Stumbling down the gangplank I looked up at the city before me, soaking in each detail. New York was bustling with people scurrying around in different directions. The buildings were tall elegant, and the streets were grimy cobblestone.
The passengers around me shouldered luggage, knapsacks, and crying babies. All I had was the clothes on my back.
Once my feet touched the ground I let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't the best timing, seeing as I was penniless, homeless, and friendless, and my family had just died before me, but I couldn't help but feel relieved to finally be here.
I walked down the street already lost amongst the different people and shops pouring out everywhere.
I was suffocating from the crowdedness and squeezed past people until I was in a less populated area. I gagged walking past several sweat shops which released clouds of dark smoke.
I ran down faster until there was an empty street for me to walk down.
My stomach growled in hunger and I tried to pretend it hasn't been two day since I've eaten. Emphasize on the word tried.
I began to stroll thoughtfully down the street trying to stay inside the patches of sunlight.
I glanced down at my outfit: brown pants that came down to my knees held up by black suspenders, a white button up shirt that was slightly large on me, a light brown cabbie hat, and around my wrist was a length of thick string wrapped several times around, and a silver band which gleamed in the sun light. I had no shoes but thankfully the weather was still nice out and I didn't have to worry quite yet.
I dressed like most boys did back at home (with the exception of the string and silver band) except I wasn't a boy.
My father, as he was dying of some unknown illness, made me promise not to let anyone know I was a girl.
"New York, isn't safe for a girl all by herself," he warned.
My three older brothers all agreed.
Shane who was only a year older than me gave me his clothes. My white dress was left behind on the ship.
Torrence, the oldest, gave me the silver metallic band and the string. The string was found in the woods near our house, he claimed that it was from the fairy folk that lived there, and it was good luck. He always wore it and I felt tears in my eyes when he tied it around my right wrist. The silver band he had made for me to wear when we first got to America but he knew he wouldn't live that long.
Peter, who was twins with Shane, gave me his hat. It was a little big on me, but it was comforting to wear. I could still smell his scent on it.
My head swam with their faces on the ship. They were all pale, and clammy, their eyes were fighting to stay open, their breath came slow and heavy.
My steps slowed down and I finally stopped.
I realized that someone was following me.
I looked to the side and pretended to look at the building beside me while taking a sideways glance behind me.
Three boys were approaching me in an unfriendly manner.
I tried to remember what Torrence told me about fighting boys.
"First thing you got to do is remain calm, don't let them see you're scared, that's what they want to see."
I worked to stand straight, and continue walking as though I was at ease. The distance between us was shrinking and I could hear them getting closer. I fought my heart trying to stop it from hammering in my chest.
Their eyes were burning holes into my back. I was ready to bolt down the street but they reached me already. A hand caught my shoulder and violently twisted me around,
"Hey, you," snarled the middle boy. I looked up at him. He had dark brown hair that was cut really short. His face was dark and his brown eyes flashed at me as though I just insulted him.
The boy to his right had midnight black hair and bright green eyes. He didn't seem so interested in killing me but he also didn't look interested in stopping the middle boy from doing so.
The boy to the left had sandy colored hair and hazel eyes. They examined me carefully as though determining the best way to take me down.
I shifted uncomfortably.
"Yes?"
"You'se know you'se trespassin' on Brooklyn territory?"
The boy's shifted closer in a menacing way and I gulped.
"I didn't know," I replied quickly.
They looked thrown off by my accent.
The middle boy gave me a calculating look and his eyes narrowed.
"You'se a new immigrant?" he asked.
I nodded my head quickly. I could here his teeth grind together and the other boys took a step closer.
"We soak new comah's round dese pahts, know why, kid?"
"Why?" I asked weakly.
"Because you rats take up all da jobs an' us kids dat lived heah ah whole lives have ta live in da streets."
"But I don't have a job—" I began but he cut me off.
"You probably came ta get one. So we'se gonna soak ya!"
An image flashed in my head of them throwing a bucket of water in my face. But I knew that "soaking" must have been much worse because they were down right deadly right now.
The two boys flanking the middle one closed in on me but I darted out of reach.
"'Ey!" called the sandy haired boy.
They made another grab, and I easily sidestepped them.
"You really can't hit, Erin," I recalled Torrence's words while dodging grabs and blows.
"I'm sorry."
"No, don't be. If you can't punch you've got to learn to dodge."
"Will you teach me?"
"Of course I'm going to teach you, no one can teach you better than me!" he grinned toothily at me and winked so that I giggled. "All right let's get started."
While in mid-flash back I felt one blow connect with my left eye. I let out a startled gasp and looked up. My pause invited in more blows: one to my jaw and one to my stomach.
