Rose's Story Read online

  Rose put the shirtwaist on over her corset. It was simple, but ruffles and bows might be too fancy for a one-room school. She couldn’t imagine what the William McKinley School would be like, with all different grades jammed in together. Would she have anyone to play with at recess, or would she be all alone again, off on the side and pretending not to mind?

  Rose swallowed the big lump in her throat. Her fingers felt stiff with fear as she maneuvered the little pearl buttons on her dress through the holes.

  Cape Light is my chance for a fresh start, Rose thought as she went down the stairs, her hand trailing along the mahogany banister. Please, God, maybe Momma has learned her lesson. Please let her do nothing here but be charming. It’s her chance to start fresh, too. I so want to honor my mother, the way Your commandment says, and not be ashamed of her.

  “Good morning, Poppa.” The downstairs of the house was still cluttered with boxes and packing supplies; she had to pick her way around them in the dining room.

  “Good morning, Rose.” Poppa was in shirtsleeves; his salt-and-pepper mustache and beard looked un-combed. He was pushing a wooden crate down the hall. “All ready for school?”

  “Yes, except for my shoes.” Rose wondered if Momma had found them yet. She raised the lid of one of the boxes. Oh no! It was filled with pamphlets—suffragette literature!

  “I thought she’d left all that behind! She can’t pass this out in a new town!” Rose’s eyes were wide with horror. “Please tell me she won’t.”

  Poppa only shrugged.

  A rush of anger left two bright spots in her cheeks. “Poppa, why aren’t you upset? All the gossip about Momma made you give up your practice!”

  “It might be a blessing, Rose. I’m truly needed here. The nearest doctor is over in Cranberry and, especially now, with scarlet fever spreading up and down the coast…” He smiled. “Of course, I might be paid in fish instead of cash.”

  “Momma!” Rose called.

  Momma appeared in the doorway. “I haven’t found the shoe crate yet, I’m still looking.”

  “What is this—this literature doing here? Tell me this was sent along by accident!” Rose waved a pamphlet in her hand. “We were all going to make a fresh start, weren’t we?”

  “Rose, it’s such a wonderful opportunity,” Momma said. “The movement needs grassroots demonstrations in places exactly like Cape Light. Every year the amendment is defeated by Congress and we have to show the politicians that women will fight for it, women in small towns just like this.” Momma smiled. “You know, I think I wound up here in Cape Light for a purpose: to spread the message.”

  “Please, Momma. You can’t!”

  Momma’s eyes flashed. “I most certainly can!”

  What was she going to do about Momma? It was starting all over again….

  two

  “Class, this is Rose Forbes,” Miss Cotter, the teacher, announced. “I hope you’ll make her feel welcome.”

  At the front of the room, Rose tried to smile. So many eyes were staring at her! There had to be close to sixty children, boys and girls of all ages and sizes. Some were smiling back at her, and others looked her over curiously.

  “Joanna, please show Rose around and tell her where everything is. See me later, Rose, and we’ll check where you belong in arithmetic and spelling.” Miss Cotter sighed and tucked a few stray brown hairs back into her bun. She seemed a bit harried, but nice enough. She wore a white apron pinned to her black dress; Rose supposed that was to keep the chalk off her clothing. The assistant teacher, Miss Harding, was younger but she had a sour old-maid look.

  Joanna jumped up from her desk and walked Rose around the crowded room. Her buckteeth made her look like an over-eager rabbit. Through her confusion, Rose tried to take in everything that Joanna pointed out. “The cubbyholes…and over there for coats and boots…that’s the sewing table and…” Joanna drew Rose to the back window. “See over there? That’s the outhouse.”

  Rose swallowed hard as she looked at the small wooden structure. An outhouse! Like in the slums of the lower east side of Manhattan! Did Poppa know about this? He’d had their house remodeled for indoor plumbing before they moved in. Miss Dalyrumple’s and the apartment on Gramercy Park had had indoor bathrooms for ages!

  “The boys will tell you there’s snakes in there, but they’re lying so don’t believe them,” Joanna went on. “Now if you need more ink in your inkwell…in this cabinet…”

  Joanna led her around the classroom. Rose couldn’t make sense of the way the students were grouped. A girl with long, tangled red hair was working with crayons at a table with the littlest children—and she had to be around Rose’s age!

