Chapter One

Early May

Queens, New York

"Oi! Flor!" A voice called from behind me. I turned and saw a figure standing behind me in the entrance to the roof.

"Whaddya want Charlie? Can't you see I'm a little bit preoccupied here?" I removed my hand from where it propped up my head and took my foot off of the edge of the building. I was observing Queens from my very own perch on the top of the world. Or at least, my top of the world, that being the Queens very own Lodging House.

"We all's goin' ta Bruce's fa dinna, you's comin'? We's leavin' soon," he stepped out from the staircase and stood leaning on the wall with his hands behind his back.

"Yeah, I'm coming, I'll be down in a second, tell the other boys, but don't make 'em wait. I take that back, tell Cig to wait up, I don't think he'll mind," I turned my head back around to the soon setting sun, putting my hands on my hips and straightening my back.

"All right, Flor," he turned and left, shutting the door soundly behind him.

I heard voices coming quickly from below and a few from the fire escape that was on the side of the building. A few men and women were walking down the sidewalk as well, oblivious that anyone was watching them. I turned from the ledge and kicked a stray rock that was on the paved part of the roof.

I was walking to the doorway when I heard a catcall from behind me. I turned to see a figure standing on the neighboring building's roof. I didn't know exactly what to make of it, or if I knew exactly whom it was, but I did know that a family of boys lived there. I'd have to see what our sights new of the place.

I rolled my eyes and continued in the way that I was talking. I wasn't careful to pick up my skirt as I walked down the steps. The heavy clink of my boots that I didn't try to hide was audible on the metal walkway of the staircase. Not a lot of people came up to the roof because of how I pretty much claimed the place.

"You gots ta get da best spot if ya gonna be da best leada, Flor. It's your time ta shine," the last leader of Queens patted me on my back on the first of January. It was only a few months ago, but he had already moved out of the boarding house, leaving me to rule this borough with a cabinet of sorts until it was my own time to pass on the title. The roof was the place for those 'distinguished with the title of Queens,' or whatever the hell Cadet told me his last day. I wondered where he is now. Hasn't been anything in the papes 'bout him being brutally murdered or some unknown body being found in the middle of the street.

Pushing it out of my mind, I pushed open the door at the end of the staircase with my foot and hopped down the two steps that lead up to the door. Cig was sitting outside of the washroom on a broken chair leaning back on the wall. He was starting to light up when he saw, or rather heard me connecting with the floor. I closed the door behind me and fixed the small hook to keep it closed.

"Flor," he said, pushing the cigarette behind his ear, "Why da hell are ya wearin' a skirt? Where'd'ya pants go?"

"Is there something wrong with me wantin' to wear a skirt, Cig? You gotta problem with it?" I crossed my arms, "I think I look perfectly fine. Hell, we're going to dinner. Is it a sin for a girl to want to look nice in public?"

"Nah, it ain't dat, it's just, wull…" he shook his head and pulled his cap off with one hand, "Wull, why the hell are ya wearin' a skirt?"

"Because I want to. Do you want me to change? It's not even a full skirt, Jesus, relax will ya?"

"Its jus' been a while, Flor, das all. Ya look nice," He said, standing, and giving me a once over, "C'mere, Kid, dey's all waiting for us," I shook my head at him and pulled out my bowler from where I had it behind my back and slipped it over my head, being careful to smooth it over the top of my head. I didn't want it to give me hat hair when we got to Bruce's, so it wasn't completely on, just lightly.

"Whaddya doin' wearing dat thing?" Cig wouldn't stop pelting me, but I knew it was all in good fun, "Hell, ya look like a man wit dat on!" He turned from where he was standing beside me and flicked my bowler up even farther than what it was already. I laughed as we reached the front desk where our house super was. We signed out, as it was mandatory, and then made our way out the front door. Thankfully, it's still light outside, seeing as it's only May, and crossed the street to make our way to Bruce's and join up with the rest of the crew.

Cig pulled out his cigarette again and lit up, taking a few short puffs and then one long drag. He notched it between his pointer and middle finger on his left hand and stuck the rest of his fingertips into his pocket.

"Whaddya think of all a'dis, Flor? These past couple'a months, I mean. Ain't it been crazy?" He took another drag from his cigarette and replaced his hands. He kept his head facing in front of him and moved in and out of the masses of people going to and from work.

