"How can you say that?! How can you say to my face, that my sister, my goddamn only sister that has been gone for two days is fine?! She could be hurt! She could be lyin' in a damn ditch right now, she could be beaten up, raped, she could be DEAD, dammit!" the boy shouted at his father.
"She'll be fine, I didn't name her Maniac for nothing, boy." the Father replied with a wave of his hand. This only seemed to anger the boy.
"You-" he jabbed a finger at his father accusingly, tears filling his eyes, his voice shaking. "Did NOT name her. You don't even care what happens to her!! All you want is for her to get out of here! You don't care! You never cared!"
"I care fine, boy. And It'll do you fine ta know that I did come up with that name," the father replied. "You really have no right to say those things to me, you know."
The boy turned to leave, but the father stopped him. "Where you goin, boy?"
"I'm gonna find her." he replied hotly. "She's still my sister even if she's not your daughter." He turned to the door, and saw the girl standing there, her face white, her mouth dropping a little bit.
"Maniac," he said. She shook her head.
"Not...not your daughter?" she whispered. She seemed to be waiting for something...for someone to say they were just kidding, for her father to take her in his arms and say he loved her. But neither of those things happened. She looked down, a look of understanding coming upon her face.
"You didn't know my birthday," she said softly. "You thought it was in November" she was breathing faster now, and tears were stinging her eyes. The Father took a step forward.
"Your mother," he started, but was cut short by her shout.
"I don't wanna hear it!" she screamed. She backed away, slowly then turned and broke into a run. She down the stairs, her brother shouting after her, her so-called-father saying "oh, Let 'er go, I never liked her anyway,"
I never liked her anyway,
She's still my sister even if she isn't your daughter.
Even if she's not your daughter.
Not your daughter.
Not Your Daughter.
*
"Wake up call ladies!!" Laces Frells shouted, pounding the fireplace pipes with a shoe. Moans and groans filled the Upper Manhattan Newsgirls Lodging House, but one voice, the voice belonging to Maniac Magee said nothing. She had bolted upright from her dream, sweat falling around her forehead, her hands so tightly around her blanket her knuckles were white. In an instant, Laces was next to her, kneeling down, a sly grin plastered across her face.
"Rise 'n shine dearie! It's ass-whoopin' time!" she said brightly. Maniac groaned and flopped back on her side.
"I'm not cooking." she said firmly.
"Oh, Maniac, knife in my heart!" Laces said, sounding as if she was genuinely hurt.
"Look, I don't care if we have to have a stinkin' treaty with these boys, I am still not cooking." Maniac went on.
"Turning, turning, turning," Laces continued, putting a hand on her heart as if she was in pain.
"I also don't care if we have a stupid kitchen that half of New York would kill for," Maniac groaned.
"AN AX!" Laces screamed wildly. "It's turned into an ax!"
Maniac stared her straight in the eye, scowling. Finally, she sighed.
"Laces, honestly why couldn't you have just put me in decorations with the rest of them?" she moaned.
"Because I wanted to see what our little Maniac girl could do with a knife," Laces said sweetly, pinching her cheek. "Now get up!! All the stuff's down in the kitchen already along with the recipes." and with that, she bounced off to go get ready for the day.
"I was the first one to JOIN this lodging house!!" Maniac shouted after her. "And this is the thanks I get?!"
She rolled out of bed, muttering things to herself. Oh, honestly. Just because they had Lil' newsboy neighbors in Manhattan, Laces had gotten some wack idea that her girls and their guys went together like paper and glue. So her and the leader of the newsboys, Jack Kelly had formed up a plan.
On Christmas Eve, The Newsgirls would meet the Newsboys. Laces and Jack had each picked someone from their lodging house, and each of them was instructed to buy a small gift for their partner. Then, on Christmas Eve, the boys would come to the girl's lodging house, meet their partner, exchange gifts, eat the dinner the girls would make, then have a night out with their partner. And if that wasn't enough, they had to sell with that person for two whole weeks.
