A Time To Change
Prologue:
Patrick Conlon ran down alley after alley, street after street, until he decided that the bulls wouldn't be able to find him. He breathed deeply in and out, slowly taking in his surroundings only to realize that he was only a block or two away from the Brooklyn Bridge. He could cross it and stay in Manhattan until the bulls stopped searching for him and things quieted down; or he could keep hiding in alleys or in the Brooklyn Lodging House for Newsies and hope that the bulls didn't find him. Patrick, now rejuvenated by the quick stop, ran towards Jack Kelly, his only friend, in Manhattan. He reached the Manhattan Lodging House just as the sun began to set and barged through the doors. Inside, he saw an old, balding man at the desk known as Kloppman.
"Kloppman!.....Where's Jack?.....I'se need ta talk ta 'im," said Patrick, still trying to catch his breath.
"'E's upstairs. Jist run up and go in da foist door on yer left," replied Kloppman.
Patrick raced up the stairs and barged through yet another door to find about twenty or thirty guys ranging from age 5-18 staring at him. Finally he spotted Jack just coming out of the washroom. Jack recognized him immediately even after a year.
"Pat, whatcha doin' 'ere so late?," asked Jack as he walked towards him. "Why ya so otta breath? Ya look like ya've been runnin' all da way 'ere from Brooklyn."
"I did run all da way from Brooklyn," said Patrick. "I'se runnin' from da bulls. Dey's caught me stealin' me dinnea. I ran and I ended up 'ere."
"Wow. I didn't know ya 'ad ta steal ta eat. Ya could've come 'ere a long time ago," said Jack, feeling sorry that he had ever left Brooklyn or his best friend, Spot (named after a little incident he had with a horse when they were about 9.) "I'se been worried about cha, Spot."
"I'se managed, Jacky-boy. All I need is a bunk ta sleep on and someone ta teach me da tricks of da trade so dat when I 'ead back I can join da Brooklyn Newsies."
"Well, I'se da leadea of Manhattan's Newsies and I'se always so busy or else I'd be glad ta 'elp. So I'll 'ave Blink teach cha and ya can stay on da bed below me since Snappea left ta find a bettea job," replied Jack, pointing to an empty bed. Spot went and laid down, exhausted from his run, and fell into a deep sleep. ~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Okay so this is my first story.....Please review and tell me what you think. ~Molly
Patrick Conlon ran down alley after alley, street after street, until he decided that the bulls wouldn't be able to find him. He breathed deeply in and out, slowly taking in his surroundings only to realize that he was only a block or two away from the Brooklyn Bridge. He could cross it and stay in Manhattan until the bulls stopped searching for him and things quieted down; or he could keep hiding in alleys or in the Brooklyn Lodging House for Newsies and hope that the bulls didn't find him. Patrick, now rejuvenated by the quick stop, ran towards Jack Kelly, his only friend, in Manhattan. He reached the Manhattan Lodging House just as the sun began to set and barged through the doors. Inside, he saw an old, balding man at the desk known as Kloppman.
"Kloppman!.....Where's Jack?.....I'se need ta talk ta 'im," said Patrick, still trying to catch his breath.
"'E's upstairs. Jist run up and go in da foist door on yer left," replied Kloppman.
Patrick raced up the stairs and barged through yet another door to find about twenty or thirty guys ranging from age 5-18 staring at him. Finally he spotted Jack just coming out of the washroom. Jack recognized him immediately even after a year.
"Pat, whatcha doin' 'ere so late?," asked Jack as he walked towards him. "Why ya so otta breath? Ya look like ya've been runnin' all da way 'ere from Brooklyn."
"I did run all da way from Brooklyn," said Patrick. "I'se runnin' from da bulls. Dey's caught me stealin' me dinnea. I ran and I ended up 'ere."
"Wow. I didn't know ya 'ad ta steal ta eat. Ya could've come 'ere a long time ago," said Jack, feeling sorry that he had ever left Brooklyn or his best friend, Spot (named after a little incident he had with a horse when they were about 9.) "I'se been worried about cha, Spot."
"I'se managed, Jacky-boy. All I need is a bunk ta sleep on and someone ta teach me da tricks of da trade so dat when I 'ead back I can join da Brooklyn Newsies."
"Well, I'se da leadea of Manhattan's Newsies and I'se always so busy or else I'd be glad ta 'elp. So I'll 'ave Blink teach cha and ya can stay on da bed below me since Snappea left ta find a bettea job," replied Jack, pointing to an empty bed. Spot went and laid down, exhausted from his run, and fell into a deep sleep. ~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Okay so this is my first story.....Please review and tell me what you think. ~Molly