  Joanna followed her glance. “Oh, that’s Kat Williams. She’s awfully good at drawing, so she teaches the art projects.” Joanna lowered her voice. “Kat’s a daredevil and is always getting in trouble. Last fall, she stowed away on a fishing boat. It sank and they all had to be rescued!”

  The redhead had a big smile for the little children. She looked cheerful and not especially troublesome to Rose.

  “You moved into old Mr. Reynolds’s house on Lighthouse Lane yesterday afternoon, didn’t you?” Joanna said.

  “Yes. How do you know that?” Rose asked.

  “Oh, everybody’s heard all about you. Your father’s a doctor and you came from New York City and your mother’s sister is Mrs. Clayton from Clayton Stables.” Joanna stopped for a breath.

  “That’s my aunt Norma.” A shiver ran through Rose. Cape Light was a small town where everyone knew all about everyone else! What if someone found out about Momma’s arrest?

  “Anyway, Kat lives on Lighthouse Lane, too,” Joanna continued. “She lives in the lighthouse all the way at the very end at Durham Point.”

  “In the lighthouse?” Rose asked.

  “Well, in the cottage right next to it. Her father’s the lighthouse keeper. See that dark-haired boy over there?”

  Rose followed Joanna’s gesture to a thin, shabbily dressed boy.

  “That’s Robert. Watch out for him, he’s mean. He likes to dip girls’ braids into the inkwells. Some people say you have to forgive him ’cause his pa was lost when the Silver Gull sank last year. Over there, two seats away, that’s Grace—she’s my best friend. Did you meet Amanda Morgan yet?”

  “No,” Rose said. Joanna was pointing at a very pretty girl with light brown hair across the room.

  “Oh, I thought you might have, because Amanda lives right across from you on Lighthouse Lane, on the ocean side. She’s the minister’s daughter. Amanda’s nice, but she can never play or do anything because she has to take care of her little sister—that’s Hannah at the spelling table, she’s six—’cause their mother died when Hannah was born.” Joanna talked very fast and spit a little as she spoke. Rose was careful to stay out of range. “Amanda is pals with Kat and that’s odd ’cause they’re nothing alike. So…I guess I’ve showed you everything.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Let’s go sit at my desk.”

  They crossed the room and Rose thought, I could have worn almost anything today and still fit in. One girl wore a threadbare dress. Its flowered print was faded colorless from too many washings. Kat, the redhead, wore a simple brown calico dress and pinafore. And then there was a blond girl flouncing over to the cabinet, her pink silk dress looking as elegant as anything you’d see at Miss Dalyrumple’s, with deep ruffles at the hem and at the end of the sleeves. The bodice had embroidery in a darker pink and her high-button suede shoes matched exactly.

  “That blond girl you’re looking at? That’s Lizabeth Merchant,” Joanna said. “Lizabeth is Kat’s cousin. Did you see the big, fancy white house on Lighthouse Lane right near the village green—the one with the front porch and the arches and the rose trellis?”

  Rose shook her head. “I haven’t been here long enough to see anything.”

  “Well, that’s Lizabeth’s house. Her father runs the bank and all, but honestly, Lizabeth thinks
she’s royalty!” Joanna wrinkled her nose. “She thinks far too much of herself, if you ask me.”

  Joanna prattled on and on, about Gwendolyn, and about Mark, the blacksmith’s son. She’s friendly, Rose thought, but she’s an awful gossip—and that’s dangerous! If she ever learned about Momma…Rose wanted a friend badly, but she decided to steer clear of Joanna.

  Miss Cotter noticed that Joanna was still talking and said, “That’s quite enough, Joanna. Get started on your reader. And Rose, please come here.”

  Miss Cotter checked Rose’s reading, spelling, and arithmetic. Rose was well ahead of her age group in reading and spelling, but a little behind in arithmetic. That surprised her. She’d thought Miss Dalyrumple’s students would be ahead in everything. While Miss Cotter talked about catching up, Rose looked around the class for girls her age. Would anyone but Joanna talk to her? Maybe she could manage to gather her courage and approach someone at recess…maybe Amanda Morgan, since she lived across the street.

