Out in the Rain
1893
April 24
"Tragedy"
___________________________________________
"...don't leave me, all by myself..." the singsong voice drifted throughout the streets of Queens. Tragedy, in a rather literal sense, had struck, and there was nothing anyone could do. Now, one small girl stood atop the lodging house, singing out to the silent city and paying last respects to the leader of Queens, her older brother, Hawkins; Called so because of the small copy of 'Treasure Island" he carried with him.
Emerald, called so because she haled from the Emerald Isle, was the singing girl in question. She, with her long straight hair and turned up nose with a subtle sprinkling of freckles, at the age of ten, stood at a respectable height of four foot three. It was rather astounding that she could project such a large sound from such a petite frame.
She was Queen's princess and wherever Hawkins went, she wasn't far behind. The girl had been taught to throw a knife at age seven, learned poker at five, and had been living in the lodging house since 1887, age four, when Hawkins had been caught by a group of newsies as he was trying to pick pockets. The then leader, Switch, named for his eyes; one blue, one brown, had taken the two in, noting the resemblance between Hawkins and his little brother Tragedy.
Things had gone well and Hawkins had bonded with Tragedy, given their similarities. But when the duo had turned 13 in 1893 things went down hill. It was rather obvious that Tragedy and Hawkins, Hawk for short, were in the lead for territory leader when Switch retired. Switch had been leaning towards the rather brawny Hawk instead of his wiry brother. Hawkins had become leader, and after six months, Tragedy challenged him for the position. All Emerald could do was watch from the sidelines, and watch from the sidelines she did...when her brother was stabbed in the chest three times.
(______________________________)
"Dis is it Hawk...it cain't be like dis no moah," Tragedy yelled over the rain that had begun to fall.
"We cain't be friends no moah neither! You took what's mine, and now youah gonna pay!" He continued, glaring. Tragedy was a rather thin boy, with sandy hair and cold gray blue eyes. He was no doubt handsome, in that cold dark sort of way; but he was jealous. Above all things, he was jealous. And beneath the cold exterior that yearned for leadership and respect that rooted from something other than fear, there was a passion for one silver eyed girl who's words were far and few. He had done anything and everything to win her affections, but still, she stayed close to her brother and that stupid Jersey kid. Well, the thought came to him. If I'se cain't have her an' da leadahship, Is'll take dem both! And so he challenged Hawk, his best friend.
"C'mon Tragedy! I know yous don't wanna do dis!" Hawkins had tried desperately to call off the fight, but all efforts were unsuccessful.
"Youah wrong Hawkins!" Tragedy roared, unsheathing his knife. "I'se only ever wanted dis! And you ain't gonna stand in me way! Draw your damned knife!"
The two danced around each other, slowly circling towards one another. Hawkins on the defense, trying hard not to harm his best friend; but soon, Tragedy had swept his feet out from under him and placed the knife pointed to his chest. The fight should've ended there. It was customary that an opponent should only brought down, not killed. Hawkins smiled grimly at his sister, if that was the way it was done that was the way they had to do it. Then, things seemed to slow down as Tragedy raised the knife and plunged it deep into Hawkin's chest.
She had screamed, oh she had screamed. Her throat was raw from all of it. The second Tragedy raised the knife she knew exactly what was going to happen, and in that instant, she could do nothing but smile grimly as she saw her brother's last expression. An expression once generous, kind, smiling, wise, now distorted by pain. Tragedy had run the second the knife escaped Hawk's ribcage the third time, leaving the huddle of newsies and the broken form of the dead boy speechless in the rain.
Emerald leapt forward, but Jersey instantaneously grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She turned to peer up at him and screamed, it was all she could do. The screaming went on for what seemed like decades. But, the situation being what it was, no one complained or questioned it. It just...fit.
Soon, the rain began to let up, and another sound broke through the calm. Sirens, lots of sirens. The newsies began to scatter, taking assorted paths back to the Lodging House. Emerald simply stood there, and then, noticing something, she took three steps forward. Jersey had let her go, she needed to say goodbye. Emerald leant down and pulled the drenched hat from her brother's lifeless cranium, and then placing a kiss on his cold, strained countenance, she ran. Ran away from everything that was, and Jersey simply followed. This, also, seemed to fit.
(__________________________)
"No.." the distressed moan forced its self from between frozen lips as the small huddle atop the roof replayed the events in her mind. Over and over and over again, trying desperately to think what she could've done to stop it.
" 'Ey, Em?" a voice called from the window she'd used to climb out onto the roof. A muscular boy who had taken the leading position followed the voice. Though Tragedy had won the fight, no doubt, fear had driven him out of the city. His sandy hair fell into his laughing brown eyes and over his freckled nose as he flopped to a sitting position next to Emerald. From the huskiness of his voice, one would assume him to be at least 15, and one would be close too.