Immediately I remembered to keep moving, and I dodged the next fist.
I turned around and fled down the street, trying to create a distance between me and the boys.
"Get back heah so we'se can finish soakin' ya!" The brown haired boy screamed they followed close behind.
Adrenaline fueled me to keep running. I could here their feet slapping against the cobblestone in fast pursuit.
I looked forward hopefully for escape and saw a large red bridge.
I boosted my speed and darted across followed by the boys in hot pursuit.
Frantically, I ran faster, finding a swarm of people. Immediately, I ran into the crowd trying to blend in. I could hear them pushing people over looking around for me.
I turned a corner and made a dash toward the next corner when I heard someone call out.
"Hey, what's da rush?"
I turned around while running, which was my worst mistake. I ran straight into a brick wall and crumpled down next to it.
I saw stars for a bit, but shook it off.
"Geez, dat's gotta hoit," remarked the boy jokingly, walking up to me. "You'se okay?"
I heard a commotion nearby and recognized the voice of my pursuers.
"Ow, I've got to go, they'll get me," I said hurriedly, rubbing my head tenderly.
I looked up and saw the boy who made me run into the wall had a brown leather patch strapped across his eye. His sandy colored hair was coming out form under his brown cabbie hat and came down almost to his eye.
He wore a friendly smile as he bent down to examine my head.
"Ouch, looks like you'se got yerself inta' a scrap," he said looking at me sympathetically.
I nodded absentmindedly trying to stand.
I crumpled on the first attempt and on the second I had to use the wall to support myself.
"Do ya need a hand?" the kid asked.
"No," I said trying to wave him off. The voices grew louder and I knew they were coming for me.
"No," I moaned, realizing I was doomed.
The kid in the eye patch glanced behind him and then back at me.
"Is somebody tryin' ta getcha'?"
"Yeah," I said leaning against the wall while trying to move down the street.
"Do ya want some help?" he asked.
I looked up into his face trying to read his intentions. I looked deep into his confused eyes and saw true sympathy and concern. I knew I could trust this kid.
"If you don't mind," I mumbled.
His face broke out into a grin and he wrapped my arm over his neck, so I was leaning on him. He carried me down the street and turned the corner and carried me further until we reached a worn down building that had boys lounging outside of it. I looked above them and saw a sign with chipping green paint. It read News Boys Lodging House.
The boy carried me to the front of the building and pushed past boys to get me inside. Once the door shut behind us I let out a sigh of relief.
More boys filled the inside of the building, which was quite small. They spoke noisily and shoved each other around, completely unaware of my entrance.
"Heah," my rescuer said lightly dropping me on a worn out couch.
I looked up at him appreciatively.
"Thanks," I whispered.
"Who's dis?" called a voice behind me. I twisted around and saw a black haired boy smoking on a cigar stroll over. His question caught the attention of other boys who also noticed me and drew nearer.
"I'se dunno," the eye patch boy responded, "'E was runnin' from someone an' I'se wanted ta help him a littul."
"Blink, ye break me heart when I'se hea'in' how kind you ah!" the smoking boy joked.
The boy Blink punched the other boy playfully.
"Shaddap! 'E was havin' a hawd time. An' actually it was my fault, sorta. I cawlled ta him an' he ran inta' a wall."
Some of the eavesdroppers snickered, giving me smirks. I blushed and rubbed my throbbing head, much to their amusement.
"So what's yer name?" the boys asked putting the cigar to his lips.
"Erin Collins," I said before thinking. Then I remembered Erin could also be a boy name so I was safe.
The boy looked over me carefully.
"What's yer trade, den?"
I shrugged, "I'm actually on the streets right now. I'm still looking for work."
Everyone looked a bit surprised by my accent, and I remembered what happened last time I got looks like that.
I stood up weakly with my hand still on my head.
"Actually, I should probably go now, thanks anyways," I made an attempt to walk to the door, but instead I stumbled there, getting another chorus of snickers.
"'Ey, you'se in no condition ta walk yet," the eye patch kid said. "By da way, me name's Kid Blink, though most cawl me Blink. An' dis is Racetrack, but most cawl him Race."
Racetrack removed his cigar from his lips to take a low bow.
"At your soivice!" he said playfully.
"I really can't stay," I said hesitantly.
"Why not?" Blink asked, sounding hurt.
"Because . . . because . . . I—" I didn't want to say I was scared they were going to "soak me" but I couldn't think of something else to say.
"You need woik, right?' Racetrack asked, interrupting my train of thought.
"Yes," I answered.
"Den have you eva' considered bein' a newsie?"
"A what?" I asked, confused. That was English right?
"A newsie. Ya know, like sellin' papes?"
I shook my head, "what's a 'pape'?"
