Streets of Boston 1920s
She had been on the streets since her father had found her with another girl in their tiny hovel within the slums of Boston. Maggie knew it was only a matter of time before he thrust her out. They were poor. Her mother had only just died, her father a drunk. It was only a matter of time and finding a reason to send her out to fend for herself. Her mother would have never allowed it, but her father was all too happy to never have any mouth but his own to feed.
It had been a struggle at first. The streets were no place for a fourteen-year-old girl. The matron of a brothel was set on reminding her as she offered her one night's food. Only one night. Other nights, Maggie would have to pay for with her body. Maggie wasn't willing to pay the price.
She found herself back on the streets after that one night. It was hard. Other street folk leered at her as she passed by, she felt dirty, hungry, and watched. The night was cold and the ground hard as she tried to sleep on nothing.
It was as she passed through an alley the next day and a man accosted her that Maggie fully realized what was meant by the streets not being a place for a girl her age. He was grabbing her, trying to corner her as she struggled. It was when Maggie was pushed down, and she found her hand on a loose brick that she turned on him and hit him on the side of the head.
She was terrified at the blood that trickled down the side of his face. He was laid out on the dirty ground, taken down by a small girl with a brick. A small, street girl, with no one to protect her, should the law show up.
Another teen dashed out from behind a pile of garbage in the alley. He bent down to rummage through the knocked-out man's pockets. Maggie watched, frozen, before the teen looked up and Maggie realized, this was a girl. A girl, in street boy's clothing.
"Hey." She held out a hand for Maggie to shake. Her grin was roguish. Maggie admired it, but warily, remembering her father's reaction to finding her with another girl. She gave Maggie some of the coin she found and pointed at the stranger's boots. "Take those, and follow me!"
From that day on, Maggie went by her last name, Sawyer, and as she was taught by her fellow street kid, Eli, she began to dress like a young man. Sawyer, was quickly trained in the art of the pickpocket and a few other handy tricks to get by on the streets. If not for Eli, Maggie wasn't sure how she would have survived those first few years.
It was as Maggie roamed the streets of Boston as Sawyer that she saw her first magician. Eli had to abandon her two years before after one too many run-ins with the law. It left Maggie feeling left alone, but she understood. She was contemplating an escape of her own.
People were gathered around a corner, she heard gasps of excitement and was drawn in by the "oohs" and "aahs" of the crowd. A young man waved his hands around and talked animatedly to the crowd. A young girl stood before him and with a trick of his hand, he made a flower appear. People gasped but Maggie watched him with narrowed eyes, she could almost see through his trick.
She watched as he did some fancy card trick, made a coin appear, and then a bird. It was all so simple, but it wasn't the tricks, or the illusions, really, that impressed Maggie.
It was the tips people were leaving for the young man. As well as the tiny hands lifting goods from pockets as people watched the show.
Small street children were picking pockets as people watched the show. Maggie snatched a hand as it reached for her own, her pocket lined with her pickings from earlier in the day.
"Don't even think it, kid." She glared down at a boy with a missing tooth. He grinned at her and darted away as she let him go.
The street performer ended his show with a flourish, and a bow, Maggie missed his last trick. She watched as he gathered up his money. She waited until people were walking away before she approached him. She was interested in his little tricks. She was also interested in his little game; the street children were clearly part of it.
Maggie handed the young man a fallen card that was part of his trick. She grinned when she noticed the very miniscule marking on it. It was quickly snatched out of her hand. She held up her hands.
"Hey, I won't tell a soul." Maggie grinned.
"I was just wondering how you do it, myself." Maggie wanted to know. The lad eyed her suspiciously. He had dark hair, and dark eyes. He probably saw right through Maggie's own illusion, but she didn't care, street kids wore disguises often enough to get by that it felt normal to her now.
A shout told them that some of the audience that had been in his crowd realized they were missing items. Maggie looked over her shoulder to see a few of them headed their way. The jig was up.
She turned to see the youth hurrying to grab his things. Maggie helped him out by grabbing a box of his stuff. He gave her a wary look.
"We better hurry!" She nodded back at the approaching group. He gulped and grabbed his things and with Maggie's help they ran off with down the street with the tools of his trade. The group of kids that had been picking pockets the whole time were nowhere to be seen. Maggie began to wonder if they really were with him.
Down an alley, around several corners, they ducked through hidden areas until Maggie was sure she was good and lost in parts of the city that she was sure she had never been in. She was halted by the sudden stop of the boy she followed at a door in a wall that was well hidden in a niche beyond an alleyway.
He knocked, a series of rhythmic taps that Maggie supposed were secret. She heard excited shouts, hushing, and then shuffling.
Another teen answered the door, a girl with a pretty face, and a smile Maggie knew was solely for the boy in front of her. She ached, wishing she had what he did.
