Out of the Wilderness

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, Summer 1944

The Canyon Hotel, imposing and man-made though it was, sat comfortably amidst the wilderness that was Yellowstone. The murmur of voices around him began to crescendo as his fellow travelers caught their first glimpse at what would be their home for however long they happened to be there. For Robert Rousselli it really was almost like coming home.

Memories from vacations long past played through his mind. He could still see the members of his extended family-his parents, his brothers, his aunts and uncles, his cousins-laughing as they enjoyed their time together here away from the demands, congestion, and pollution of the city. Uncle Mario's memory, especially, with his round swarthy face, perennially laughing dark eyes, and shocking head of silver-white hair, remained as clear as if he had seen him just yesterday. But that yesterday was years in the past. Back when things were different, simpler. Back when the world seemed like a kinder place.

He was a little taller than most of the men around him, well built, if not strapping, with dark eyes and darker hair that was going prematurely gray. As he carefully stepped down from the coach into the porte-cochere, Robert wished it already gone so he could breathe in the fresh air, only slightly tainted with the smell of the nearby hot springs. To him, the rotten egg smell was far superior to the coach fumes that surrounded him now. Few others could understand that the odor played like an accompaniment to a movie made up of beloved faces and cherished remembrances.

Taking his cane into his right hand, he limped slowly to a spot near the door where he could watch the unloading of his luggage from another coach, obviously used for carrying luggage and other cargo. He caught a passing bellman and asked for assistance when he spotted his dark gray, hard sided suitcases, then made his way inside.

The lobby was vast and filled with elegant opportunities to sit and see and be seen. Compared with times past, however, there was little of the frenetic populace normally found there. The war had made sure of that. Few had the money or the inclination to escape the constant barrage of news from the war front. Too much was at stake. Too many lives hung in the balance, both at home and abroad, to make it possible to live their lives frivolously. Those were dreams for the future, when those countries foolish enough to align themselves with Hitler and Hirohito were finally brought to heel and made accountable for their atrocities.

After registering at the front desk, Robert followed the bellman to his room where he generously tipped the man, and, after the door closed behind him, looked appreciatively around at his surroundings. It was an elegant room, large enough to be comfortable but without the vault-like atmosphere of some he'd stayed in. He smiled wryly. It would have been nice to have a room with its own bath but these old hotels weren't designed that way. So when the time came, he would have to find the shared bath somewhere down the hall.

He was about half way through unpacking his suitcases when there came a soft knock at the door. Grabbing his cane, he limped over and opened it to find a maid, dressed in a gray serge uniform, bearing towels and washcloths. She was young, petite, and fragile looking, with severely confined hair as dark as his own and the milky skin and blue eyes of the Irish. She smiled softly as she introduced herself as Dulcie before setting the towels on the dresser and proceeding to direct him to the nearest bathroom and then to the dining room where dinner would be served within the hour. When her eyes finally met his, he was delighted to watch a rosy blush spread across her cheeks before she stammered something meant to be brisk and professional and hurried from the room.

Dinner was quietly spent at a small table before a window with a view of the gloaming wilderness. He had brought along a book to read while awaiting his meal but found himself watching dusk fall instead as he thought of all that had brought him to this place at this time. Going to war as little more than a boy, he had come back grievously wounded and heavily decorated for valor. The public referred to him as a hero and he grimaced. It didn't sit well with him as he could think of a dozen men right off the top of his head who were more deserving. When he had healed enough from the final injury to satisfy the army doctors, he had been released from the hospital and assigned to duties away fro battles. But soon the hidden demons of war began to make themselves known. Nightmares awaited him when he slept. Losing track of time was disorienting and frightening. Loud noises had him reacting as if he were still on the battlefield. He often wondered about his sanity. Yet he was still pressured into touring the country as a war hero to build morale and sell war bonds. He felt like someone's automaton.

Then his thoughts turned to the maid, Dulcie. Average in nearly every way, she was no raving beauty yet not unattractive either. He found himself wondering about her. What had brought her here to this elegant, yet isolated hotel to work as a maid? He remembered her beautiful, shy blue eyes and wondered what it would be like to have them turn to him in want.

