Five Years Later - 1917

It was a long bumpy boring road, Rose had been driving for days and the scenery had yet to change. For miles all she could see were barren fields and horizons of dirt that met the sky. She had to keep wiping her goggles and stopping to clean the windshield of her Model -T Ford, dust was continually clouding them over.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop as the car gave a lurch and Rose was sent flying into the door. She stopped the car, rubbing her arm and cursing to herself as she got out to survey the damage. The pothole the tire was laying in was deep and at the bottom lay a broken bottle.

Rose cursed again, louder this time and kicked the hard rubber. The tire was not salvageable, there was a ragged hole ripped through the tread. She kneeled down and stuck her fingers into it. Standing again, she gazed at the desolation around her. "Why now?" She moaned. Fifty more miles and she would have made it to Chicago. She took her goggles off and placed them on the top of her driving cap. Back the way she came there was homestead off in the distance. Hopefully, there was a town around here somewhere where she could replace the tire.

Rose grabbed her leather satchel from the passenger seat and pulled off her cap as she began to walk, kicking dirt up in a cloud around her knees. Her mouth was dry and her face was covered with a light layer of dust by the time she reached the drive. She tried in vain to brush some of the dirt off her trousers as she read the sign on the side of the road.

Adler's Airfield - Charters & Rentals

The sign was weather beaten and almost illegible. But below it, someone had painted in red paint "Pilots Wanted." Rose stared at the sign for a long time, her expression unreadable. She began to walk towards the house at the end of the lane. It was a modest dwelling standing across from a large structure Rose believed was the hangar. The runway looked clean and well kept, and there was a biplane sitting alone awaiting takeoff. If nothing else, maybe they could help her with her car. "Here goes nothing." She mumbled to herself.

As she walked, memories of her first stop after she left the boarding house in New York came floating into her consciousness. She had taken the train to Philadelphia and although she knew she wouldn't see her mother, it was still an uncomfortable ride. A hansom cab dropped her off in front of the cemetery where her father was interred. She paid the driver to wait for her, her next train left in two hours. Although it had not changed much since the day they buried her father two years before, it dismayed her to see that someone had erected a large stone angel next to her father's headstone. Rose flinched as she realized it had been erected in memoriam of her. She stood in front of it looking down at the words written, her face a myriad of emotions.

The inscription read:

Warm summer sun shine kindly here
Warm summer wind blow softly here
Green grass above lie light, lie light
Good-night, dear Rose
Good-night

Tears welled and overflowed as she read her epitaph. The inscription was beautiful, the angel garish. It was very much out of place in a cemetery of simple headstones. The illusion that she was lying under the ground next to her father instead of lost at sea must give her mother comfort. She shook her head sadly and kneeled at her father's last resting-place. Her heart was aching as she stared at the ground, the tears dropping onto her hands in her lap. She began to pull weeds, not trusting her voice to speak. After an eternity she cleared her throat and began.

"Hi, Daddy." She whispered. "I know I've been gone a long time, I'm sorry. I wish I could explain to you why I've done what I've done. But maybe you understand," her voice trembled. "I hope you do. I'm very sorry for the pain that I've caused Mother, but if I hadn't left," Rose paused, her voice breaking, "Daddy, I might have really died. Maybe not physically, but I would have only been a shell of the person that I could be."

She looked over the angel with a critical eye. "I'm sure that horrible thing wasn't Mother's idea, I hope that brings you some small comfort. It could only have come from Caledon Hockley." She paused and looked around.

Rose could hear the birds chirping in the trees above. The leaves formed a yellow, red and orange canopy over them, letting the sun sparkle through like diamonds. The wind blew a chill wind across her face and Rose shivered. It reminded her that winter was coming soon. "I don't think you would have liked Cal much, Daddy. You were always able to see past the money to the soul within. I would hope you would have applauded my actions in the end. I know you wouldn't have approved of my methods, but it was the only situation presented to me at the time." Rose stopped her lonely monologue to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "But Jack, Daddy, I think you would have liked him. Mother might have eventually also, if the circumstances were different." Rose shrugged her shoulders knowing deep in her heart that her mother would never have grown to like Jack or the way they might have lived. "Jack showed me the stars, Daddy. He taught me how to look beyond them to the galaxies. He taught me that there was more to life than teas, parties and cotillions. He was a truly good man and I don't know if I will ever be able to love anyone with as much passion as I love Jack. He saved my life twice. I suppose even you would have admired anyone for that."

Rose stared down at the ground as the light around her began to wane. "I Daddy," her voice broke with a sob. "Daddy I came to say goodbye." She rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand, then looked up at the leaves above her. It seemed as if all she had done for the last six months was cry. "I've been so cold for so long, since the night that damn ship sank. I'm tired of the tears; I'm tired of the pain. I'm tired of trying to live through that pain." She rubbed her hands over her forearms to warm herself. A memory of Rose and her father sliding down a snow covered hill in a homemade toboggan made her smile softly. "I think I'm going to spend some time down south. Maybe go to New Orleans, I still remember all to well the Philadelphia winters." She shifted on the ground so she was sitting Indian style.

"I never forgot the holiday we took there when I was ten." She stopped again and looked towards where the cab was waiting for her. "I don't know when I'll be able to return to visit you Daddy. I'll try and come back again, I promise. I'm a much stronger person now, for knowing Jack. I loved him and I lost him in such a short period of time. But in the process, I rediscovered me." She stood up and stretched her back. "I hope you'll watch over me also. I don't know if Jack will be able to handle it." She smiled mischievously and a shadow of the old Rose shone through. The Rose that danced the night away in the third-class common room, smoking, drinking and enjoying the fact that she was young. "I have a feeling I might need all the help I can get." She brushed the dead grass off her hand-me-down dress and bent to pluck a bud from the bouquet of flowers on her memorial. She placed the bud on the top of her father's stone and laid her hand on it for the last time. Then she walked away.