was a strange, yet wonderful, sensation. For the first time in her life, Rose
felt independent. Just the thought of her and Jack making decisions on where
they wanted to go next in the world made Rose feel ecstatic. It would be
wonderful, just her, Jack, and the world. There would be no high society. There
would be no boundaries.
When Rose was finished she put the full
suitcase back in her closet, feeling cheered up. Her mother had tried to make
her guilty, and Rose was almost sure Cal would, too, but nothing would work.
Rose was on the top of the world, with Jack by her side. The world was one
giant blank canvas. Rose knew it was time to start painting.