"Mornin', Maniac!" Legend called to Maniac as she stumbled into the washroom.
"Hey Ledge," Maniac said.
Hailing from Athens, Greece, Legend got her nickname from the hilarious Legends and Myths she told the girls. She stood at about 5'8, with sandy blond hair that was cut just below her shoulders. She had olive-colored skin, brown eyes, a small nose and dark, dark eyelashes and eyebrows. She wore a white undershirt and a dark blue shirt, with black pants. Always in a good mood, Legend definately took the prize of the happiest girl at the scariest hour.
"Where's the soap?!" Hands shouted, coming into the washroom. "I cant find any soap anywhere!" she complained, waving her hands around like a lunatic.
Hands was from Jersey, and she ran away because her parents couldnt afford to feed her. She was named cause of her elusive hand motions she always used when talking. She was pretty short, 5'4 at the highest, with brown hair, green eyes, and pale pink lips. She had brown pants and a bright green shirt, with a black newsies hat.
Then came Scribbles and Stars. Twins from Georgia, these two shared everything. Scribbles was 5'7, with jet black hair that went down her back and hazel eyes. Stars was 5'6, with golden hair that was cut just below her ears. She usually had it in pigtails, sticking out in ever direction. She had amazing blue eyes that stared right into your soul. Scribbles loved to write, while Stars had a passion for anything that had to do with the outside. They both wore Black pants and light blue shirts.
Lucky Seven was still sleeping, snoring quietly. Named for her addiction to gambling, she usually stayed out until one or two in the morning, then would sleep until nine or ten. With red hair and brown eyes, she stood at about 5'9, pretty tall for only her age of 15. Usually she wore Dark blue jeans with a light orange shirt and a white undershirt.
Smoothie was already showering. This girl was so smooth, she talked her way out of anything and everything. Except when it came to chores around the LH. she had hair that was so blond it was white and pale lips, with light blue eyes. She wore a plain outfit, light blue jeans and a bright yellow shirt.
Sneakers was downstairs, getting boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations out with Brick. These two did everything together, no matter what. Sneakers got her name for how quiet she could sneak around, while Brick was named after...well, nobody really knew. Loud and obnoxious, Brick was exactly the opposite of Sneakers, who always stayed in the shadows. Both were around 5'3, with blue eyes and brown hair. Sometimes people mistook them for sisters. Both had brown pants, while Sneakers wore a red shirt and Brick wore a peach colored one.
More girls poured into the washroom. Bubbles, with her giggly attitude towards life, Flaim with her bright red hair, Cotton, with the cotton clothes she valued dearly, Dreaymer, with her head in the clouds, Treble, with her musical talent, Bug, Print, Hazard, candy-cane and the youngest of them all, Lines.
Laces was already downstairs, humming a Christmas tune to herself. Her curly brown hair bounced all around her face, hitting her shoulders at just the right place, complementing her rosy-red cheeks and dark eyelashes that shaded her piercing green eyes that stared at you importantly. It was her whole manner, the way she held herself, the way she walked, that told everyone she was in charge. Laces had come from Ireland with a family of a brother and a sister. On the boat, her brother got the measles and died, and her sister ran away shortly after they reached America. Laces wandered around for a few years before coming to this Lodging house. It was in the process of being built for newsgirls all around. She talked her way into it, and soon she owned it.
And now, if you had to pick a real character of the Lodging House, it would be Maniac.
Maniac Magee.
They say she ran the whole way to New York from Maine. They say it only took her two days. They say that her father killed her mother and brother then went after her. And Everybody knows she can't turn down any dare, ever. That's how she got her name. When she first came to New York, she told everybody her name was Lindsay, but within days people had named her Maniac again.
