A/N Hi reader! So this is my first Newsie fanfic! Whooo! Well, to be honest this is my first fanfic period. And let me just admit, I am kind of nervous… ok really nervous. I've worked really hard on this story so far and I have great expectations for it. I do have a pretty demanding schedule (being a senior in high school with a dance show and a play coming up along with senior projects who wouldn't be?) I hope you all enjoy it and I am always up and open to constructive criticism. So just some facts about this story, it takes place about a year after the Newsie strike of 1899, so there will be minimal talk of the strike (but it will be mentioned) this story centers around Spot Conlon and my OC Aoife (pronounced e-fa), an Irish immigrant. This story will feature a lot of Irish language (Gaelic) and old-school Irish traditions, so if your Irish like me, you just might learn something cool. I will put the translations either in the text or at the end of the chapter in the Authors Note. So I think I've done enough rambling, onward with the story! Hope you enjoy!
Síorghrá Eternal Love
Chapter 1- A Sprit in the New World
Life was different. The world was different. Or at least this world was. America was not at all what Aoife McCarthy thought it would be, or at least it was much more different than Ireland. Instead of the dirt roads loaded with gravel and pebbles, there were stone paved roads. Buildings and shops littered the sides of the streets instead of hills of rolling green that she had learned to miss so much. She had not been as happy as she thought she would be when she gazed up upon Lady Liberty in lovely green welcoming her to America. When all the other people on the ship ran to the side of the great steam boat and shouted "There she is!" in their countries tongue, she was beginning to regret it, thinking Ireland was the only place she could belong. She had grown up there, her mother and brother were buried in its soil, but then she remembered why she left … she had to start a new life, and she was determined to do so, even if it did take a while to achieve. From the registration in Manhattan, Aoife was told she would find what she was looking for in a neighboring borough called Brooklyn. But she didn't know what exactly she was looking for. America was a new world that Aoife now had to be accustomed to living in, the many shops outlining the large roads littered with horse drawn carriages and people, vendors calling out to passer-byers hoping to make any bit of profit from their merchandise, just the amount of people was such a drastic change for her. It was overwhelming. So the first step in creating a new life was money. Money was everything, a house, rent, food, cloths. And so Aoife looked in the windows of shops looking to see if anyone would be willing to hire a 17 year old Irish lass. Aoife soon found out that finding a decent job was in fact very hard, "just as everyone back home had told me" Aoife thought to herself. It did not take her at all long to come to the conclusion that Irish immigrants were not welcome in America; and many ads for employment were accompanied by the order "NO IRISH NEED APPLY." And she looked every part Irish, from her flaming red hair, to her large green eyes, so all the shop owners and bosses knew. As Aoife thought of what she was going to do, she thought to herself that she would just find a place to sleep outside. She had done it many times before, except back home, the soft green grass acted as a pillow the ground had personally made for here, he there was no sign of grass, or even a weed for that matter. She soon found herself wandering by the Brooklyn docks, the familiar sound of the seagulls crying as they flew overhead and the smell of the ocean's mist once again made her heart ache of homesickness. The sun had begun to set, shading the sky in a beautiful golden peach hue casting beautiful sparkles on the river under the great Brooklyn Bridge. The long journey of 13 days by steamboat was enough to make her miss home, but now, she really was lost in the world, in another part of the world. Alone. All alone. Or so she thought she was.
The faint sound of scuffling feet suddenly made Aoife aware that she was not the only one of this side of the docks. Not brave enough to look behind her to see if her mind was playing tricks on her or not, Aoife started to quicken her pace turning to the right down a more populated street. Surely if someone was chasing me they wouldn't try anything with so many people around… Aoife thought to herself. As she started to quicken her pace more, she snuck a glance behind her and to her relief she saw no one try to hide from her gaze. But the look of relief on her face soon turned into one of panic as she felt a strong hand grasp around her upper arm and pulled her into an alley. As she tripped and stumbled to the hard stone ground she heard laughter coming from more than one person. She gazed up from her sprawled position on the ground, sure enough, she saw not one suspected assailant, but three. The boy who stood closest to her gazed down at her a look of might on his face and in his eyes. He had Carmel colored hair and dark brown eyes. His cloths were mangy and looked to be about a size or two smaller. His lace up boots were scuffed and worn
"Well, lookie here boys." He said his voice filling Aoife with fear. "A new gal showin up at da boarda a' Queens." The boy kneeled down to eye leer with Aoife and seemed to be studying her in a way which did not make her feel comfortable. "Neva seen you befora. I woulda' recognized a goil with pretty red hair like yours. Where a you from sweet face?" he said the last part accompanied by his hand tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, causing his friends behind him to laugh. Yanking her chin out of the boys grasp in an act of bravery Aoife shoved the boy away from her and proceeded to stand up.