"Em, Tragedy ain't comin' back 'ere any time soon. 'E broke da rules and so, he cain't. It ain't no use sittin' up 'ere 'n gettin' chilled waitin' for 'im," The boy, Jersey, remarked, laying an arm about her narrow shoulders and lifting her to a standing position.
" 'E ain't da one I'se lookin' foah, Joisey," Emerald said before the two walked inside. "I'se lookin' foah 'Awk. You knows dat," He left her at her bed and pondered her words, torn up inside over the small girls pain.
"Em, don' you'se worry. Yous'll see 'im sometime 'gain, I'se promisin' ya's that 'un," Jersey always had something comforting to say, but Emerald paid it no mind as the repetitive sound of her brothers cries of pain rang out in her head as she slept.
____________________________________________
April 26
1893
"...Its a bittersweet symphony..."
___________________________________________
A gentle spring sun streamed into the lodging house through the large windows, wakening the newsies one by one. Groans, splashing of waters and yawns drifted through the air, muffling the sigh that had escaped chapped tiers of one continuously sullen girl.
"Joisey, I wanna go," she announced, standing and brushing off her attire: a fitting, gray, flannel, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants, topped off with her knife belt and Hawk's black hat. Jersey stood and pulled his black belt about his waist.
"A'ight, we'se goin'..." he looked at her questioningly when she didn't make a move towards the door.
"Dat ain't what I means," she said, resting her palm on the hilt of her throwing knife. It had been a gift from Switch when she'd first learned to throw. He's reportedly stolen it off a visiting China man. The hilt was silver-plated, and etched into the base of the blade, was a Chinese dragon. It was a beautiful weapon, yet one she never hoped to use.
"Well, whaddaya mean den?" Jersey questioned, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"I mean, I wanna go. I wanna get outta Queens, too much hoyt left 'ere," she
announced, glaring at the ground.
"Oh," the reply was whispered, he knew it was best, there was going to be a power struggle in Queens, and Emerald didn't need another death. That was for damned sure.
"D'you'se really wanna get outta Queens? Ah' you shuah?" he questioned, lifting her chin and peering into her eyes for any sign of regret at the words that came next.
"Yeah, I cain't stay 'ere, I just.... cain't," she spoke softly, inching away from his grasp and flinching when he began to reach for her.
"I t'ink...I t'ink I can fin' a place for ya, but you gotta prah'mis to be cahahful. Dese boys you'll be woikin wit', dey won' 'spect ya like we'se do," he gave a sigh of surrender, he had avoided it like a plague, but he had to send her to where she'd be the very most protected.
"Really?" her head shot up "You'se ain't kiddin', where'd ya send me?" she questioned, her voice echoing in the now empty lodging house.
"I'se gots a pal down in Brooklyn dat'd take you'se, 'is name's Dice Conlon. I t'ink you'd like 'im, 'e owes me a favoah anyways," and as simple as that, it was decided. Emerald was going to Brooklyn.
___________________________
1893
April 30
"C'mon baby role the dice!"
___________________________________________
Jersey and Emerald had set off that very moment. Making the long walk enjoyable by telling stories.
"Joisey? Why's 's guy owe ya a favoah? The boy slowed his pace and smirked at the memory.
(_________________________)
" 'e's a WHAT?" The flabbergasted remark reverberated of the walls of the Queens lodging house where a boy named Books, who had taken over the territory of Brooklyn spoke feverently and quietly to Switch. "Shh! Dey don't all gotta know!" Books replied fidgeting nervously, "'e's a mute, 'e dont talk." The conversation was taking place in the middle of a territorial war, being secretive was everything. "I cain't take 'im! I gots a territory t' look aftah! How da devil's da boy gonna hawk?" the other boy, bowed his head and sighed. "I dunno, get him a friend. Da kid knows how ta fight, he caint speak, but he's valuable," Books continued, desperately trying to get Switch to take the boy. "Well, I tink...maybe...'e might be okay wid summah da smahlah boys," The sun was beginning to rise and secrets thrived in only the dark. "Oh boy, Switch, you aint got no idea what dis means t'me!" Books leapt up and ran out the door, only to return three or four hours later with a small boy who had stringy black hair, silvery eyes, and no voice. Dice, as he had been named for his skill in the game, found refuge with Jersey. The two were perfect opposites and could move their fair share of papers in a week. After the territorial war however, Dice had to go back to care for his little brother...Spot.
(______________________)
A small smile crept onto Jersey's face as he told the tale, and soon they reached the pier, Dice's after-sale hangout.
"Pass woid cutie?" a burly sixteen-year-old directed at the small girl before him, she glared right up into his eyes.
"Get outta me way," she commanded, letting her arms hang akimbo and sending him a rather lazy look.
