Mermaids in the East River
Chapter 1
David Jacobs was a scholar, a scientist, a philosopher. He believed in what he could see and study. He believed that there were rules to the world—things went down and not up, for example. And there was no such thing as magic and fairies and strange things like that. He was highly skeptical of the stories the newsies told about shadowy figures half-seen in Union Square Park at midnight, or luminously beautiful women who swam in the East River under the full moon. He thought that Whistler Connolly was downright insane.
"A little one, y'say? 'Bout the size a' my finger?" Whistler asked, crouching down.
Tumbler nodded. "It had little wings like a dragon fly," the younger boy said.
Whistler stood up and nodded. "Pixie. Definitely," he announced. "You keep clear a' the spot for a few days, and stay sharp. Pixies are trouble."
David scoffed from his position near the poker game.
"You shouldn't be telling the kids stories like that," David said, coming over. "You'll mess up their heads."
Whistler stood straighter and looked David in the eye. "I'm doin' a public service. If Tumbler saw a pixie, he saw a pixie. I'm just givin' him a little advice on dealing with it." His expression softened into an easy grin. "Hey, whaddaya say you come down to the harbour with me some evenin'? Just to see what's there."
At first, David was inclined to refuse. Yet for some reason he found himself nodding.
"T'night's the full moon," Whistler said offhand. "I'll come by a little after sundown."
"Ya gotta be careful, Davey," Racetrack warned. "Somethin' funny about that kid, Whistler. I heard nobody's ever seen 'im sleep."
Mush stood up and padded over on bare feet. "He says he never lies, and you know the kind of crazy stuff he says. Ask him how old he is sometime. He never gives a straight answer."
"I'm not scared of him," David said. "I'm taller than he is."
Racetrack yawned and made a "go ahead" gesture with his cigar. "Just keep an eye on y'self, is all. Wouldn't want Jack to hafta find another brain." He glanced out the window. The last rays of sunset were beginning to fade. "Ya betta get outside b'fore y'date comes, Mouth."