I jist don't know want I'se is supposed ta do. I keep tryin' ta be someone I ain't. I ain't a beggar, an' I ain't a pick-pocket. I sure ain't da son me folks wanted me ta be. An' I ain't who da orphanage wanted me ta be. Or me aunt. Dat's why I ran in a foist place. Dey didn't want me unless I was who I ain't. I can't be who I ain't. So why do I keep tryin'? All I want is a place ta call home, a place where da folks dere ain't gonna hit me or kick me out 'cause dey want me ta be somebody I ain't. But what kinda place like dat exists in a city like New York? No place I could go ta. But dat's what I want. So I guess I'se is gonna look till I find it. It's gotta be here somewheres, right? Dere's a place for everybody, right? 'Cept me. Ise da kid nobody wants.
I was startled out of my melancholy thoughts by a voice.
"Hey kid! Ya alright?" A boy with brown hair was standing in front of me. "If ya need a place ta stay, ya kin come wid me. We'se got room." When I didn't answer, he pulled me towards him by my arm. I flinched back.
"Don't hit me!"
"Hey, I ain't gonna hit ya! I'se dealt wid enough of dat meself. I'se jist gonna bring ya home!"
"Ya don't want me. Nobody wants me." The boy gave me a small smile.
"Ya know, a lot of my boys said dat when dey got here. We kept 'em all."
"Buy I'se is different. Me folks don't want me, me aunt don't want me, da orphanage don't want me. Nobody wants me."
"Jist come home. Ya kin at least stay da night. It's gettin' colder." I nodded, still convinced they would send me away. Him and whoever his "boys" were. They wouldn't want me. Nobody did. "I'se Jack, by da way." He didn't say anything else until we reached a rundown building. We stepped inside and were greeted with a rush of noise. Laughter, chatter, bickering. Everything in between.
"Hey Jack! Who's dat?" A small boy with dark hair called across the room. All the eyes in the room turned towards me, more than I could count. All the noise stopped. My heart stopped with it. These boys already had a place like I wanted. They wouldn't want me too.
"I dunno his name. Ya got a name?" I shook my head. I couldn't speak or I would be overwhelmed. These boys had what I wanted, what I would never get. I could tell by looking around the room. They had friends. They had joy. They had laughter. Why would they want me to join in?
"Why don't we call him Knobs? He's all knees and elbows!" A tall boy with light hair called out to chuckles from the rest.
"Knobs it is. I found him on da street. Said nobody wanted him." Instantly, all the boys looked at each other. One stepped forward. He had a crutch under his arm and looked at me with pity and sadness. I knew want was coming. It happened every time. He would tell me that he was sorry, but I just wasn't welcome here. That there were enough boys. That I wasn't wanted.
"Hey. I didn't think anybody wanted me, either. Nobody wants a crip slowin' 'em down. It's different here. Dey want ya." I looked at the ground. That's what they were saying now. In a few days, they would give up on me too. Just like everybody else had.
"Kid. Look at me." I looked back at the first boy, Jack. "Dis room is full of kids dat nobody wanted. Dat's why we'se on da streets, sellin' papes, stead of in a home, wid a family. Jist stay a few days. You'sell see. It's different here." I could feel tears coming to my eyes. Didn't they realize that saying things like that only made it hurt worse when they finally realized they didn't want me? "Henry? Ya mind findin' Knobs a bunk? He kin decide in da mornin' if he wants ta stay an' sell or not."
"Sure thing, Jack." A boy about my age with dark hair and eyes walked over. He led me up a flight of stairs to a room with two rows of bunk beds. He pointed to one without a blanket or pillow. "Dat one good?" I nodded. They already didn't want me. Not even worth a blanket. At least, that's what I thought until he reached into a closet at the end of the room and pulled out a blanket and pillow and made the bed for me. He sat down. "So, Knobs. Ya thinks we don't want ya?"
"Nobody wants me. Dey all kick me out afta a while. So I run 'fore dey can." I looked at my feet.
"I was like dat. I ran from me folks when dey's started hittin' me, and from da orphanage when nobody adopted me, an' I even ran from da newsies a few time. But dey always found me, an' dey's always brought me back, so now I'se here ta stay. Dey want ya."
"Why should I believe dat dey's any different?"
"'Cause all of us has been unwanted before, or beat, or hurt. All of us, we'se da ones nobody wants. 'Cept we'se found each other, an' we wanted each other. So we'se stick together. We'se a family of da unwanteds. We ain't gonna leave ya or kick ya out, or not want ya 'cause ya ain't what da woild thinks ya should be. Stick wid us, and you'se is always gonna have a place ta call home. Took me a long time ta learn dat. Don't make da mistake of leavin' here. Stay. Dis is da place fer kids like us." Henry got up and walked to the door. "Knobs?"
"What?"
"Welcome ta da family." Then he walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Is dis da place where I don't gotta be who I ain't? Kin I jist be me? Kin I be...Knobs? I lay back on the bunk, my bunk, and drifted into sleep with only one thought running through my head. The last words Henry had said.
"Welcome ta da family."
Sometimes I really, really hate my muses. They send these random little thoughts that turn into things like this. I really should be asleep, as it's almost midnight here and I'm just sitting here writing and I need to be up for work at seven thirty tomorrow, but my muses wouldn't leave me alone. So out came the story of the little known newsie, Knobs, and how he came to the lodging house.