Ok peoples. I know I haven't finished my other stories, but, I have a bit of writers block and wanted to write something else anyway, so, yeah, here goes...
Jack Sullivan was feeling low. Really low. He and Sarah had just argued for the third time this week and Sarah had told him to leave her parent's house and never come back. This had happened before, but Jack knew that this time it was for real. Sarah's father had followed him out the door and, in the hallway, told Jack that he thought that Sarah was right, that the thing between him and Sarah was not meant to be, that Jack obviously was not fit to marry, and would Jack please stay away from her. Jack, already tense because of his argument with Sarah, blew up at Mr. Jacob, shouting in his anger that, no, he would never come back, but not because of anything that Mr. Jacob, or Sarah for that matter, said. It was his own choice, he told the man. And he didn't want to have anything to do with either of them, ever again. Jack had stormed out of the building and, for several blocks, his anger had kept him warm and walking, but, now he noticed that the overcast skies above were beginning to spit snow and it was bone-chillingly cold. Stepping into the first tavern he saw, he ordered a straight whiskey, hoping to somehow warm himself and forget his troubles at the same time. As he sat sipping the fiery drink, he contemplated what he was going to.
Jack didn't have any place to go. The lodging house for newsies had shut down three weeks after the strike because Mr. Kloppman had a heart attack and the boys each attempted to acquire new, and sometimes better accommodations, scattering far and wide with the effort. Jack had moved with the Jacob family to San Francisco, he and David being as close as brothers and all, and he had remained there for the last year, doing his part to help support the family. He and Sarah had gotten pretty close over that year as well, and he had spoken with Mr. Jacob, and Sarah, about possibly pursuing an engagement with her, but, now, with the falling out between him and Mr. Jacob and Sarah, his family, girl, and shelter was gone. And he was broke. Actually, that was what caused the arguments between him and Sarah in the first place. He had gotten laid off his job as a dock worker (it paid better than selling newspapers) and hadn't told the Jacobs, thinking that he would get a new job quickly and they would never know the difference until he told them. Well, getting a job had proved harder than it sounded. Work was scarce and Jack had been out until late at night every evening for the last week and a half. Sarah, not knowing the reason for this, thought the worst and began to accuse Jack of being unfaithful. This made him angry, and two evenings this week, they had each retired to their rooms after a shouting match. Jack didn't tell Sarah about the job because things were already tight in the Jacob household and he didn't want her to worry about money any more than she had to. He knew that the family counted on his contribution as much as they did on Mr. Jacob's. So, finally their conflict climaxed and Jack told her the truth. Unfortunately, instead of appeasing Sarah, it only angered her more that he hadn't been leveling with her. She told him that she didn't think that he was fit to be a husband if it meant keeping secrets from his wife and letting her think and worry about the worst. The conflict ended with Jack in the streets.
Jack finished his fourth drink, and, about drunk by now, ordered still another. The bartender shook his head. "Nope, not til you pay for the others." Jack laughed drunkenly and explained that he was broke. The bartender yelled and cursed at him, then had a couple fellows throw him out into the snow.
So now here he was. The immediate cold sobered him up a little and he began to think more seriously. No job, no home, no food. He didn't even have a friend to ask, confining most of his social life to the Jacobs and their friends, and he did not want to explain to any of them that he had gotten kicked out of the Jacob home. Oh well, he tried to tell himself. It's not like you've never slept in the streets before, or gone hungry for that matter. With a sigh, not really convinced, he set about stumblingly to find a sheltered nook in an alley or something. He finally settled on an old wooden box and wormed his way into the most comfortable position. It was snowing pretty heavily now and Jack attempted to stuff himself even further into the box to have a bit more shelter. It took awhile, but, eventually, weary from the physical, mental, and emotional exertion of the day and from the drink, he fell asleep.