The boys stared at me with their jaws dropped.
"Whaddaya mean 'what's a pape'?!" Racetrack asked horrified. "Do ya live in New York or not?"
I gulped and felt nervous.
"Um, actually, I'm not from here," I admitted painfully.
Racetrack cocked him head in confusion, then his eyes widened in understanding.
"Immigrant?"
I nodded fearfully.
"Aw, don't be schaihd, lot's a' newsies isn't from around heah," he said sympathetically.
"You never told me what a newsie is or a pape," I reminded.
"Oh, right," he said grinning, "well a pape is the paper, we'se just cawl it a pape, an' a newsie sells dem. Dat's us," he explained pointing to his chest.
I nodded my understanding.
"So I could sell papers with you?"
"Shuah!" he exclaimed smiling brightly.
I thought about it for a while. I've never sold anything before. Back in Ireland I worked on the farm and helped Mama with housework. But I needed the money.
"Okay, I'll do it," I agreed.
Blink patted my back warmly, "Great!" he cheered, "let's get ya registered!"
"Registered?" I asked nervously.
"Don't worry, we'se jus' gotta tell old man Kloppman dat you'se gonna be stayin' heah, you ain't got a home, right?"
I nodded my head shamefully.
"Don't be embarrassed, dat's why we'se awl aw heah," Blink said kindly.
We approached an old oak desk where an old man with a bowler hat sat reading a large book.
"'Ey, Kloppman!" Blink called causing the man to glance up annoyed at Blink and me.
"Blink, I'm not deaf yet, ya don't have to yell in my ear!" the man spat back with a lot more energy then I expected. "What do you want?" he demanded setting his book aside.
Blink took a step behind me grasping both my upper arms and resting his chin on my shoulder.
I hoped he couldn't hear my heart beat faster by this contact.
"Dis is a new guy, an' we'se was wonderin' if he could stay wid us?" Blink said in a pathetic voice.
"Blink, I wasn't born yesterday, I know all your tricks, so cut the act. Now let me see here . . ." Kloppman proceeded to take out a large file and look through it meticulously with a wrinkly finger. "Well, we're all out of bunks but if he was willing to share with one of the boys it's all right with me," Kloppman said finally.
I froze for a moment. I had to sleep with boys? My initial thought was absolutely no!
"He can share wid me!" Blink piped up, he looked down at me to see if I was okay with that. His smile was so bright and innocent. It was a face I just couldn't say no to.
"All right," I agreed uncomfortably. It wasn't like he knew I was a girl. It would be like two friends, it is fine.
Kloppman asked for my name and wrote it down in his file. He then wished me good luck with the boys.
"Lord knows I can barely handle them, so good luck to you," he said before picking up his book again. Blink led me upstairs to see the bunks.
We passed the bathroom which was a chaotic mess and then entered the even more disorganized bunk room. Blink led me to his bunk and sat down on it beckoning me to join him.
"So how do you like it?" he asked with a bright smile.
"It's nice," I replied, "very homey."
And it was. Despite the fact that everything was a mess it had a relaxed air to it that made you feel at ease.
"Well, why don't we'se introduce ya to da udda boys!" he said standing up excitedly.
"All right," I agreed.
We walked back down stairs and discovered more boys had come inside. It was getting late, so it wasn't too surprising.
"Blink, who's the shina'?" asked a tall boy wearing a red scarf around his neck and a black hat was on his head.
"Dis is Erin Collins," Blink introduced casually, "Erin, dis is Jack Kelly uddawise known as Cowboy!"
"Nice ta meet ya!" he said sincerely with sweet smile.
"Cowboy is da leada' of us newsies, but only in Manhattan, y'see dere's newsies in every city, an' each city has a different newsie leada'," Blink explained patiently.
I nodded and he introduced me to more people.
I met Skittery, Boots, Snipeshooter, Bumlets, Pie Eater, Mush, Specs, Tiger, and Hands. The latter two were younger looking and seemed out of place surrounded by these older boys but they proved to have fierce strength from living on the streets. Everyone's name seemed odd to me and when I told Blink this he laughed.
"Well a'course dey sound funny, dey're nicknames, y'know so da bulls don't know your real name if ya get in a fix," he explained.
My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What? Don't kids eva' get inta trouble where you'se from?" he asked. The other boys watched me carefully.
Finally I looked up at the lot.
"What's 'the bulls'?" I asked cautiously.
They all burst out into laughter. Racetrack clutched his sides and laughed so hard his cigar fell out of his mouth. Jack was fighting a smile and everyone else was simply falling over with laughter.
Finally, once Blink was back together he looked at me apologetically, "Da bulls are da police," he explained, still chuckling.
