Saying Goodbye

   Doris Flowers packed her bags. It was time again for her periodic flight to England. While Doris was flattered that an English cartoon studio thought so much of her to arrange a regular loan-out from C.B.I.P., and she wanted to honor her British fans, the all-American farm girl turned cartoon star was never her happiest when she had to jump the pond. Compared to the bright, sunny climate she was used to, the climate of merry old England didn't have a lot to offer Doris. London fog seemed three times thicker to her than it did to the natives. And then there was the permanent overcast the country was known for. Doris wasn't looking forward the change in living conditions for the next month, but she wasn't going to focus on that part of things either. She knew full well how blessed she was. What it meant to have fans, and fans around the world at that. Who ever would've thought the cute little cartoon chipmunk would be such a hit with the Queen's subjects?

   Doris closed her suitcase and hoisted it toward the door. Her timing was good. Steve was coming to drive her into L.A. to catch her flight, and he'd be arriving in a few minutes. Doris took a last look around the room to make sure she hadn't missed anything. She checked herself in the mirror before shoving the luggage into the hallway. Although Doris tried to travel light, a month overseas meant a fair number of cases. A steamer trunk had been donated to Doris by Misty Carter, but that really required two large men to carry when full. Doris was so tiny that she'd probably squash herself if she tried to carry it alone.

   Doris stepped outside to wait for Steve. He'd called earlier and would be on scene soon. Doris lit a cigarette and paused to look lovingly at the lush rural surroundings which she would be absent from for a month to come. It was sunny and warm, a Technicolor hue of blue filled the sky. Doris let her eyes scan the old wooden fence which ran alongside the dirt road which passed her house and ended at the sprawling modern farmhouse where the rest of her family lived. She'd always liked this spot, and delighted in building a cozy cottage on this hilltop when her parents gave her the plot of land in celebration of her signing a studio contract. Doris leaned against one of the posts which supported the roof of her porch. A gentle breeze, nice and warm, caressed her as she took another puff of her cigarette.

   It was going to be hard to say goodbye to all of this, even if it was only for a short time. Doris had to, though. Steve's car could be heard closing in. As Steve drove into view, Doris had her attention called back inside the house when the telephone began ringing. When Steve got to the door, Doris was just finishing up the call. Doris looked a bit shaken as she returned the receiver to it's cradle. Steve stopped in the doorway, as his wife Patty stepped up behind him.

   "Is everything okay?" Steve asked. Doris turned toward a close chair. She staggered, and would have fallen to the floor if Steve hadn't rushed over to steady her. Doris seemed dazed, but she took a breath as she placed a hand on Steve's shoulder to assure him she was alright.  He helped her into the chair. Patty stood by, worried. Ed Carter stepped in behind Patty. He'd come along to help move the luggage, particularly if Doris was taking along the steamer trunk. Seeing Doris trying to get her bearings, Ed leaned in and tapped Patty on the shoulder.

   "What goes on?" Ed whispered.

   "We don't know yet," Patty whispered back, "she was like this when I came in." Doris took another deep breath and collected her thoughts.

   "I'm okay," she assured everyone, "I just got a call about Ruth Coppert. I'm sure you saw her at the studio before. She's a friend of mine. She's the one that started up that fan club for me. She was flying to England to meet me there, wanted to take some behind the scenes shots of the cartoon I'm making. She didn't make it. Her plane had engine trouble and ditched in the ocean. Everybody made it into the liferaft but her. Ruth went down with the plane." Patty crouched in front of Doris's chair.

   "I'm so sorry," she sputtered, "is there anything we can do?" Doris could barely wrap her mind around the events related to her over the telephone. She shook her head.

   "I don't know. She was so young. Her family must be devastated. I've got to call them." Doris reached for the telephone and dialed. The others stood by as Doris spoke to Ruth's mother. Doris felt partly responsible. If not for her, their daughter wouldn't have been on that plane in the first place. It wasn't a long call, but Mrs. Coppert was grateful that Doris had reached out to the family. As she hung up, Doris turned to Steve.