"Nowhere that I'd like to tell the likes of you about." She said beginning to walk away, but the boy was not going to give up so easily. Once again he reached out and grasped her arm in his grasp spinning her around to face him and grabbing her other arm in his the same way so he was trapped in his grasp.
"Oh, well by dat red hair, thick accent and fiery quick temper- I'd say you're from an Irish country. Just like my boss, I'd bet you'd like him." He added as an afterthought. "Hey, tell me something Miss. Shamrock." The boy started moving his body closer to hers causing her to back up as far as she could before becoming trapped between the wall of the alley and the boy. He leaned in close so she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. "You just a quick tempa, or are ya as passionate as da otha Irish goils round hear." He said suggestion laced all in his tone. Anger flashing through her, Aoife began to thrash and struggle, trying to get out of this boys grasp before anything bad could happen. "I say, let's find out." He said moving his face closer to hers. Before his lips could force themselves upon hers, he suddenly let out a cry of pain and let go of her with his right arm to bring it to his neck. At first Aoife had thought a hornet with impeccable timing had shown up and decided to sting him, but that thought strayed from her mind when she heard a faint clink sound a shiny round piece of glass falling to the ground.
"I say, let's not." Another voice said. A different, stronger powerful voice said from somewhere in the shadows. The boy holding her snapped his gaze to the two other boys who put their arms up is surrender claiming they didn't do anything.
"Whoeva's there,dis ain't funny. Come out here!" the boy holding Aoife said stepping away from her, raising his fists as if ready to fight.
"Now put ya fists down Match, it makes ya look like an idiot." The new voice said as another boy stepped out of the shadows of the alley. He was shorter than the other boy, but still taller than Aoife by about 4-5 inches. He had long sandy blond hair that fell over his brow and covered his eyes, giving him a mysterious dangerous look that Aoife was intrigued by. He wore a dingy white Henley top under a blue and red checked button up shirt along with red suspenders and brow pants that stopped a bit above his anckes revealing worn out lace up boots. But something that stood out to Aoife the most was a gold tipped cane that was tucked safely in one of his belt loops and the slingshot and marble that was aied and ready to fire.
"Brooklyn." The apparent "Matches" said taking a step back. Whad a you doin ovea hear. Dis aint your turf."
"Well, it seems to me that your da ones who shouldn''t be ova hear, unless you wanna get the soakin' of your life, I suggest you get your lousy butt outa my turf."
The two boys quickly went and turned to run, but not before this boy show two more marbles hitting one of them behind the knee, and the other between the shoulder blades. As the boy that was harassing Aoife slowly turned to follow the other boys out of the alley, he turned pointing a finger at her.
"Dis isn't ovea." He said menacingly causing Aoife to contract her shoulders in and put her head down.
"Get outa here!" the boy protecting Aoife said reloading his slingshot. But as the boy turned to go he stopped to hear one last comment from Aoife's savior. "Oh and tell Blade he'll need a new spy. His old one got banged up a bit when he got caught."
Matched growing a shade darker red went to lunge, but the boy tightened the cord on the slingshot, causing the other boy to reluctantly saunteed out of the alley and jog to catch up with his buddies.
Not knowing what in the world the whole exchange between the two boys was about turfs, and spies and blades, Aoife pushed aside her thoughts and let out a breath she did not know she was holding and turned to face her rescuer who was putting his slingshot in his back pocket.
"I can't thank you enough. You've just probably saved my life. I don't know how I can repay you." She said walking towards this mysterious boy.
"Just consider it a welcome to America gift." The boy said looking up and with a flick of his head, swaying the hair out of his face revealing a similar pair of eyes Aoife never thought she would never see again.