I blushed, embarrassed by my limited knowledge. I made a mental note to remember all the terms they had taught me.
Blink threw a friendly arm over my shoulder. "Isn't he great Jack?"
Jack beamed down at me, "Yeah, I'm glad you found him, Blink," he said, winking at me.
Soon the boys decided it was getting late and it was time to go to bed. I followed everyone upstairs talking with the boys.
They were all friendly and made me feel like I was part of the family.
Once we got upstairs I followed Blink to his bed. The boys began to strip their shirts and pants off. I pretended to not care and looked away.
Blink removed his shirt and looked down at me confused.
"You plannin' on sleepin' in your clothes?" he asked sarcastically.
"Yeah," I replied fighting my blush.
He shrugged and crawled up onto his bed, which was the top bunk. I followed him up.
It was uncomfortable sharing with him. I've always had a bed to myself except when I was young and had nightmares, and I shared with my brothers.
I sat next to him, mentally thanking God that the bed was wide enough for both of us. He generously shared the thin worn out blanket and fell back onto his pillow.
I was curious as to why he didn't remove his eye patch. I felt rude asking but curiosity got the better of me.
"Are you going to take off your eye patch?" I asked. He didn't look offended or hurt at all. He simply grinned up at me.
"Y'know why I wear it?" he asked slyly.
I felt my stomach do a flip, "Um, sure?"
He flicked it up lazily revealing two purple eyelids half closed over a thin black slit. I could tell there was nothing under the eye lids, just a dark hollowed out hole.
I gasped, to his amusement.
"What happened?!"
"It was an accident at a factory, someone was unscrewin' a bolt an' it flew right inta me eye. Luckily dere was someone dere dat woiked in da hospital an' he knew how to remove eyes. 'E said if it didn't come out it would get infected and make me sick an' die," he stated calmly, almost proudly. I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
"That's pretty amazing!" I complimented, "you're very brave!"
"Aw,
it was nothing," he shrugged, "an' actually between you an'
me . . ."
his voice dropped down to a whisper. "I cried like
a baby da entire time dey was takin' me eye out. Hoit like hell, it
did," he said this with a weak smile.
"I won't tell a soul," I promised.
He smiled warmly at me.
"G'night, Erin!"
"Good night," I could tell he fell asleep once I heard the light snores. I stayed awake a bit longer praying for a better tomorrow.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
In the morning I woke before anyone else. My body was used to waking up early because on the farm nobody wanted to be in the fields in the middle of the day when the sun burned the brightest. I thought I should get up but was too tired so I just lay in bed silently. I looked over at Blink. His face was still peaceful from sleeping. His hair had been moved to in front of his face so I brushed it away.
My ears twitched at the sound of approaching footsteps from the stair case. I sat up quickly to see who was coming. Kloppman entered the room quietly. His eyes met mine and he raised a finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet.
He slinked to the foot of Skittery's bed where Skittery's leg was dangling off the edge. Then to my surprise, Kloppman slapped his foot.
"Skittery! Wake up!"
Skittery bolted up and immediately blurted out, "I didn't do it!"
Kloppman rolled his eyes and passed me a quick wink before moving on to the next bunk.
"Wake up! Wake up! Carry the banner!"
Boys grouchily rose form their beds, including Blink. He stretched out and looked up at me.
"Sleep good?"
"Yeah," I answered, "thanks for sharing with me."
"Anytime," he shrugged.
I decided to climb down now to wash up. But I forgot we were on the top bunk. My fall was broken by the still half asleep Racetrack who was emerging from his bed which was right next to Blink's, on the bottom.
"'Ey! Stupid! Watch weah ya fall!" he snapped.
I scrambled up quickly.
"Sorry Race!" I said quickly.
His tired eyes glanced at me suspiciously as if making sure I didn't fall on him on purpose.
"Yeah, you should be," he mumbled, walking off the bathroom while putting on suspenders.
Blink looked down at me as if trying to hold back a laugh.
"You'se okay?" he half asked half laughed.
"Yeah, Yeah," I mumbled.
I followed Race to the bathroom and washed my face and teeth. I then went to the water closet and took off my hat. Short, shaggy, reddish brown hair came down to my jaw. Before dying, Papa cut of my long locks to further hide my identity. I still kept it tucked under my hat just in case. Once finished I walked back out and stretched.
"Ready ta sell?" Blink asked once he was ready.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
"Let's move it out, boys!" Jack called. Everyone ran out, their feet loudly banging down the stairs.
Kloppman waited at the bottom to make sure everyone was leaving.
I caught him giving me a wave and I waved back right before being pushed with the rest out the door. Blink led me to what was called the distribution center.
"Dis wheah we get papes," he explained.