After dinner he eschewed the lounge and lobby where the other guests were congregating and returned to his room. Following a trip to the bath down the hall, he brushed his teeth at the room's sink and prepared for bed. It had been invitingly turned down with a couple of mints left on the pillow. After turning off the light he lay in the darkness and felt the ever present exhaustion falling over him. His last thought was whether Dulcie had been the one to leave the mints on his pillow.

After breakfast the following morning he again returned to his room, making the conscious decision to avoid the other guests for the time being. He didn't know if anyone would recognize him, especially with his being out of uniform, but he'd rather not take the risk. After months of endless public appearances he needed his anonymity.

The bed remained unmade and he considered for a moment of undressing and climbing back between the covers. But no, he'd spent entirely too much time abed in the past year and relaxing on the settee in his room with his often read copy of The Maltese Falcon would be better for his overall well being.

Not long after he'd begun reading there came a soft knock at the door and a feminine voice announcing maid service.

“Just a moment!”

Setting aside his book, he rose from the settee and limped across the room to open the door. Dulcie waited patiently on the other side holding a stack of fresh linen. Her shy smile was in place when he greeted her with a warm hello.

“I'm sorry, sir. I can come back later if you like.”

“Oh no, please. Come in and don't mind me.”

Standing back, he allowed her to enter then was careful to leave the door open as he followed her inside.

Setting the linens on the dresser, she waited for him to return to the settee before she began stripping the bed.

“Have you worked here long?” he asked.

“This is my second season,” she replied.

“Do you like it here?”

She glanced at him with a smile.

“Yes, I do.”

“Where are you from?”

“Pocatello, Idaho, originally.”

“That's someplace I've never been. I'm from San Francisco myself.”

She smiled as she removed the pillows from their cases.

“I've always wanted to see San Francisco.”

“Maybe someday you will.”

She nodded.

“Maybe someday.”

He watched her pull the sheets from the mattress before asking, “Do you work every day?”

“No.”

Quietly determined to know more about her, he tried again.

“What days do you work?”

She paused and he saw her cheeks pinken before she began spreading the bottom sheet on the mattress.

“I'm sorry, sir...”

“Robert. Or Mr. Rousselli, if you must.”

“Mr. Rousselli, it is against hotel policy for staff to fraternize with guests.”

“Even on your days off?”

“They prefer we not.”

“That doesn't seem right. Seems to me that what you do on your own time should be none of their business.”

She remained silent as she tucked the sheet under the mattress.

“What do you like to do with your free time? I imagine in two seasons you've pretty much seen the entire park.”

Again she paused then smiled as she took the second sheet from atop the dresser.

“No, not hardly. Yellowstone is a vast place. I believe it would take many seasons to see just a portion of it.”

“What would you suggest in this area?”

“The falls are a sight to see. I like to go to Artist Point sometimes and look off at them and the river below. The hotel offers tours, if you're interested.”

He'd seen the falls many times during visits in the past but he decided not to divulge that fact.

“Is it true that if I were to walk all the way around the hotel I would have walked an entire mile?”

“So we are told.”

“Have you walked it?”

She nodded, “Yes, several times. It is especially nice to do so in the early morning before things get active.”

He smiled ruefully.

“Unfortunately it isn't something I can easily do at the moment.”

“The concierge can recommend alternative activities suitable to anyone needing special consideration.”

“I'll have to investigate the possibilities.” He watched as she replaced the blanket then asked the question most on his mind. “Is your husband off at war?”

“I am not married.”

He smiled, pleased with her answer.

“I find that surprising. Are the men blind in Pocatello?”

Again, she blushed.

“I don't believe so.”

“Then they must be less than observant.”

She remained silent as she arranged the bedspread over the blanket then reached for the pillows and slid them into the fresh cases.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Will you get into trouble if I am here to converse with you?”

“You are the guest, Mr. Rousselli. You may do whatever you like.”

He smiled as she gathered up the dirty linens.

“Then I will look forward to seeing you in the morning.”