  But Rose didn’t have to gather her courage at all. When they were released by Miss Cotter’s bell, Kat, Amanda, and Lizabeth rushed over to her in the school-yard, with Kat in the lead.

  Kat had a big, brilliant smile. “I couldn’t wait to talk to you! I’ve always wanted to meet someone from New York City!”

  “Kat wants to be an artist in a big city,” Amanda explained.

  “Someday,” Kat said, “though I love Cape Light. But I’m dying to know what it’s like to live in New York. What were your very favorite things?”

  Kat bubbled over with high spirits—no shy pauses in her conversation!

  Rose took a minute to gather her thoughts. “Well, I liked seeing vaudeville,” she said, “especially at Proctor’s. It had the biggest stars. Weber and Fields, Eva Tanguay, and the Three Keatons.”

  “Go on,” Kat prompted.

  “I saw Harry Houdini escape from a straitjacket once. Even my father couldn’t figure out how he did it.”

  Kat looked so interested that Rose was encouraged to continue. “And Coney Island is exciting. Luna Park has Ferris wheels and roller coasters and millions of electric lightbulbs that make you think a summer night has turned into daytime!”

  “I’ll see that someday.” Kat’s eyes were shining. “What else?”

  “I like Central Park. It has bridle paths and…I take riding lessons and—”

  “Is the park big enough to ride in?” Amanda looked puzzled.

  “Central Park is huge. Over eight hundred acres. With a lake where you can go rowing and even a meadow where sheep graze.”

  “Sheep? You mean there’s a farm in the middle of the park?” Lizabeth asked.

  “No, they’re just for show. For atmosphere,” Rose said. “What about Cape Light? What does everyone do here?”

  “I guess it’s kind of sleepy compared to New York City,” Kat said. “I like outdoor things best. I love skating in the winter when the pond freezes over. And I go clamming, and there’s a waterhole we swim in, though the water is always cold. We can’t go into the ocean. There’s an undertow and the shoreline is all rocks.”

  “Sometimes there are hayrides and that’s so much fun,” Amanda said. “And last year we had a barn dance. That was after the barn raising when lightning hit the Hallorans’.”

  Nearby, some of the boys were playing snap the whip. At the other end of the yard, girls were lined up to jump rope. Kat, Lizabeth, and Amanda seemed content to spend recess talking to her, Rose thought, and talking with them came easily.

  Her happiness was spoiled a little when Lizabeth said, “I can’t wait to see how you’re redecorating Mr. Reynolds’s old house.”

  “Well…we’re not anywhere near settled in yet,” Rose said. She’d never bring anyone home again! There was no telling what Momma might be up to! “It…it might take us quite a while.”

  Amanda nodded sympathetically. She was easily the prettiest girl at William McKinley, Rose thought, not dramatic like Momma with her striking coloring, but in a quiet way, with light brown hair and long-lashed hazel eyes. Rose liked her soft-spoken manner.

  Miss Cotter rang the bell marking the end of recess. On the way back inside, Rose fought against her shyness and asked Amanda, “Want to walk home together after school? Since we live right across the lane from each other?”

  “I would, any other day.” Amanda gave a sweet smile. “But my little sister is playing at Mary Margaret’s after school, so I’m free to go to the lighthouse today.”

  “Oh.” Rose scrunched her shoulders together.

  She caught Amanda’s quick glance at Kat and Kat’s nod.

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Amanda said.

  “Lizabeth is coming over, too,” Kat said. “The lighthouse tower is our special place. Well, you’ll see.”

  “Thank you, but…I don’t know,” Rose said. She had been planning to stop at home after school just long enough to pick up her riding hat and boots and then go straight to Uncle Ned’s stables. She had so looked forward to that! She couldn’t wait one more day…or could she? “I don’t think I…that’s so nice of you.”

  Lizabeth grinned. “We’re not being nice. We’re just thrilled to see a new face in town. We get quite bored with each other.”

  “No, we don’t!” Amanda protested.

  “Girls, stop dallying!” Miss Cotter called. “Back to class!”

  “Immediately!” Miss Harding added.

  “Come over, Rose,” Kat said as they scurried back into the schoolroom. “Well, unless you have something important to do.”