He brought me up to the barred window. Inside was a large graying man, with tired eyes.
"What can I do fer you Blink and . . . Blink's friend?"
"Sixty papes!" Blink announced slapping coins on the counter. The man's large hand grabbed the coins.
"Sixty papes," he repeated over his shoulder. And a tall dark haired man wearing a bowler hat threw a stack of papers down. Blink picked it up and led me away from the window.
"Heah," he said handing me ten papers, "let's stawt you out wid ten, an see how you woik."
I took the papers delicately and looked over the headlines.
"It's a penny a pape," he informed me.
People began to walk by and Blink looked up pleased. "Follow me," he advised approaching a gaggle of women carrying baskets of food, laundry, knitting, and more.
"Man found dead in his room! You could be next! Find out how ta protect yerself!" The women peered at Blink fearfully and thrusted money at him for papers. Smiling kindly he handed them each a paper, with a tip of his hat.
I saw some young gentlemen walking down the street and walked in their general direction.
"Um, counterfeit money discovered! Suspects in court for trial!" I tried to be as loud as
Blink. The men gave me a curious glance and I continued to shout. "Biggest trial of the year in New York!"
The men finally came over and each handed me a penny. I pocketed the money and handed them papers.
"Thanks, boy," said one of the men then they quickly walked away flipping open their papers.
I then sold to a young boy outside of a grocery store followed by two young women sitting on the porch right outside an old house. My last few were sold to a group of men exiting a bank. I proudly showed my money to Blink.
"Great job, Erin!" he exclaimed, slapping a hand on my back.
"Thanks," I grinned proudly.
"How should we celebrate?" he asked.
My stomach answered before I could. I felt my face heat up.
"Sorry," I apologized, "it's been a while since I've eaten."
"Hey, we'se awl know what it's like ta stawve. Come on, I'll buy ya a meal."
"No!" I insisted, I can buy my own. I was reminded of my father's philosophy: There's no such thing a free lunch.
"Hey, it's on me," he assured. He was already leading me down the street to a restaurant. We walked into a place called "Tibby's" which was already fairly crowded by newsies. Jack was loudly talking at one table surrounded by many newsies.
Apparently he said something funny because everyone broke out into laughter. Jack looked up and our eyes met.
"Heyya Erin! Come sit ova' heah!" he beckoned.
I walked over with Blink and sat beside him.
"How was the first day?" he asked warmly.
I shrugged, "not too bad."
He smiled crookedly at me. "Good, so you're ready fo' tomorrow?"
I felt my face drop and apparently I looked funny because everyone at the table laughed.
"I'se kiddin'," Jack explained laughing.
"Oh, right," I forced a smile. Blink asked what I wanted to eat.
"Um . . ." I thought for a moment. "What do people eat in America?" I asked weakly.
Blink burst out into laughter as did the rest of the boys. Now I was getting frustrated.
"Why does everyone laugh at me?" I asked pathetically.
Jack and Blink gave me sympathetic looks.
"It's not your fault," Blink explained, "it's just we'se not used to people not knowing so much, you're like a little kid," he laughed.
I blushed and looked down.
"A little kid?" I repeated stupidly.
"No! You don't get it, you're just so innocent!" Jack chuckled throwing a friendly arm over my shoulder.
I smiled a little.
"Heah's a menu," Blink offered kindly.
I looked it over and ordered a small roll.
"Dat's awl? Just a roll?"
I raised my eye brows in confusion.
"Isn't that a lot?" I asked. That's been what I ate for dinner for the past few months (before coming to America).
"No," Jack said sternly, poking at my ribs.
"Gawd your skinny, heah, let me order fo' you," he turned to the waiter. "Get dis boy a roast beef sandwich with everything and a side of pickles an' an a glass o' root beah."
"No, Jack, I could eat that much!" I cried grabbing his arm.
He just laughed and shook me off.
"No really, you need the weight!"
A platter of food was dropped in front of me and eyes watched me carefully.
I crossed my arms over my chest.
"I will not eat all of that."
"We'll force feed ya," Blink threatened.
I gave him a startled look and he laughed.
"Just eat what ya can and we'll finish the rest," Jack assured. I gave him a thankful look and began to pick at the sandwich. They looked satisfied once I consumed half of it and stated I was full.
"Boy, you shuah don't eat a lot," Racetrack said, leaning over the table to see my left overs.
I shrugged. "You can take them," I offered.
Needing no second words the boys dug in wolfishly.
I laughed watching them.
"'Ey, we actually eat, kid, so shut yer trap," Race snapped his mouth full of roast beef.
It made me laugh harder so he stuck to glaring at me while chewing.
I realized that hanging out with these boys was really heart warming. They were my family, and I had just met them yesterday.
