ROSE GOES ON
Chapter Fifteen

March 1917

"Mrs. Dawson! Mrs. Dawson, wait a moment!"

Rose turned as one of the assistant directors came hurrying up to her, breathing hard. He had been running all over the lot, searching for her.

"Yes?" Rose stopped and turned to face him, a bit impatiently. It was growing late, and she was eager to get home to her son.

"Mr. Hinesdale would like to speak with you before you leave."

Mr. Hinesdale was the director of the moving picture Rose was currently acting in. He was planning upon starting a new picture soon, one about Broadway, and Rose had submitted her resume to him, hoping that she might be cast as one of the chorus girls he was looking for. She had always loved dancing, though she had done little of it in the past few years. Still, she had thought it was worth a try, so she had applied for the role of a chorus girl.

"Where is he?" she asked, looking around. The assistant had obviously traveled all over the filming area before finding her.

"In his office. He wants to see you immediately."

Hinesdale was something of a maverick, not settling down to work with any one studio. Instead, he moved from company to company, making a variety of different films and employing different actors. His goal, Rose had heard, was to found his own moving picture company, but so far that dream had not been fulfilled. Still, he was one of the best directors she had worked with, even if she caught only a few glimpses of him.

Nodding, Rose turned and headed in the direction of Hinesdale’s makeshift office. Since he never stayed with any one studio for long, he had no permanent office with any of them. Instead, he set up working space wherever it was available--in an empty warehouse on the edge of the lot this time. It was a long walk, but Rose made it in record time. If only she could get the part she wanted!

Hinesdale’s secretary sat at her desk in front of the cordoned off area that served as the director’s working space. Engrossed in typing, she hardly looked up when Rose came into the room.

"Yes?" she asked after a few minutes, looking up at Rose.

"Mr. Ledesma told me that Mr. Hinesdale wanted to see me."

"Rose Dawson?"

"Yes."

"Go ahead. Mr. Hinesdale is waiting for you."

Rose hurried into Hinesdale’s office, her heart pounding with both anticipation and nervousness. The role that she wanted wasn’t big--it certainly wouldn’t make her a star--but she wanted it anyway. It seemed like forever since she had really had the opportunity to dance. She had done a few small dancing parts, and had gone out dancing with a couple of young men, but it never been as much as she wanted. She knew that the chorus girl roles included dancing; the audition notice had specifically said so.

"Mr. Hinesdale?" Rose stopped in front of the desk where he was working furiously, editing this and that in the script for tomorrow’s filming.

"Mrs. Dawson. Have a seat." He gestured to the wooden chair beside her.

Rose sat down, looking at him expectantly. She tried not to hope too hard that she would get this role--if she didn’t expect much, she couldn’t be disappointed--but the hope was there, nonetheless.

"Mrs. Dawson, I would like to speak with you about your performance today."

Rose’s heart sank. She knew she shouldn’t have gone against the directions the extras had been given, but the scene had been so much fun, and the atmosphere so stimulating, that she had spontaneously begun to dance. It had been a crowd scene, involving a group of people watching a parade of returning soldiers from the Civil War. She had not been the only one dancing--a group of female extras had been instructed to do so--but it wasn’t what she was supposed to have been doing. She was supposed to watch the soldiers go by, then run out and hug one of them--her "sweetheart", returned safe and sound from the war.

Mentally, she kissed the prospect of being cast as a chorus girl good-bye. Hinesdale was one of the best directors around, but he was also one of the sternest. He demanded perfection from everyone, including himself. Occasionally, he let the actors make their own decisions, but usually he ruled the scene with an iron fist. Rose doubted that her spontaneous dancing had raised her in his eyes.

"I took note of your dancing during one of the takes of the parade scene," he started. "Not exactly what you were told to do, but skillful nonetheless."

"Uh...thank you, sir," Rose told him, surprised at the indirect praise. She wished he would finish his lecture quickly and let her leave. It was after dark, and Christopher would be waiting for his mother.

"That take was the one we chose to use," he told her, surprising her yet again. She had expected that it would be thrown out.

At least I’ll be in that scene, she thought, suddenly realizing that her spontaneous behavior might get her fired. Being fired by such a well-known director would be a major set-back to her career. I can always go back to waiting tables, she remembered, knowing that the restaurant would take her back if she wanted, but a career as a waitress wasn’t exactly what she had had in mind when she came here. If that were her only prospect, she might as well have stayed in New York City, where she would be near to the people who had become her family.