"Kent. One of the kids warned me that the adults noticed the picking, I was worried!" The girl reached out to check on the well-being of the young man. Maggie turned away and tuned them out.
"Who is this?" Maggie turned back to see the youth sighing.
"She helped me carry my stuff." He held his hand out. Maggie handed him his box. She admired the carvings over the top. It was pretty. Maggie didn't own a thing she couldn't carry in her pockets.
"Do you have a name?" The girl wanted to know. Maggie grunted.
"Sawyer."
The girl raised a brow. Maggie noticed her hair was a dark color. She wasn't falling for Maggie's disguise. She pursed her lips.
"Maggie Sawyer." Maggie sighed. She wasn't very tall, and her overlarge clothes may hide much of her figure, but her cute face didn't do a good job of hiding her gender for everyone. She had tried cutting her hair short like Eli suggested, but felt funny about it.
"Well, Maggie Sawyer, I happen to work for a Tailor, if you wouldn't mind coming in, I wouldn't mind helping you fix that outfit." The girl smirked. She knew. Maggie huffed and when Kent stepped out of the way, holding his arm out, Maggie stepped past him, knowing she should take their offer.
"I'm Inza Fox." The girl introduced herself. Maggie quite enjoyed her honeyed voice. Something told her Inza and Kent were welcoming people, especially towards people like herself.
"Let's get you into something better, and perhaps Kent can help you learn a thing or two." Maggie blushed. She had been hoping the youth could teach her a few of his magic tricks.
Months passed, and with Kent Nelson's help, Maggie became a pretty skilled Magician. She wasn't like he was, interested in learning and mastering the art of Illusions, she knew he was saving up money to go abroad, to learn from Illusionists overseas. Maggie was more interested in the living she could earn from it, in the becoming skilled and better so that none of her audience could catch her tricks, her sleight of hand that allowed her to deceive them.
Inza and Kent allowed her to board with them. They had a spare room. Maggie gave them some of her earnings. She stopped picking pockets after two months. Sometimes Maggie found her hands itching to reach for a pocket when it looked easy, admittedly. It had become habit after living on the streets. Inza ignored it. Kent knew how it was, he had been a street kid too, before a magician picked him up off the streets and taught him how to earn an "artist's living". Inza had come from a decent home, but lost her parents in a fire.
Inza would watch them practice, sometimes the street children would come and Inza would make sweets. They would clap when Maggie did well, and laugh when she failed. She was learning to enjoy her life.
Maggie bought cheap cloth and Inza brought home some scraps from work. They soon created a new wardrobe for Maggie to wear and perform as the "Spellbinding Sawyer". Maggie was gathering small crowds, eager to watch her perform.
The haircut that made her look like some roguish, dimpled boy with a soft smile probably helped. Inza cut her hair with a pair of seamstress shears. Maggie closed her eyes the entire time, and didn't entirely hate it when she realized how easily she would pass as some adorable boy once she put on the special corset Inza had prepared for her that would hide her chest. It was like a backwards vest that Maggie could tighten to hide certain assets that made her figure obviously feminine.
Maggie didn't even need to stuff her pants anymore. Inza sowed the crotched with a lining of cloth to make it look like "Sawyer" was a real boy.
Despite the numerous, admiring gazes Maggie saw thrown her way while she was out performing, she never approached anyone. She knew who the young women that gazed at her thought they were admiring. They saw Sawyer, a boy, a street performer with whom they could probably have a quick tryst with, then be along their way.
They didn't see Maggie, a girl, who only wanted to be loved, and not be a quick toy for someone to play with and promptly throw away. Maggie who liked girls even though there were people who thought she shouldn't.
Kent and Inza announced their engagement to Maggie on a bright sunny afternoon. Maggie had wanted to be happy for them, but her lonely heart wasn't in it. They finally had the money for their trip overseas. They were going to take it.
Maggie walked the street sullenly as Sawyer. She wasn't performing today, just wandering. She needed to think, and maybe to think of a plan. She couldn't afford the place she, Inza, and Kent had been renting together alone.
She turned a corner and saw the poster then, plastered to the side of a building, calling for performers at a place in Manhattan. They wanted new acts, new people who could perform for people to watch. Maggie read the poster over several times.
It could pay enough. She might have to do a few performances on the side, but if the pay was steady, she could have a place of her own.
Something about the way the poster caught her eyes told Maggie, this was the place to be. She had to go to Manhattan, to find her way to the stage, and make herself a life. She had to get out of Boston.
Mind made up, Maggie turned away, and headed on home. She needed to figure out how much a trip to Manhattan would be, and how much she would need to save to get there if she didn't have enough saved in her hidden money box.
It would be on the streets of Manhattan, that Maggie would learn magic might just be real, and that the one thing she had always hoped for, could be real too.