With a last shy smile in return, she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Later that morning, Robert emerged from his room and made his way to the magnificent lounge. There he took a seat at a writing table where, using the stationery provided by the hotel, he penned short messages to buddies still overseas, sealing them within envelopes with post cards he had purchased at Mammoth Hot Springs on the way into the park. After dropping them off for mailing, he visited the concierge desk to ask about activities recommended for those with mobility issues since everything he had done in the past had been done without difficulty. The rest of the day was spent becoming reacquainted with the hotel and taking advantage of some of the personal services it had to offer. He visited the gift shop to purchase needed sundries, had lunch at the sumptuous buffet, and watched a game of billiards. But he avoided the bowling alley for fear the sounds of the crashing balls would incite a return of the overwhelming memories of the war front. After dinner he returned to his room to find, once again, the bed turned down. And three mints left on his pillow rather than the usual two. A small thing, perhaps, but he was still encouraged and he fell asleep smiling.

~

For the next two mornings he was there to greet Dulcie when she arrived to tidy his room and managed to engage her in innocuous conversation designed to become better acquainted while keeping her safe from any supervisory objections. On the third morning, however, another woman, graying and aloof, appeared. When asked, she explained that it was Dulcie's day off, so to avoid showing undue attention to the younger maid, he made casual conversation with her until she finished and left. Immediately, he set the book he'd only pretended to read aside and followed her out the door. He spent the day wandering casually about the hotel and its grounds, all the while hoping to catch Dulcie enjoying her day off. When he returned to his room that night, the bed was once again turned down but only two mints lay atop the pillow.

Two mornings later she finally returned, her shy smile brightening with the sparkle in her lovely eyes when he opened the door to his room. With no less care for her duties she nonetheless seemed much more willing, even eager, to talk, but was careful to couch her descriptions of her days off as recommendations for places to visit and things to see in the areas surrounding the hotel. When she finished she bade him good day with a regretful smile that mirrored how he was feeling. That night there were once again three mints on his pillow.

The morning before her next day off she made a point of letting him know that she would be taking a day tour of the lower half of the park the next morning as a passenger on one of the tour coaches. Their eyes met and they smiled conspiratorially at one another when she left. He then went immediately to the concierge desk and made his arrangements for the very same tour.

After breakfast at dawn, Robert made his way to the porte-cochere and onto the waiting coach, where he found Dulcie already seated. With her shy smile belied by her sparkling blue eyes, she invited him to sit beside her. It was the first time he'd seen her wearing something other than her gray maid's uniform with her hair pulled severely back, and he found himself wondering how he could ever have considered her merely average. In her blue dress with its crochet collar and with her hair down, she was unaccountably lovely, and as the coach left the hotel behind he was assailed by the light scent of her perfume and the warmth of her arm where it brushed his.

Free at last they were able to talk openly and get to know one another as they hadn't been able to before. He learned that with the death of her mother, with whom she had been very close, she found herself alone in the world and had decided working during the summer in the National Park would provide a good start to a new life. She would return to Pocatello in the winter, where she lived in the home left to her by her mother and work in the cafeteria of a local school. She learned that his family owned shipping and import businesses, which he planned to return to once his obligations to the military had been met. Obligations that he glossed over as he preferred to maintain his anonymity for the time being.

The coach stopped several times so they could view intriguing thermal features and beautiful water falls before arriving at the Old Faithful Inn. There they purchased box lunches to eat while they awaited the eruption of the famous geyser. By the time the tour resumed he was holding her hand.

Dinner was at the stately Lake Yellowstone Hotel where they dined by candlelight on fresh trout and listened to a string quartet playing in the lobby nearby. By the time they arrived back at the Canyon Hotel, it was well past dark and she was dozing against his shoulder. It was all he could do not to put his arm around her and hold her close. Instead, he had to content himself with his arm resting alongside hers as he continued to hold her small hand in his.

The following day was another day off for Dulcie and they shared a lunch during visits to the upper and lower falls of the Yellowstone River and a stop at Artist Point. Just before they returned to the hotel, they found themselves briefly alone and he kissed her for the first time.