"I was actually rather impressed with your skill as a dancer. I saw you in another moving picture where you danced, but you were only on the screen for a moment, blending in with the rest of the crowd."

Rose nodded, remembering the scene and the film. It had been a low-budget production of Romeo and Juliet, one that had done amazingly well in the theaters. She had enjoyed working on it, although the familiar story brought back memories of her own lost love.

Fidgeting slightly, she looked across the desk at him, wishing that he would hurry and say whatever he had to say, and let her go. She could hear the sounds of people outside, arriving to film a night scene, and wanted to be off the lot before she got in the way.

"Mrs. Dawson, the reason that I called you in here is because of your dancing."

Rose groaned inwardly. This was it. She was about to be fired.

"I received your resume for a chorus girl role in my next picture, and that, combined with what I saw today, is enough to convince me." He stopped, looking at her.

"Ah...convince you of what, sir?"

"I want to cast you as one of the dancers in Lights."

Rose’s heart leapt. Was she about to be given what she had hoped for?

"Lights? Is that the title of your new moving picture?"

"Tentatively. I have been auditioning various actresses for this role, but thus far I haven’t one that suits. I have been working my way through the applications, looking for the best actress for this role. Yours, I must admit, was not on the list of people I planned to audition, but your performance today changed my mind. I was considering you for a chorus girl role--"

"Are--are you going to cast me as a chorus girl?" Rose asked, interrupting him. She could have bitten her tongue when she said this. It was never a good idea to interrupt an interviewer.

"No, I don’t think so. I’ve pretty well filled the chorus girl roles. Your dance experience was sparse, to say the least."

Rose was growing confused. If he didn’t want to cast her as a chorus girl, what did he want? That was the role she had applied for.

"Sir...I’m not sure I understand."

"Mrs. Dawson, after watching your performance today, I have another role in mind for you, if you’re interested."

"Why...yes, I’m interested. What is it?"

"There are five main dancers in supporting roles, besides the star. The character I have in mind for you has no lines, but she does appear throughout the picture. Your main job would be dancing, although there are also some dressing room and street scenes. It isn’t the biggest role, but I believe you are suited for it. Filming will begin in May, all done locally. There will be both day and night filming required, but you’ll usually know ahead of time what I have planned. I am aware that you have a child to care for--Mr. Ledesma informed me of such. However, you will be paid well, and you can even bring your child with you if there is a caretaker available. What do you think, Mrs. Dawson?"

Rose was stunned by her sudden success--and a little suspicious. "What do I have to do to get this role?" she asked, eyeing him distrustfully.

"You need to sign this contract. Feel free to read it over first."

Rose quickly read over the papers, finding nothing objectionable in them. "You won’t be requiring anything other...services?"

"You mean a few turns on the ‘casting couch’?"

Rose nodded, looking him straight in the eye. She wanted the part, but she wasn’t willing to sleep with him to get it.

"No, Mrs. Dawson. I can assure you, I do not choose actresses for their skill in the bedroom. Such things are not to my...interest."

Rose nodded, suddenly remembering a rumor she had heard about Hinesdale--that he might prefer men to women. The thought was oddly comforting. At least she could be sure he wouldn’t demand more of her than she was willing to give. That is, if it was true.

Shrugging to herself, she decided that it didn’t matter. Whether he preferred men or simply didn’t use the casting couch as a way of choosing actresses, he wasn’t likely to bother her. Reaching for a pen in the holder on the desk, she quickly signed the contract. "You have yourself an actress, Mr. Hinesdale." She pushed the signed papers back across the desk.

He nodded. "Wonderful, Mrs. Dawson. You will receive further instructions in the mail." When Rose’s eyes involuntarily sought the clock on the wall, he added, "You may go now."

"Thank you, sir."

Rose practically skipped out of the warehouse. It was her first big role. In the months since she had come to California, she had sometimes despaired of ever getting anywhere in her chosen career. Of course, she had quickly learned that many would-be stars never had any success, but she wanted to be one of those who was successful. She had been extraordinarily lucky, she realized, as she set off down the darkened streets towards home. In just a few short months, she had gotten to a point that many people never reached, even after many years of work.

Hugging herself excitedly, Rose hurried on her way, eager to share her good news with her friends and neighbors.

Chapter Sixteen
Stories