‘Here’s my Rose

     It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got paler.
     “It was dark in the streets, the lamps already on. I hadn’t realized how late it was.” She continued to
whisper almost inaudibly. “It was cold, too. Very cold for late April. The wedding was only a week away, and
I was worrying about the weather as I hurried home — I can remember that clearly. I remember every detail
about that night. I clung to it so hard . . . in the beginning. I thought of nothing else. And so I remember this,
when so many pleasant memories have faded away completely. . . .”
     She sighed, and began whispering again. “Yes, I was worrying about the weather. . . . I didn’t want to
have to move the wedding indoors. . . .
     “I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. A cluster of men under a broken streetlamp,
laughing too loud. Drunk. I wished I’d called my father to escort me home, but the way was so short, it
seemed silly. And then he called my name.
     “‘Rose!’ he yelled, and the others laughed stupidly.
     “I hadn’t realized the drunks were so well dressed. It was Royce and some of his friends, sons of other
rich men.
     “‘Here’s my Rose!’ Royce shouted, laughing with them, sounding just as stupid. ‘You’re late. We’re cold,
you’ve kept us waiting so long.’”
     “I’d never seen him drink before. A toast, now and then, at a party. He’d told me he didn’t like
champagne. I hadn’t realized that he preferred something much stronger.
     “He had a new friend — the friend of a friend, come up from Atlanta.
     “‘What did I tell you, John,’ Royce crowed, grabbing my arm and pullingme closer. ‘Isn’t she lovelier
than all your Georgia peaches?’
     “The man named John was dark-haired and suntanned. He looked me over like I was a horse he was
buying.
     “‘It’s hard to tell,’ he drawled slowly. ‘She’s all covered up.’
     “They laughed, Royce like the rest.
     “Suddenly, Royce ripped my jacket from my shoulders — it was a gift from him — popping the brass
buttons off. They scattered all over the street.
     “‘Show him what you look like, Rose!’ He laughed again and then he tore my hat out of my hair. The pins
wrenched my hair from the roots, and I cried out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that — the sound of my pain.
. . .”
     Rosalie looked at me suddenly, as if she’d forgotten I was there. I was sure my face was as white as hers.
Unless it was green.
     “I won’t make you listen to the rest,” she said quietly. “They left me in the street, still laughing as they
stumbled away. They thought I was dead. They were teasing Royce that he would have to find a new bride.
He laughed and said he’d have to learn some patience first.