  “All right,” Rose said breathlessly. “Thank you!” It wasn’t as though Summer Glory was still there, whinnying for her at the gate. She could manage to wait one more day to see the horses because, after the long spell of loneliness, she had three new friends!

  three

  Rose, Kat, Lizabeth, and Amanda walked from school along William McKinley Road. Once in a while, Kat darted ahead as though she couldn’t contain her energy and then doubled back, her belted books swinging in wide arcs.

  They turned right at Lighthouse Lane. “My house is the other way, where the lane is civilized and paved,” Lizabeth told Rose, waving her arm toward the village green. They had reached the section of Lighthouse Lane where it became a rocky road and curved toward the ocean.

  They passed Rose’s house and Lizabeth admired the twin gas-lamps out front. Amanda’s cottage across the street was nestled among tall trees and overlooked the shore.

  “The lighthouse isn’t that far from here,” Kat told Rose.

  “Yes it is,” Lizabeth said. “It’s half a mile. If Lighthouse Lane was paved all the way, we could ride our bicycles.”

  “Do you all have bicycles?” Rose asked.

  “I don’t yet. I’m saving for one,” Kat said.

  “In the city, there are trolleys and horse-drawn carriages you can hail,” Rose said. “I guess I’ll need a bicycle here.”

  “We still walk mostly everywhere,” Amanda said. “Nothing is that far away. Lighthouse Lane is the longest road. It goes from one end of Cape Light to the other.”

  Farther from the village green, the houses became smaller. Fish netting was spread to dry along the width of one front porch. Rose noticed whalebone decorations on some of the lawns.

  They came to the long, steep hill where Lighthouse Lane led down to the shore. Here the lane was lined by beach plum and sea grass. They passed Wharf Way, the busy docks, the bait-and-tackle shed, and Alveria & Sons Boatyard.

  I can’t believe I’m going to live in a fishing village, Rose thought. Along with the smell of fish, Rose was picking up a clean, salty scent. Yellow buds of forsythia poked out on branches among the brush.

  In the distance, Rose saw the lighthouse tower rising high above its surroundings. The glass windows at the top glistened in the sun. She had the strangest feeling that it was beckoning to her.

  They arrived at Kat’s cottage. Rose was surprised by how humble it was. It had a rough stone floo
r and one big room that served as the kitchen, dining room, and living room. The girls, Kat’s two younger brothers, Todd and James, and a big white dog named Sunshine crowded together in a noisy group. Mrs. Williams was the quiet center of it all.

  There was something so welcoming about Kat’s mother. It wasn’t only the way she said, “I hope you’ll love Cape Light, Rose.” It was the warmth of her smile, the crinkles around her kind blue eyes, and the way she lightly touched Rose’s shoulder.

  Mrs. Williams served oatmeal cookies, still warm from the oven. Her work-worn hands looked strong and competent. “This has to be a big change from New York City,” she said. “No one even locks their doors in Cape Light. I was just reading in yesterday’s newspaper about all the turmoil going on in Manhattan. There was a convention of those women agitating for the vote—”

  “Suffragettes,” Kat put in.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Williams continued, “and there was a near riot.” She looked at Rose. “Had you heard much about that?”

  “I haven’t kept up with the news,” Rose said. That was true, but she had an awful feeling, as though she were lying.

  “Women shouldn’t be concerned with politics; that goes against the natural order of things,” Mrs. Williams said. “It’s quite enough that Mr. Williams’s vote represents his family.”

  The few boys Rose knew didn’t seem any wiser or more capable of choosing a president than she was. But maybe it was different when they were grown up.

  “And to actually demonstrate and disrupt traffic,” Mrs. Williams went on. “Well, those women are troublemakers.”

  Though Momma’s activities embarrassed Rose, she’d never thought they were truly wrong. She liked and respected Mrs. Williams. She didn’t know what to think now.

  “If I lived in Boston or New York,” Kat said, “I’d be a suffragette in a minute.”

  Mrs. Williams shook her head. “You don’t mean that.”

  “You know Kat, Aunt Jean,” Lizabeth said. “She always has to be contrary.”

  Rose was relieved when Todd changed the subject to talk about his report on Eskimos and igloos.