I wanted to tell them this thought but something told me boys didn't sit in a circle sharing their feelings.
Suddenly, a frightening crash came from behind us. Everyone turned to see a tall boy walk in.
I recognized him instantly.
It was one of the boys trying to get me yesterday: the black haired one with green eyes.
He caught my stare and returned it with a curious look, yet it wasn't hostile.
He quickly strode over to Jack. Jack's face immediately hardened.
"What do ya want Doc?" he asked in a serious tone.
The boy called Doc cocked his head side ways and gave Jack a hard look.
"You can't take a guess?" he sneered.
Jack sighed.
"I'se guessin' ol' Spot wants ta meet wid me?"
Doc smirked, "No, Jack," he said mockingly, "Spot would actually prefoi' ta speak wid one ah your new newsies," he said giving me a quick glance. Everyone looked at me then back at Doc.
Jack kept his eyes on Doc.
"An' why's dat?" he asked in a protective tone.
Doc's smirk darkened.
"Tsk. Tsk, Jack, you'se wouldn't be questioning Spot's motives now, would you?"
Jack's face paled and he grimaced. Turning to me he whispered in my ear.
"What did you do?"
"I'm not sure. I was walking around after leaving my ship and this boy and two others chased me," I explained.
Jack sighed and rubbed his forehead agitatedly.
"Well, now we'se in a fix," he finally muttered. "I'se gonna take you ta Spot," he said, but Doc interrupted.
"No you aw not, Jack," he said spitting out Jack's name, "I'se gonna escort him myself, Spot's orders," he said grasping my wrist viciously, yanking me out of my seat.
I tried to twist to see Jack.
"Keep walkin', don't look back," Doc said sternly, as if he could read my mind.
Grimacing I trudged after him, being led by my arm.
The door to the restaurant slammed behind me leaving me feel completely alone.
The boy, who I assumed was called Doc glanced at me curiously but would narrow his eyes if I returned the look.
"Listen, um, Doc, what ever I did, I'm really sorry."
I could see his lip curl a bit and he looked me full in the face.
"Listen, kid, in New Yoik dere's rules an' one a da rules is neva' trespass on different territories unless you'se got cash or you'se wanna good soakin'."
I remained silent as he waited for a response.
"Did I scahe ya?" he asked hopefully.
I gave him a serious look before responding.
"What does 'soaking' mean?"
Doc looked at me shocked and then looked straight ahead.
He fought a smile but eventually gave up and quietly chuckled.
I groaned in frustration.
"You'se don't know what soakin' is?" he asked amazed.
I rolled my eyes. "Immigrant," I reminded.
"Right," he nodded, pulling my arm less hard. "Soakin' means ta beat da livin' day light outta ya."
"Oh," was all I could manage.
He chuckled more. "Fo' your sake I'se hope Spot's gonna go easy on ya, kid."
"I'm not a kid," I replied indignantly.
He smirked and gave me look.
"Whateva'," he replied rolling his shoulders.
We had crossed over the red bridge and he began to tow me down a street leading to the docks.
"Is Spot a newsie leader?" I asked cautiously.
"Took ya dat long ta figure out?" he asked in mock surprise.
"Sorry," I shrugged.
Shaking his head in disbelief he dragged me down to the docks right across the creaking wooden boards. Boys along the edge watched me with smirks.
Ignoring them, I focused my eyes on Doc's back.
"Ya lost, littul boy?" some called. I threw a dirty look behind me and continue walking.
We came to the end of the dock which was loaded with crates. I looked around uneasily for the leader.
"Doc, I'se see you'se brought me da little urchin dat trespassed."
I looked up to the direction of the voice and saw a boy. He was on the short side, slightly tan, with dirty blonde hair coming out from under his grey cabbie hat. He wore an old, blue, checkered shirt which was unbuttoned half way down, with bright red suspenders on top. Inside a belt loop on his brown pants was a long sleek cane. It was black except for the top which was a golden knob.
I looked into the boy's face and was shocked that his blue eyes were shooting a menacing glance at me. The icy color magnified his emotions. I took a hesitant step back and bit my lip.
Smirking, the boy lithely jumped from his perch and landed right in front of me.
"Got a name, kid?" he asked while nonchalantly pulling out a sling shot and small marbles.
"Erin," I said uneasily, trying to avoid his cold glance.
"Erin," he repeated to himself, turning around and gazing up at the blue sky. Then he turned back to face me. "So Erin, tell me, what made you think you'se could cross ova' Brooklyn an' live?"
I glared up at him and made fists at my sides. This didn't miss his notice.
"Ah," he smirked, "ya wanna fight?" he pulled the slingshot back and released it so that a marble sailed past my ear hitting a glass bottle behind me.
