A FIRE IN THE WIND
Chapter Twenty-Nine

Rose woke up Sunday morning, and started to breathe heavily. 'It can't be!' she thought. 'It's just not possible!' But it was. It was Sunday, May 5, 1912, the day of her wedding to Caledon Hockley. She was about to enter the gates of hell, and this time there would be no one to say, "Don't do it."

Rose lay on her bed, trying to block reality out of her mind. It was impossible, because whether she liked it or not, this was reality. It wasn't the world Jack lived in. It wasn't the world where you could be your own person, and love life for what it was. Rose had given up hope, because she knew that that would never be her world. Jack's reality would never be her reality.

Rose collapsed on her bed. She wasn't willing to face the day. She wanted to slip into a dream and never wake up. Rose knew that would not be possible as she heard footsteps come down the hallway towards her room.

Ruth entered her daughter's room to find Rose lying on her stomach, awake. "Good morning, dear," said Ruth, obviously in a good mood.

Rose nodded, remaining as composed as she possibly could in this kind of situation.

"You had better get up," Ruth said, eyeing Rose's messy appearance. "You needn't sleep in on the day of your wedding."

Rose looked up at her mother, much too devastated to even attempt a smile.

"Well than," Ruth replied, a little nervous about Rose's depressed state. "Breakfast is in thirty minutes. Please don't move too slowly. We have a lot of work to do before this afternoon."

"I'll be quick," Rose replied, blankly.

"Good." Ruth smiled. "I'll send for Joanna in a few minutes."

Rose let out a sigh so massive that she was surprised her mother, who was already down the hallway, didn't hear it. All it took was two simple words and her life would be ruined. "I do." What if she didn't say them? What then? Rose didn't know.

Breakfast was hectic. Ruth and Cal were going over a list of necessities for the wedding, while Rose and her grandmother exchanged glances. Mary stared into her granddaughter's deep blue eyes and tried to make some sense out of what Rose was thinking. It was impossible to tell. It seemed as if Rose was in some horrible nightmare that just wouldn't go away. Just like the ones Rose got after her father died. Mary could do nothing but shake her head, and make sure that her tears of empathy for Rose did not fall.

'Poor child,' Mary thought. 'She is just about to make the worst decision of her life. She is going to marry him.'

The tension was palpable between Cal, Rose, and Ruth, to Mary, Nathan, and any of the household servants. Cal and Ruth kept looking at Rose, possibly to see if she was going to be obedient on the day of her wedding. The look was harsh and judging, almost identical to the look that you would give a small child.

Rose couldn't look at them. 'They're the people that forced this upon me!' Rose thought, utterly distraught. 'They're the ones who--but I went along with it, didn't I? I listened to them. I wouldn't speak up for myself. But the scary part of it all is, I really could have. I could have done something about it right when the problem started. I guess it's much too late to scold myself about this. It's done. It's over. There's no turning back now. Today is the day I become Mrs. Caledon Hockley. Oh, God. What if that's exactly what I turn into? Caledon Hockley's obedient wife. She would never think twice about marrying Cal. She would never speak back, or act unladylike, or have an affair with a penniless artist. No. She's a lady, nothing more. That's what I'll become. That will be me.'

After the coffee was drunk and the breakfast dishes all taken away, Ruth gave Cal the "look" and Cal stood up, ready to leave.

"Well," Cal said, tense but excited, "I believe we have a few things to deal with at the church before the wedding ceremony, so if you would excuse us. Father, Mary, we will see you at one."

It took a few seconds for the words to hit Rose's head. She stood up in a trance, her eyes diligently staring at the wall. She knew that these would be her last few hours of her freedom, or what was left of it. Cal tightly grasped her arm and began to lead her into the main hall of her house. Rose knew that she wouldn't be able to escape Cal's agile body. Cal walked hastily, practically dragging Rose across the house as Rose tried to keep up to his fast pace.

Rose took a last look around her house. She would never look at it the same way again. She would never look at it with her fire, her spirit, her love for life.

Chapter Thirty
Stories