I received a few strange looks from young women dressed in the 'proper attire.' I shrugged them off before answering, "I'd agree with that. I find it hard to believe that I'm here, in the greatest city on earth, spending time with a bunch of crazies like you. Nonetheless, I couldn't ask to be anywhere else. I love my newsies."

He nodded slightly as we made our way across a small alleyway. We walked a good majority of the way in silence. Puffs of smoke coming from Cig were the only thing that could settle for interaction, that being it wasn't. He motioned his hand toward me as we stopped at the edge of one of the blocks. Horses and people were still busily moving around. I grabbed his hand and looked both directions before running across the street, weaving in and out of people and carriages bustling past. There were a few shouts of anger from behind us, but we just continued moving.

Cig let out a sigh as we kept walking. My boys and girls were able to see us through the windows that lined the entire front wall of Bruce's. There were tables lined up on the window too, it served as a bar of sorts, but we weren't allowed in there at night. Cig kept a hold of my hand as he opened the front door for me. I pulled him in as he followed me through, being greeted by the heavy smell of cigarette smoke and loud laughter.

My troop was situated right in the center of the restaurant with all of the small tables pulled together into a long one. Two spots at the head of the table still remained empty. One seat for Cig and one seat for me. I could see Catch and Quirk, the two girls of the borough, and also my best friend and half of my personal cabinet, were already seated beside my seat. They were holding a conversation with a few of the other boys, from the looks of it; it was Squint and the Prof from what I could see.

A few greetings, all of them being both loud and accompanied with slaps on my back, were thrown at me as we made our way down the table. I waved to an very tired looking Bruce that was working at the second nonalcoholic bar in the joint, who was serving slices of pie to a couple. He waved back and held up a finger mouthing, 'Gimmie a minute,' to me. Cig released my hand as he took his seat next to Catch. He smacked her lightly on the back and mushed his cigarette into the tray in front of her.

"Hey Catch, quit hoggin' da potatas' and gimme ya plate. I'm starvin' 'ere," he reached across her and grabbed her plate, which resulted in her only grabbing Quirk's own. Quirk just sighed, knowing that there was no use in fighting it. I laughed lightly and took my own seat at the head of the table.

"So what did I miss Quirk? Anything important?" I asked her. She was sitting to my right with no plate of food in front of her. I heard Bruce walking up behind me and he put his hand on my shoulder. I quickly asked him for two specials, one for me and one for Quirk.

"Nope, nothin', jus' da normal talk 'ere. Mostly jus' talkin' 'bout new spots ta sell at tomorra'. No ones got inna fight yet. Dat's a foist," she shook her head and put her forearm on the table where her forehead soon followed.

I laughed lightly at her, "Tired there, Quirk?"

She nodded, her forehead creased and uncreased as she shook her head up and down, agreeing with my question.

About half an hour of small talk passed when I heard Bruce coming up behind me in some way. His footsteps were always sure and right, and I'd never seen or heard of him dropping or spilling a single order. I turned to see him carrying both Quirk and my orders. Roast beef and mashed potatoes with a mixed vegetable of some kind. I tapped Quirk on the shoulder.

"Quirk, your food is here," she snapped up.

"You's'a tryin' ta tell me dat Catch 'ere," she motioned to Catch with a fork she was holding somehow, "is givin' me mah potatas' back?"

I shook my head at her and Catch looked up from her plate. Her mouth was full and a little dribble of potatoes was on her chin. I pointed with my finger to my own chin when she undoubtedly got the point and rapidly wiped at her own, with her spoon still in her hand, with the back of her hand acting as her napkin.

"No, ya dipshit. Would Catch really do that? I just ordered ya a new plate. 'Ere. You want a pop?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. She nodded eagerly and quickly gathered her knife in her opposite hand. All traces of her being tired vanished. She had food coming.

Bruce popped our plates in front of us and I smiled graciously, handing him twelve cents, "Thanks, Brucey. Could ya spot us two pops, please?"

"Sure thing, Kid, comin' right up," he retreated back the way he came from and quickly reached under the counter to bring up two glasses. They were still cold and had condensation on the outside of them when he got them to us.

Both of us took big gulps and set our glasses on the table at the same time.

I ate like I had never had food in my entire life before. Let me tell you, that roast beef was hella good. And mashed potatoes being one of my favorite foods just added to the greatness of the day.