Robert had planned to spend a week at the hotel then decided to stay one more. In the ensuing days he and Dulcie continued their brief visits when she made up his room each morning and spent time together on her days off.

Then, one morning, Dulcie entered his room to find him still dressed for bed and staring fixedly with a shattered expression at the wall. Alarmed, she dropped her linens on the dresser and rushed to his side where she repeatedly called his name. When she touched him he instantly reacted by flinging out his arm and knocking her away, his breath coming harshly as he cried out in horror. Then, just as she was on the brink of calling for help, she saw reason slowly return to his eyes and watched as the tension left his body until he was sagging in exhaustion where he sat. When he became aware of her presence, his face grew anguished as he read the shock in her eyes and he turned away in shame. But instead of leaving, Dulcie quietly closed the door until only a few inches remained open and, disregarding what others might think, she sat beside him with her arms about his shoulders as shudders racked his body and tears ran down his cheeks.

Eventually he pulled away, and told her, without meeting her gaze, that she needed to get on with her work before she was missed. Reluctantly she stood and, after a gentle touch to his cheek, left the room. Hours later he had recovered enough to go in search of a late breakfast while she returned to make up his room, only now realizing that he carried, well hidden, profound emotional scars from his time overseas. Her heart ached for him as she wondered what she could do to bring him comfort. When he returned from dinner that night, the bed was turned down and the three mints were on his pillow, along with a delicate lace-edged hankie lightly scented with her perfume.

The next morning was his last and, as usual, he was waiting when she arrived. There were a few awkward moments before he quietly apologized for striking her the day before and begged her to understand he would never intentionally hurt her.

“I know,” she assured him softly with a tender smile, “I only wish I knew what I can do when these things happen.”

Robert grimaced and shrugged.

“There's really not much that can be done. It's just something I'll have to deal with and hope that it will finally go away on its own.” Taking the stack of linens from her, he placed them on the dresser then took her hands in his. “This is my last day here. I have to return to my duties tomorrow.” He gently laced her fingers with his. “Tonight, after you get off, will you have a late dinner with me?”

Meeting his gaze, she slowly nodded and he reluctantly released her before taking his seat on the settee, just as he had every morning, and quietly watched her as she performed her duties. Before leaving with her arms full of dirty linens, she turned back and blew him a gentle kiss. She was rewarded with a smile in return.

Dulcie wore her one special dress to dinner that night. Most of the dinner crowd had long since dispersed and they were seated at a table tucked away in a corner beside the window. Simple in style, the dress' fluid white fabric glowed softly in the light of the candle between them and her hair, left down, was held up on one side with her grandmother's ivory comb. Robert didn't think he'd ever seen a lovelier woman.

After giving their orders to the waiter, Robert took her hands in his across the table.

“I need to tell you something.”

Apprehension flashed across her face at his serious tone.

“Nothing bad,” he assured her, “It's just not something I'm really comfortable in sharing, though it's already common knowledge, I guess.”

She shook her head, “I don't understand.”

For a moment he focused on their joined hands.

“You may hear of me from time to time. When I was discharged from the hospital they said they weren't sending me back to the front. But, they didn't release me completely from the military.”

“Okay, so...?”

“So now they have me going all over the country building morale and selling war bonds.”

“And this is bad?”

“I don't like it.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't deserve it.”

When she frowned at him in confusion, he released her hands and sat back in his chair in frustration.

“They say I'm some kind of war hero because I have all these medals. They want me to glorify the war.” He grimaced and leaned forward again. “I don't mind the building of morale and all that because I believe our fight is justified. But, Dulcie, there's no glory in war. There's only death, destruction, and desperation. Now they're putting too much emphasis on me and the fact that I've killed and survived being injured.” He shook his head. “There are a lot of men out there, truly brave men, who are more deserving of the title 'hero' who go unnoticed. And a lot more of them who have died. I just happened to have been the one who caught someone's attention.”

He took her hands in his again, his expression sorrowful.

“I just want to go home.”

Tightening her hold on his hands, she assured him, “I can understand that. How much longer are they going to make you do this?”

“My enlistment is up sometime in December.”

She smiled.