Maniac was, the most uncaring person perhaps anybody had ever met. She didn't care what people thought, she didn't care what they said, she just didn't care. Of course, if you asked anybody who the most popular and respected newsie in that Lodging House was, immediately they'd respond "Maniac, of course. What are ya, an idiot?" But even with all that fame, never once inside the lodging house, or out did anyone claim to be Maniac's friend. But that didn't bother Maniac at all, in fact it seemed, Like she couldn't care less.
Sure, she was friendly with all the girls, and they were friendly back, but nobody seemed to know her well enough to claim to be her friend.
Maniac was about 5'5, with a slender profile that probably came from running so much. She had brownish/blond hair and ice cold eyes, reflecting her silent hate for the world.
You could usually find her running around somewhere, doing some ridiculous dare, meeting new people, and her new favorite thing to do, get in trouble. She liked to bug the bulls just to see how much crap they would take from her. And she liked too mooch change off anybody just to see how much she could get.
Maniac finished washing up and threw on her clothes. Old, ragged brown pants that were a little too long for her and frayed at the bottom from how much she stepped on the as she ran, and a white undershirt with a white overshirt that stretched past her hands and her waist. Again, her outfit said: Uncaring.
Maniac headed downstairs to the kitchen, where she met up with Legend, Hands and Lucky Seven, who all looked either very sad or very tired.
"Maniac make her stop!" Legend cried the moment she walked in. "I don't know how to cook!!" she wailed. "I never cooked in my life!!"
"Neither have i!" Hands added. "I don't even want a date I'm happy SINGLE!!" she moaned.
"I used to cook at a restaraunt so relax" Seven said. "I know how to make all of this stuff."
"At least someone knows how" Maniac said. "I sure don't."
"Well, Maniac, you get out the flour the sugar and all the dry ingredients," Seven instructed. "Legend, get the wet ones like the eggs and the milk. Ill get everything else, and hands-you help Maniac, until five, then start the fire underneath the stove over there. There's some stuff to help it burn better next to it, just squirt a little on and light a match and boom-theres yer fire," she said. Everyone started doing what they were told to. After a few hours, Hands tried to start a fire.
"Maniac come help me start the fire!!" Hands said. Maniac balanced the flour bag in one arm and went next to Hands.
"Didja put the fluid stuff on?" she asked.
"A little," hands said.
"Here, try more," Maniac grabbed the bottle and dumped half of it on the logs. She took the match Hands offered her and lit it, throwing it in fireplace. Immediately the fire was blazing. Maniac grinned smugly and wiped the dust off her hands.
"MANIAC!!" Hands screamed. "YOUR ARM IS ON FIRE!!" Maniac looked down and saw that sure enough, her right sleeve was on fire.
"Get it out!! Get it out!!" she shouted, jumping up. Hands picked up the flour and attempted to get it on her arm, but ended up throwing it all over her face too. Legend grabbed a pot and began to swipe at Maniac's arm. She hit it with a bang, causing Maniac to howl in pain.
"I'VE GOT IT!!" Seven shouted. She ran to Maniac with a bucket of ice-cold water and threw it at her arm. The flames went out and Maniac collapsed on the floor, holding her arm. Everyone was pretty stunned. Suddenly, Maniac started crackin up laughing.
"I just set my arm on fire!" she said. "That was pretty stupid and now i think it's going to fall off," she rolled up her burned sleeve, her arm was red from the burn.
"Oops" she shrugged. "Oh well. Where were we?"
"Maniac. You just got your arm burnt to a crisp. I think maybe more then an 'oh well' might be necessary right about now," Hands said. "Lets take you to Laces."
They dragged her up the stairs to Laces room. Seven pounded on the door.
"Maniac set herself on fire!" she said. In an instant Laces was at the door, looking confused. She saw Maniacs scorched arm and sighed.
"Maniac, you are appropriately named." she said plainly.
"I didn't mean to!" Maniac said in self-defense.
"Well, come on. We've got burn medicine. Go lay down and I'll go get it. Seven, tell Cotton she's on the cooking committee," Laces said. "And hurry! The boys are coming in less then two hours!!"