"Flor!" I heard someone shout from the other end of the table. I craned my neck over my food and a hunched over Catch. I think she was asleep…

I finally gave up in trying to see who it was from my sitting position so I yelled back, "Who da hell is it?" I dug back into my food and got some strange looks from the people not in our group. They aren't used to seeing and hearing 'ladies' swear in public… or really at all.

"Bull!" I heard him yell back.

I put my fork and knife back down on my plate, "What da hell do ya want Bull? Can't'cha see I'm tryin' ta eat here?"

"Wull… pardon me, Miss," he said standing, bowing, and tipping his cap. This earned a fit of laughter from our table, "I'se just curious, ya see? We'se all wonderin' on ya opinion on da best sellin' spots?" He sat back down, gaining a few slaps on the back.

I stood up then, "Can't this wait 'til the docks lata? I got food ta eat, ya dumbass," I sat back down, finishing what food I had left on my plate and downing my pop.

Bull shouted back once more, "Yeah, yeah, whateva da hell ya say, Florence."

I heard someone shouting back at him, "Jesus CHRIST! Ya are a goddamn dumbass! Ya know not ta call Flor by 'er full name! 'Da hell's wrong wit cha?" A smack on the back of his head soon followed.

I knew that something was going to come up soon, so I stopped it before it could, "HEY! FELLAS!" I yelled at first, then my impatience gave out and I whistled for them. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to face me, including everyone else in the restaurant, "Get your stinkin' money on the table, and go to the docks. We aren't startin' dis here," I turned to Bruce who was still behind the counter at his post, "Sorry about this all, Bruce. Let me know if not all of 'em pay, I'll take care of it then," I grabbed my hat from where it was hanging on the back of my chair and held it close to my chest, I turned my attention to the other people in the building as my boys were making their way out the door, leaving their money behind, "And I apologize to all of you folks as well. Please accept my apology," I tried my hardest to not use any newsie slang that I'd picked up in the years I spent at the boarding house, eight to be exact.

I nodded once more at Bruce and then pulled Catch and Quirk out the door of the restaurant with me, plopping my bowler on my head once more. They grabbed their own caps from their back pockets of their trousers and piled them onto their head as well.

This trio of ours gained some pretty weird looks as we marched down that cobblestone street. We didn't even bother to walk on the sidewalks, seeing as it was about seven now, the streets were relatively clear, except for the occasional couple or a few kids running around playing.

I stuck my hands into the pockets that I had made in my skirt; they were useful for change because you couldn't exactly carry it all around with you in your hands. I had a small pocket sewn into my bowler as well, but I only kept the picture of my mother in it.

The three of us didn't say much as we walked to the docks. It was going to be a clear night, I could feel it already.

We finally got to the dock that every newsie in Queens goes to. Hell, all newsies knew about it, or at least that's what we like to think. Catch and Quirk took off down the wooden planks as soon as we got to the very edge of it, shouting some see ya's and the like. I always enjoy taking my time getting to the end of the dock. I like to listen to waves lapping at the support beams, even sitting on the very edge with my feet hanging off. Sometimes others will join me, but more often than not, they're too busy jumping off the side into the filthy water or doing whatever the hell else the want to.

I heard shouts coming from the edge of the dock, along with some great peals of laughter and loud splashes. I only heard about two or three before someone came running towards me.

"How ya doin' Mous-" I started to say, rather calmly.

"Ya gotta go fa help. Catch's off the end, she can't swim neither," Mouse rushed out his words, he was out of breath from running so fast, "We're afraid she's gonna get pulled out, so we's ain't jumpin' in," he looked away from my eyes, shaking his head.

"Shit. Fucking SHIT. Alright, you get back down there and watch her, I'll be down. Try and talk to her, keep her calm. Make sure her head stays above the water, and if she even stays down for half a second, you better believe I'm ordering you to jump into that goddamn water and get her the fuck out," he didn't move, "Well what the fuck are you waiting for? GO!"

We turned on our heels at the same time, I moved back to the street and the merchant lanes, and he began to take off to the edge of the dock once more.

All of the shops were closed. No one is open at seven at night, but I saw someone walking under the streetlights. He didn't look familiar.