"Maybe," I suggested without thinking. His smirk grew ten times larger.
"Yeah, well I'se not a man ta mess wid," He said his eyes daring me to contradict him.
"Well, I don't wan to mess with you. You're the one that had me dragged over in the first place," I pointed out irritably.
His eyes narrowed and he slipped out his cane. I took a hesitant step back, eying the likely weapon.
"Don't worry, I'se won't use my cane if I'se gonna hoit ya."
"Oh," I responded sullenly.
"You'se clearly an immigrant," he said, recognizing my unusual accent.
"So?" I challenged.
His eyes narrowed considerably and he began to twirl his cane.
"So, you'se got some rules ta loin, if ya wanna live in New Yoik."
I stared expectantly, and his smirk became a superior gaze. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms.
"Foistly, no one, an' I'se mean no one, ever trespasses on Brooklyn territory. Anyone who violates rule one gets soaked."
I drew back, but was shoved forward by Spot's cronies.
"Is rule numba' one cleah?" he asked mockingly.
I nodded stiffly and he went on.
"Rule numbah two, everyone obeys my ordahs. You disobeh me you get a poisanal soakin'," he explained with taunting eyes. Then grinning he continued, "an' rule numbah t'ree: trust no one."
I raised an eye brown in confusion. "Then I can't trust you?"
"Nope."
"So how do I know you're really going to execute your rules."
"Well," he said, strolling closer, "if you'se wanna risk your own life ta see how reliable I'se am den go ahead. Break a rule. But it's youh neck." His eyes were daring me to do something out of line, Tantalizing me with unspoken comments.
My fists were clenched so hard my knuckles turned white. Unthinkingly, and rather stupidly, I raised my fist and made an effort to smash his face as hard as I could. Suddenly the air whistled near my ear and I was on the ground. I stood up clumsily, feeling throbbing pain in my right eye.
"Nice shinah," he commented coldly.
"I'll show you a shinah," I snapped trying to shake off the dizzy feeling. I stood and dodged another blow barely missing it. I began to follow Torrence instructions for avoiding fists.
I watched Spot's eyes to see what his emotions were and where he was planning on hitting. He was really good. His face was full of determination and any anger he had was hidden. I quickly followed his eye's focus to see which way to spring to. To onlookers we might have been dancing. His fists flew wildly at me, as well as his legs, and I smoothly twirled around the flailing limbs, smiling to myself. I could see in his face the understanding that this was getting him nowhere. Another right hook came halfheartedly towards me. I twisted away taking as step back. His eyes lit up but then were filled with determination again. He began taking steps while throwing fists. I dodged and stepped back as he did this.
I noticed that we were moving farther away from his newsies who watched intently. Then a horrifying realization dawned upon me. He was herding me to the edge of the dock. I turned around for a second and saw the crashing cold water hit the wooden beams supporting us.
I saw triumph light up in his face as he saw more horrified expression.
"Wait!" I cried. But it was too late, a fist connected with my right shoulder and I was flying into the water. The moment my skin touched it I yelped. It was icy cold.
I let out a gasp and swallowed a mouthful of sea water. I was choking.
My arms flailed to keep me above surface, but it was to no avail. I was sinking.
"Dat'll teach ya ta mess wid da king a Brooklyn!" I could hear Spot declare from far away.
I could hear more voices but it didn't matter anymore. I was going to die. Spot Conlon had killed me.
I ended my struggle and began to sink lower into a dark abyss.
"Erin, I told you to stay away from the creek," Papa scolded as I sat shivering in his dry shirt.
"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry. I just wanted to be like Sh-Shane, and P-Peter, and T-Torrence," I shuddered, "I never want to swim again, never, ever, ever!"
He looked at me concerned.
"You can swim you just need to learn from your brothers."
"NO!" I screamed, "I never want to go into water again!"
"Okay!" he said loudly, trying to calm me down.
"Never again."
I choked out sea water feeling a terrible wave of vertigo hit me. I groggily shook my head.
My vision came into focus and I saw a pair of bright green eyes peering down at me.
"'E's alive, Spot!" Doc called over his shoulder, giving me another cautious glance. I shoved him off of me and sat up. I was on the docks again with a circle of boys around me.
I saw my cap lay soggy besides me. After wringing it out I slapped it on my head and shakily stood up. Spot watched with an amused and concerned expression on his face.
"I can't swim," I snapped angrily.
His eyes raised in mock surprise.
"Really? I had no idea! Which part do ya think tipped me off, da drowing o' you'se tellin' me?"
"Spot Colon, I have one thing to say to you!" I then picked several words from Torrence's colorful vocabulary and used it to describe Spot, in his face. Of course it was all in Irish.