   "I want you to do something for me, Steve."

   "Anything."

   "Call the studio, in England. Make arrangements for me to go over there a little later than planned. There's no way I'm going to miss Ruth's funeral. I have to be there to pay my respects."

   Steve nodded. 

   It was another beautiful day as Ruth's family buried an empty casket in the family plot. Doris stood by quietly. Mr. and Mrs. Coppert thanked her for being there.

   "I couldn't stay away," Doris told them, "Ruth was so very special. I remember when I first met her. I'd never given any thought to fan clubs, but this pretty little teenager came to me and told me that she was president of a club organized to celebrate me. Little me, who never sought to be leader of a group. It meant so much to her to have me sign that stack of stills for her and the club, and then to have them invited to the set to watch me actually shoot a cartoon. I got used to seeing them there. The members came and went, but Ruth was always there. Always with that big grin on her face. It meant so much for her to be there, just to be around the set. She came to my house for dinner, she even told me about the boy she liked and I tried to give her advice on how to approach him. She really felt like a little sister to me. There was no way I was going to miss this. As much as it hurts me, I can't imagine what it's like for you. If there's anything, anything at all, that I can do for you. Please, don't hesitate to ask. Ruth has given me some of my happiest memories of being an actress. Of being a friend. It's going to be so very strange trying to go on without her always being there."

   "She spoke about you non-stop," Mr. Coppert sighed, "it really did get to the point where you seemed to be her big sister. I never thought much of actors, actually, back when she told me she was starting the fan club, but when I first met you, well, that changed my mind. I know you have a lot on your plate, and that you had to go out of your way to be here. I really can't tell you how much we appreciate it." Doris hugged both of them before turning to the car. Doris was in no shape to drive, so Yvette had come along to taxi her. Doris sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring at the floorboard. Yvette turned the key.

   "You want me to drive you home?"

   "No. I want to go somewhere else. You know that malt shop on the square?"

   "Sure."

   "That was where Ruth held her club meetings. The first thing she always did when she got there was to order a chocolate malted. Whatever she was doing, just hanging out there or conducting club business, she always had that malted in her hand. I know it's not much, but I want to order a malted in her honor."

   "Mind if I do likewise? I didn't know Ruth as well as you did, obviously, but she spent so much time at the studio that I did get to know her a little. One in a million, that girl."

   Ruth had touched many at the studio. As Doris stepped into the malt shop, she found numerous peers of hers had packed into the place to order chocolate malteds. Actors, cameramen, technicians, producers, and directors huddled together in silence. Henry Chestnut sat at a booth near the door, his wife Sugar at his side. Normally, they shared whatever they were drinking, but each had ordered a chocolate in Ruth's honor. Henry slid out of the booth and stepped forward to greet Doris and Yvette in.

   "We felt it was best to let the family handle the funeral in peace." Henry noted. "If all of us had shown up there, it would have turned into a circus when the papers got involved. Then newsreel crews, the local reporters. The story would have ended up being about us. Ruth deserved better than that. She was president of your fan club, Doris, but we all got to meet her when she was by the studio. We all liked her. We all loved her. It was meeting a sweet, star-struck kid like Ruth that made the whole business of acting seem like it's actually something important. I hope you'll forgive us for not going to the funeral, but we felt this was a better way of paying our respects."

   Doris smiled and nodded. "I think it's wonderful, Henry. C.B.I.P. is something special, and this is proof of that. I think Ruth would be honored. I'm sure she IS honored." The assembly had waited for Doris to show up before they made a toast to Ruth. They knew she wouldn't want to miss it. 

   It's easy for actors to either become self-absorbed or increasingly bored by what seems more play than work. It's the fans like Ruth that make it mean something. They keep an actor humble and remind them that what they're doing has worth to someone out there. If a fan is going through a hard time and remember something they saw on the screen and it brings a smile to their face, the players that caused that smile have done something good. It's not about people like Doris or Yvette or Henry, it's about people like Ruth. The people at the studio all knew how much they owed to Ruth, and to those like her. It was an honor to raise a glass in tribute.