I took off running once more, "HEY! YOU!" He didn't stop walking, "NO, WAIT! YOU THERE! PLEASE! COME HELP ME," He stopped walking and pointed towards himself, "YES YOU DUMBASS, YOU. COME ON, RUN."

He finally got over to me, "You a good swimma, kid?" I asked him.

"Yeah, why?" We kept on running and finally got to the middle of the dock.

"You gotta help my friend, she's off the dock, in the wadda, the other idiots here don't want to jump in to hel-"

He took off. Sprinting would be a better word for it. I picked up my own pace and shouted to the guys, "HEY! YOU ALL! BACK AWAY, CLEAR A SPACE FOR THIS GUY! HE'S GETTIN' CATCH."

I barely had time to finish my sentence when he dove off the dock. Fully clothed except for his cap. They say a newsie's pride is in their cap, and I luckily saw that Catch's own was resting on top of a pole beside the edge.

The boy surfaced and swam to where Catch was treading and flailing slightly, he whispered something into her ear and then began to pull her in. She looked as relaxed as can be. Like nothing ever happened to her. Good reason I guess, the boy now pulling her out of the water was one hell of a catch in her own eyes. He was sopping wet now, but I bet that made him look even more attractive to her. His hair never fully left its curly state and his nose picked up at the very end. He was tan too. As tan as could be without looking… brown…? I guess that was the right word.

The easiest way to describe him would be to say that he was everything that Catch had ever dreamed of.

And then he took his shirt off.

Which made the entire situation just climb in the level of how much Catch enjoys it.

A few people took of the jackets that they were wearing and wrapped them around her as I pulled the mystery boy to the side.

"Alright, now's time for serious shit, who are ya and what're ya doin' here?" I crossed my arms in front of my body as he took a seat on one of the stray barrels. He loosened his boots and dumped the water from both of them, wringing his socks as he was at it.

"Me name's Mush, I'm from 'Hattan, newsie under da one an' only Cowboy. I'se just visitin' mah otha buddy, Spot. Spot Conlon. Leada o'Brooklyn. You knows how he sits at da docks? Just made mah way 'ere den. Den you called me, and now I'm 'ere," he wiped his face and began to put his shoes and socks back on.

"Nice ta meet cha Mush. My name's Florence. But only call me Flor. Leada o'Queens. You jus' saved one of my best friends. Her name's Catch. Newsie wit me an' da others ya see around here," I held my hand out for him to shake.

"You'sa newsie? Since when are 'dere goil newsies? Not dat I have anythin' against ya, it's jus' a new sitchiation, if ya get what I'm sayin'," He shook my outstretched hand, "Welcome, Flor. Welcome to da masses. Hey, uh," he looked back towards Cig comforting a shivering Catch on the wooden planks, I couldn't see how she was still shaking, "Do ya mind if I tell, uh, Jacky-Boy and maybe Spot 'bout dis? Jus' wanna keep the info'mation movin' if ya know what I mean. I mean, if she was pushed in, on poipose, 'dere might be some problems, but I can tell ya now, you got 'Hattan on ya side," he stood up and walked to were Catch was sitting, rubbed her back and gave her a slight hug. The clock chimed eight and he made his way past me again, "I'll tell Jacky-Boy 'bout dis. Spot too. 'Dere might be some runnas or somethin' comin' ya way soon. Might be somethin' 'bout a meetin' at Tibby's or somethin'. Nuttin' big. But hey, I gotta get runnin'. Hafta make it back to 'Hattan before da thugs get out," he took off running again, "See ya soon, Leada!" He tipped his hat and then ran off.

I turned my attention back to Catch, "Alright, someone's gotta carry her back to the boardin' house. Who's it gonna be? Extra ten papes for ya tomorra, courtesy of yours truly," a boy nicknamed Cane volunteered and carried her the way home.

I signed us all in and went to check on her and Quirk in our own private corner of the world.

They were both sleeping like logs.

I determined that to be my own signal and moved out to the washroom to wash my face and brush my teeth before going to bed. Cig and a few others had the same idea. Stressful day for all, I guess.

I finished up there and stripped down into my long johns. Don't gimmie that. It's perfectly okay for a girl to wear long johns. I even keep a camisole and women's underwear on underneath it too, so I don't want to hear it.

The feel of the cool sheets and pillow under my body touching my skin felt heavenly and I allowed myself to drift to sleep.