Virginia Rose excerpt:
A merciless sun beat down through a cloudless sky, scorching the earth and threatening to turn it into powder. The same threat was applied to the man whom lay face down beside the road. The shade of the trees above were of little help against the rays that burned through the parched leaves and attacked him in many spots. He had lain there in the dust for hours, hoping the lack of movement would spare him a heat stroke. Although he dozed occasionally, simply from boredom, he thought more frequently than he dozed.
Of one thing he was certain, the one fact in his life was the secret that the whole world realized and shared, Bower’s Point, in the Province of Delaware was the last stop on earth. The dying seaport was bereft of life; it was the catch-all for the hopeless, the used-up, the low life people. Bower’s Point was the hand basket filled with rejects resigned to descend into hell. Those who came there, stayed there, suffered there, and died there. There was no way out and no hope for the ones trapped in Bower’s Point.
He felt a nudge and lazily opened one eye. He saw a set of toes, covered with dust and dried mud. He opened the eye wider and saw a small ankle that disappeared into the folds of a brown skirt. It intrigued him enough to move his head and open both eyes. The skirt, faded from age and wear, but clean, ended at the woman’s waist, and was topped by a yellowed white blouse, partially covered with a light brown cloak.
The woman’s tanned face had a weathered look, as if she was the spouse of a farmer. Her cheeks were dimpled and soft. Her nose was small and slightly tucked under at the tip. Her hazel brown eyes looked at him with concern. Her jet-black hair which surrounded her face fell straight and tangled at the moment, but he could see the past effects of curling above the ears and at the nape of her neck. A faded yellow scarf was tied loosely around her head.
“Are you dead?” she asked when he had looked at her for a moment.
“No, I’m not dead yet.” He moved a little, shifted his body, yawned and stretched his muscles. “I may look dead, but I was just trying to stay calm and hoping the sun wouldn’t bake me before it sets.”
“Pity,” she said. “I was rather hoping to claim your coat to keep me warm this coming winter.”
“That wasn’t very nice, Miss,” he frowned.
A tiny smile fluttered across her face. “Since you’ve known me, have I ever claimed to be nice?”
“Who are you?” he asked, still frowning. “Where did you come from? I haven’t seen you here before.”
“I’m Virginia Rose,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “I came here from Philadelphia. It’s taken me a while to get here. In fact, I just arrived. That’s why you haven’t seen me. Were you looking for me?”
He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck with a parched, wrinkled hand. “Why the bloody hell would I be looking for you?” he growled and stretched again.
“Pity,” she sighed. “It’s been like that my whole life. No one ever looks for me, but they ask about me. Who’s that? Virginia Rose who? Never heard of her.”
“Well, I wasn’t looking for Virginia Rose, I’m sorry to say. You do look like you were a fine young woman, once.”
She raised her brows. “I beg your pardon?” she spoke curtly. “You told me I wasn’t very nice, wishing to keep warm this winter. Now look at you. You’ve become intimate with me and you insult my looks. You have a lot of nerve, sir!”
His frown deepened. “I’ve not become intimate with you,” he informed her. “I haven’t touched you at all!”
“Pity. “That’s in line with no one looking for me. It’s depressing you know. I mean you know my name, and where I’m from. Then you tell me I’m old and not pretty anymore. You should look at yourself. I think you are older than dirt and I’ll bet you your coat that I’m younger than you.”
She sat beside him. “Well?”
He suddenly laughed at her expression. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it as an insult. I meant I should have been looking for you many years ago when you were . . . Maybe I’d better think of something else to say.”
She laughed and threw her head back. “Well, since you know me, would it be possible for me to know you?”
“That’s fair enough. I’m Captain Merriweather, ex-captain of The Willow. I’m originally from London, England. Now I sit here in this last stop before hell and wait for the end of my life. If you wish to live and be a part of the world, Virginia, my advice is to move on. Move anywhere except to Bower’s Point.”
She smiled. “Thanks Captain. Do people call you that?”
He nodded. “My first name is Nathan.”
“I’ll call you that then. She crossed her legs and spread out her skirt.
“I’m hungry. Can you feed me?”
“Are you crazy? I have a bloody hard enough time just keeping myself alive.”
“No, I’m not crazy. I simply asked if you could feed me. I take your answer to mean no. You’re a hard man. You should be glad I’m not your mother. I’d take a switch to you if you were my son. I’d not be sparing the rod on such an unruly person.”
“I’m bloody happy I’m not your son! What is the point of this? Why didn’t you keep going? Why did you stop to bother my sleep?”
“Why were you sleeping anyway?” she asked. Inwardly she enjoyed the distress her presence created. She admired his self-control.
“Because there’s no work today. The nets have all gone out on the boats and I went for a walk. If I bloody want to sleep, then I will, whether you like it or not!”
She reached into her skirt pocket, took out two apples and handed one to him. “It never hurts to ask,” she said. “If I hadn’t asked you, I wouldn’t have known your name. You learn by asking and listening to what’s said. I do hope you won’t be this way forever. You will only make life more difficult for yourself.”
He looked at the apple and then her. He thought to himself, This is strange. What’s she looking for? She can’t be interested in me. She looks like she comes from a rich family. Watch yourself and your pockets, Nathan. She’ll knock you in the head when you’re not looking. When you wake, your coat, pants and money will be gone.
“I know I could have walked on,” she said. “I also could have taken a rock and done you in. Then I would have your coat, shirt, pants and shoes. However that isn’t me.”
She took a bite from her apple and chewed slowly. “I married when I was 13 and my mama said it was high time for me. I’ve lived alone for many years since my husband decided he had to go west and seek his fortune. He found his death and a grave somewhere there. True, as you said, I’m not the young woman I was when I was seventeen. Right now I’m twenty and I’m worried about the future and what is going to happen to me. I’m lonely, but I’m not the kind of woman who can hang out in the bars and earn my money that way. That isn’t a life; that’s a living death.
“Five years I’ve been alone. I’ve wandered from Philadelphia to here. Why did I stop to talk to you? I don’t know. You didn’t seem to be an unkind person, lying there sleeping. I still think you’re a nice person even though you try to be as mean as a baited bear now that I woke you up. So don’t pretend to be bitter with me or with life.”
“Agreed,” he said. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why did you choose me?”
“I don’t really know. I just decided to stop. I have no particular reason. I’m a hard woman. You have to be to live in this world. If I were simply a little fluff, like some women are, I’d probably be dead by now, trying to live on my own. It’s not easy. However, now that you’re awake and alive, I find that I like you. I hope you like me a little. Do you?”