He watched amused until I was done. Then, in the same language as me, he called me a few other words. "I can put you back in the water," he sneered in Irish.
I was taken aback by his knowledge of the language but was too angry to care.
"Good bye, Conlon," I hissed through my teeth. I quickly twirled around and marched off his docks getting curious looks from his newsies.
"I'll be seeing you soon, Erin. You can count on that," he sneered.
I crossed back over the red bridge to Manhattan and came back to the lodge house. It was already getting late.
I shyly opened the door, peering in before entering. I ducked right in time, as a shoe sailed over my head.
"Dat's fer cheatin', you liar!" yelled a familiar voice.
I smiled turning to face Skittery. Who stood wearing one shoe, glaring down at the smug Racetrack, whose back was to me. Skittery noticed me and his anger left his face.
"Erin? You're back!" he cried, causing Racetrack to laugh.
"Do I look dat stupid? Erin ain't comin' back now."
I coughed into my fist, grinning at Skittery.
Racetrack turned around in surprise. "Erin!" he yelled tackling me.
"Um, ow," I managed out of breath.
"Aw you a ghost?" he asked, his eyes scanning over me.
"Do I look dead to you?" I asked sarcastically.
He grinned ear to ear. "Maybe."
Skittery socked him in the arm and extended his hand to me. I grabbed it and pulled myself up with his help.
"Thanks, Skitts."
"Shuah," he said, "Race, go get my shoe."
"Get your own shoe, ya bum," Race snapped rubbing his arm tenderly.
"Okay, Who's shoe is dis?" came a voice form the door. Cowboy stepped in with a brown shoe in hand, and confusion plain on his face.
"Mine!" Skittery replied, snatching it from Cowboys grasp.
"Skittery, what aw ya—" he didn't finish his sentence because right then he turned to me with his jaw dropped.
"Erin? You're alive?!" his arms stretched open to show his surprise.
I glanced down at me as if to double check if I was real.
"It would seem I am, yes."
Jack grinned and picked me up into a hug. I buried my face into his chest to hide my blush. Torrence would kill Jack for this. He never even let boys look at me let alone, touch me.
Once he put me down his face became serious.
"So what did Spot want?"
"He just wanted to tell me 'Da rules'," I explained, imitating his accent horribly.
Jack cracked a grin. "Yeah, I'se wouldn't put it past him."
"He's an arrogant one, isn't he?" I commented. Jack's face grew grim.
"Listen, we'se don't talk bad 'bout Spot heah. He's a respectable newsie, an' should be treated as such."
"Respectable?!" I asked angrily, "he nearly killed me!"
"I neva' said 'e was nice. Just respectable,"
I shrugged, seeing Jack wasn't going to back down on this one. "Okay, Jack, fine."
I was about to walk out the door when I Blink walked in. His sad eye came up and met mine. Instantly a grin and pinned onto his face.
"Erin! Youh alive!"
"Yeah—" I began but he tackled my to the floor before I could finish.
"Uh, hello?" I gasped underneath his weight.
"I'se thought dey'd killed ya!" he yelled, getting an annoyed glance from Kloppman.
"Me? I'm indestructible, mate. I don't die." I grinned.
He slapped me on the back while helping stand up.
"Well, I'se sure am glad Conlon was in a good mood taday!"
"Who said he was in a good mood?" I asked quickly.
"Well you're alive, dat can only mean he didn't feel like fightin'," Blink explained.
"I did fight him," I interjected.
"Really!?" Blink's eye brow rose, and the other boys gathered curiously.
"How do you think I got this?" I asked pointed to my swollen eye. "We fought and then he pushed me into the water—"
"Dat explains da wet clothes," commented Mush.
"'Ey, let him finish," hushed Race quickly.
"So I stared to drown," I continued, "so Doc came and saved me. And then Spot and I argued for a bit and I left."
"Just like dat?" whispered Race.
"Sure," I shrugged. Everyone gaped at me in awe. "Um, guys, it really wasn't a big deal."
"'It really not a big deal' he says afta' fightin' wid the Spot Conlon!" Blink whispered playfully into Mush's ear.
"Listen, I'm beat—"
"Literally," Race whispered, interrupting me. I threw him a glare and everyone quieted down.
"So I'm going to bed early." I turned and walked up the stairs. I was still wet so I found a spare outfit in a drawer full of moth balls. I pulled that on in the water closet and took my wet things out onto the fire escape, laying them out to dry. I looked up at the darkened sky. Horse drawn carriages passed every once and a while, and a rat might be heard skittering across the street, but other than that it was silent.
I brushed my shaggy hair out of my face angrily.
"Stupid Conlon," I snarled quietly, before setting off to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
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