“That will make a great Christmas present, to spend it at home.”

“Yeah. I'm counting the days.”

“Do you think you'll be passing through Idaho during that time?”

“I don't know. I hope so.” His voice lowered and his eyes grew intent. “I don't want to let you go.”

“Then don't. The mail is still in service and I have a telephone at home. It's not as good as being together but it's something.” She smiled shyly. “And my door is always open.”

“When does your school take its spring break?”

“Over Easter.”

“Will you come to San Francisco, then? I'd love for my family to meet you.”

“I think I'd like that.”

“Good. And every chance I get I'll come see you.” He grinned. “That's the beauty of having family connections. Flexibility.”

Her soft laugh was interrupted by the arrival of their food and they spent the rest of their meal remembering the past two weeks and making plans for the future. They lingered until the dining room started closing down then made their way to the door that led back to the employee's quarters. Looking around to make sure they were alone, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair before cupping her cheeks with his hands.

“I don't want to say good night.”

She nodded and turned a tender kiss into his palm.

“I don't either. But we both have early days tomorrow.”

His kiss was bold and demanding before it gentled and he pulled away. With a last touch of her cheek he reached behind her and opened the door.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

With a sad smile and a last lingering glance, she turned and walked away before her tears could fall.

~

Time passed. By the middle of September Dulcie was once again home in Pocatello working in the school cafeteria and Robert was zigzagging around the country doing his part to build support for the war effort. There were many letters exchanged and the occasional phone call, both easing the pain of their separation as well as increasing their desire for one another.

There was a reprieve in late October when Robert made an appearance in Idaho Falls, not far from Pocatello, and Dulcie drove up to spend the weekend with him. She booked a room in the same hotel but their love for one another was great and they spent the time in his room instead.

He was a tender lover, sensitive to fact that this would be her first time with a man and humbled that he would be that first. It was his intention to be her one and only.

Dulcie's nervousness was forgotten when he undressed and she saw the scars that cut across his body. Gently tracing them with her fingers, she blinked back tears as she realized how close she had come to never knowing him. Shuddering with emotion, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as if afraid she would lose him if she let him go and covered his face with desperate kisses. Holding her close, his murmurs of comfort soon gave way to other words and sounds as passion took them. The world beyond their room ceased to exist. There was only the two of them and this moment. Her initial pain was quickly forgotten as she gave herself fully to the man she loved.

On Sunday she returned home and the weeks that followed became even more unbearable. Their letters and intermittent phone calls were filled with heartaches and longings. Easter was too far away.

In early December, Robert was finally discharged from the Army and his family celebrated his safe return home to San Francisco with all of the boisterous love he had missed while away. Sharing similar experiences with other family members who had known the effects of war, it was understood that time would be needed for his reclamation of civilian life. The home he had inherited from Uncle Mario had been well taken care of in his absence so, with the unavoidable input of various female relatives, he was able to set up housekeeping quickly and easily. He was reintroduced to his position in the family's business affairs and it didn't take long for him to catch up with the daily managerial goings on. But always his heart remained in Pocatello.

Finally, a week before Christmas, he packed his bag and caught the train on the first leg of his journey north.

Two nights later, Dulcie was in the middle of baking cookies for the church Christmas pageant when there came a knock at her front door. Wiping her hands on her apron, she passed through the festively decorated living room, wondering who would come calling at this hour. Flipping on the porch light, she opened the door and gasped to find Robert standing there, his suitcase at his feet and his fedora and shoulders dusted with the snow that was falling from the dark sky. Before she could say a word, he removed his hat and met her tear-filled gaze with all of his love shining from his.

“Marry me,” was all he said then caught her when, with a sob of pure joy, she threw herself into his arms.

“Yes! Oh, Robert, my love, yes!”

After a passionate embrace, she gave him just enough time to pick up his suitcase before pulling him inside out of the cold. The air was redolent with the fresh fragrance of the fir tree that stood gaily decorated in one corner and the baking aromas coming from the kitchen. As he gazed down into her sparkling blue eyes, Robert felt at peace and knew that, wherever she was, he had found his home in Dulcie.