I sat out there on the railing of the Brooklyn Bridge, almost waiting for someone to push me off. I look down into the River that flows beneath the bridge, the chunks of ice almost yelling out my invitation.

Heavens not enough...

But I don't belong in heaven... I don't even belong here. I swung my legs over the railing and hopped off, walking towards Brooklyn.

If when you get there, it's just another blue...

There's nothing for me in Brooklyn. It's all back home... Back in California. I never let anyone know where I was from. They would get suspicious for some reason or another.

And Heavens not enough...

I had a heaven back home. I had a life. But that's over now. I can't go back. Not after what I left. They would never forgive me. They lost me... I lost them...

You think you found it and it loses you...

But what if I did go back? Would they forgive me? I just left the bridge... better take the shortcut so no one sees me out after dark...that could mean trouble. I feel something hit my head, and look up to have a raindrop fall in my eye. I rub it away.

You thought of all there is... but not enough...

Over and over in my head, I wonder what everyone's doing back home. Tod, and his woodwork. Michelle and her paintings. And all the while I think of them, I bet they've long forgotten me. But that's ok. It doesn't hurt as much as if first did. Everyone forgets me... eventually.

And it loses you, in a cloud.

Rats scuttle over my feet as I walk through an alley, kids who weren't able to sell enough papers sleep in boxes, covered in moth-eaten potatoes sacks. One of them turns over in his sleep to face me and I look at him. He looks so much like Daniel; it's kind of scary. I walk over to him and watch him sleep, the burlap of the potato sack slightly ruffling each time he breathes out. I reach out to stroke his hair, but he turns away from me, and I fear he might wake up, so I leave him to his nightmares.

There, most everything is nothing and it seems...

I turn the corner out into open streets and see the most amazing thing... it's Tod, hammering the wood boards onto a wall, and Michelle capturing the joy of Sarah and Michael in a painting as they play in the road. I stand there, awestruck, but as the last light from the last house on the street fades, so does the image, and I am left alone once again.

Where, you see the things you only want to see.

I turn away and walk, head down, towards 22nd street. The street that the Brooklyn Lodging house is on. I sell enough to stay there, but not quite enough to take care of myself. Across the street from it is the biggest house I've ever seen. It houses some rich fellow, his wife, and kids.

I'd fly away, to a higher plane, to say words I'd resist, to float away, to sigh, to breathe, forget...

There was a house like that in my old town. Mama worked there, as a cook. She deserved it too; she was the best cook around. You should always look both ways before you cross the street, Mama. Obey your own rules next time... but... there won't be a next time. You're gone. So am I. We both left Papa. I left Daniel, also.

Heaven's not enough...

I bet Daniel's gone too... Everyone was fading in that old town... that was part of why I had to get away... I didn't want to fade like everyone else.

If when I'm there I don't remember you...

If he's not gone, I'm sure he and Michelle are in love. I always knew she loved him... I just loved him first. A bit childish, we always where... fighting over Daniel like that... I still don't see why she couldn't have Tod. He was just as nice as Daniel.

And Heaven does enough...

Tod and Daniel were best friends... like brothers maybe. Daniel worked on those new cars; Tod made the garages to hold them.

You think you know it and it uses you...

Michelle and I however, where complete opposites, but still best friends all the same. Michelle always had something to do... me... it was always looking after the barn. No wonder she thought she had more of a chance with Daniel then I did. Her, the pretty, clean, happy schoolgirl. Me, the dirty, mellow, impolite farmhand. I couldn't see myself as a farm hand forever... I needed more... that was another reason that I left.

I saw so many things, but like a dream...

I wonder why they don't come here, try to find me. They wont... I know... no one misses me. How could they... after I left them all alone with out a goodbye or a why or anything to let them know I'm sorry for leaving them. I wasn't at the time. But now I could drown in my sorrow, it's hardly suppressed inside me.

Always losing me... In a cloud...

My foot connected with an empty beer bottle and stepped on a used cigarette. I smiled at the pair. They were possibly my only friends. I don't know how kids got a hold on them here, but only the richest people back home had them. They were my saviors... they took me away... made me forget... for at least a while...

Cause I couldn't cry,

Cause I turned away,

Couldn't see the score...

I'm surprised at myself that no one had told me to come here, that it was my own decision, that was concocted in my head, I made me do the worst decision of my life. If I could go back I would... but people know me now, and it's harder to get away in this place.

Didn't know the pain of leaving yesterday really far behind.

I really should stop thinking about my past. It's not good. It makes Spot worry about me, and I don't need anyone to worry... I just end up hurting them and I've hurt enough people, and no more people deserve to be hurt. The Lodging house is just ahead. The last of the drunk Newsies stumble into the Lodging house to rush up to the bathrooms and the sinks. I follow the last one and walk up the stairs.

In another life,

In another dream

By a different name,

Gave it all away

For a memory

And a quiet life

There are pictures on the walls of each Newsie who stays, and has ever stayed, in the lodging house. Like collages to help us remember those who have moved on to other jobs and other places. None of them will be forgotten in the eyes of the Head of the Lodging house. There's one Newsie who has the whole wall dedicated to him. I think he was the leader before Spot, but I wouldn't know... I don't really know anything. There are a few pictures of me with some of the Boys from the Lodging House. Us playing poker and smoking, a Newsie named Blue and I selling papers, and a collapsed human pyramid of Newsies laughing. I look much happier in those pictures... but then again I wasn't thinking about my past.

And I felt the face, of a cold tonight,

Still don't know the score,

But I know the pain, of leaving everything really far behind.

I walk into the bunk rooms and watch the Newsies who are still awake play poker for their daily earnings, and other things that might be of value. Blue and Spot waved to me and continued playing their game. Knight was sleeping in the bunk below mine, and Sure-Thing, was sitting on the floor next to his bunk, she told him sweet stories of comforting families in far away farie-tales. I climb up to my bunk and see something on my pillow. I reach for it and it turns out to be a letter.

And if I could cry

And if I could live

What truth I did then take me there...

There is no address on it, just my name. I open it, and start to read it.

Hey there stranger,

I don't know how this letter's going to get to you, but I know that it will, some way or another.

We miss you back at home, and we wonder where you are. If you're even still alive. Your Pop's given up looking for you, and when Michelle tells Sarah and Michael that you'll be back any day to play with them again, he discourages them and tells them 'she won't never come back.' ... Is that true?

Without you or your mother here, the town is pretty dull. Tod and I have started our own Automobile garage, for fixin's and repairs. Michelle and Tod are going together now. My Ma' tells me they'll be engaged any week now. We'd really like it if you could come back for the wedding... if you can.

No one back here has forgotten you, and we pray for you everyday, hoping you're all right, and that you're getting by. We hope you haven't forgotten us either, and that your prayin' for us. Your dog Fetcher still sleeps in front of your door... but your Pop nailed it up a few months ago.

You'll think me a fool for saying this.. But I still love you... after the years you've been gone. You'll say I should move on and find myself a better woman, but I can't. Because there ain't no one better then you.

I hope you can come back someday,

Love truly,

Daniel

I look at this letter with love and regret, and truly love Daniel too. And I truly wish I could go back, but I can't go back to my past.

Heaven Good-Bye...

Hello, My name is Jazz.