"But what if I don' wanna get outta youah way?" he continued harassing her as a dark figure moved stealthily up behind him, shoving him into the water. The boy was sixteen and had chin-length, stringy, black, wet hair. He towered above Emerald, but wasn't much taller than Jersey. He assessed the small girl with cold gray blue eyes that when looked into right, held a mischievous glint. Then nodded, looking up to Jersey and moving his hands in a rather odd fashion.
Jersey apparently knew sign language, for every time Dice signed something, Jersey would speak back. They seemed to be carrying on a rather long conversation. Emerald cleared her throat.
"Oh, eh, sorry Em." Jersey stated and after making a point of looking at her, he resumed his conversation with Dice, who nodded and jerked his head to the left,
" 'E says da lodgin' house is ovah dere someweah's," Jersey interpreted, casting his arm about her shoulders once more. The reality of what was happening had hit him, and he felt bad about giving her up, but it had to be done. She was in the leader's family, and once you killed a leader...
"Well, we bettah go, " Jersey announced awkwardly. Emerald looked up at him, her eyes full of fear. What if everyone in Brooklyn was like the first guy?
"Yous'll visit, won'cha?" she questioned, grabbing his sleeve. He pulled her into a hug.
" 'A course I'll visit you'se!" he comforted her, and then broke away.
Good-byes were said and through the group of soaking newsies, a ten-year- old was lead by a boy with no voice.
________________________________________________
All right! That was the first chapter of many. They all might have three or more (Or less) parts. All the quotes are just things I've heard. Most are going to be from songs. Please review, I wanna know what you think of my story! The next chapter will be out soon!
"...All by myself..." is pulled from the line "Lordy dont leave me, all by myself." - In This World - Moby
"Tragedy" - Tragedy - Steps
"...Bittersweet Symphony" - Bittersweet Symphony - the Verve
"C'mon baby roll the dice" - Three Small Words - Josie and the Pussycats
1893
April 24
"Tragedy"
___________________________________________
"...don't leave me, all by myself..." the singsong voice drifted throughout the streets of Queens. Tragedy, in a rather literal sense, had struck, and there was nothing anyone could do. Now, one small girl stood atop the lodging house, singing out to the silent city and paying last respects to the leader of Queens, her older brother, Hawkins; Called so because of the small copy of 'Treasure Island" he carried with him.
Emerald, called so because she haled from the Emerald Isle, was the singing girl in question. She, with her long straight hair and turned up nose with a subtle sprinkling of freckles, at the age of ten, stood at a respectable height of four foot three. It was rather astounding that she could project such a large sound from such a petite frame.
She was Queen's princess and wherever Hawkins went, she wasn't far behind. The girl had been taught to throw a knife at age seven, learned poker at five, and had been living in the lodging house since 1887, age four, when Hawkins had been caught by a group of newsies as he was trying to pick pockets. The then leader, Switch, named for his eyes; one blue, one brown, had taken the two in, noting the resemblance between Hawkins and his little brother Tragedy.
Things had gone well and Hawkins had bonded with Tragedy, given their similarities. But when the duo had turned 13 in 1893 things went down hill. It was rather obvious that Tragedy and Hawkins, Hawk for short, were in the lead for territory leader when Switch retired. Switch had been leaning towards the rather brawny Hawk instead of his wiry brother. Hawkins had become leader, and after six months, Tragedy challenged him for the position. All Emerald could do was watch from the sidelines, and watch from the sidelines she did...when her brother was stabbed in the chest three times.
(______________________________)
"Dis is it Hawk...it cain't be like dis no moah," Tragedy yelled over the rain that had begun to fall.
"We cain't be friends no moah neither! You took what's mine, and now youah gonna pay!" He continued, glaring. Tragedy was a rather thin boy, with sandy hair and cold gray blue eyes. He was no doubt handsome, in that cold dark sort of way; but he was jealous. Above all things, he was jealous. And beneath the cold exterior that yearned for leadership and respect that rooted from something other than fear, there was a passion for one silver eyed girl who's words were far and few. He had done anything and everything to win her affections, but still, she stayed close to her brother and that stupid Jersey kid. Well, the thought came to him. If I'se cain't have her an' da leadahship, Is'll take dem both! And so he challenged Hawk, his best friend.
"C'mon Tragedy! I know yous don't wanna do dis!" Hawkins had tried desperately to call off the fight, but all efforts were unsuccessful.
"Youah wrong Hawkins!" Tragedy roared, unsheathing his knife. "I'se only ever wanted dis! And you ain't gonna stand in me way! Draw your damned knife!"
The two danced around each other, slowly circling towards one another. Hawkins on the defense, trying hard not to harm his best friend; but soon, Tragedy had swept his feet out from under him and placed the knife pointed to his chest. The fight should've ended there. It was customary that an opponent should only brought down, not killed. Hawkins smiled grimly at his sister, if that was the way it was done that was the way they had to do it. Then, things seemed to slow down as Tragedy raised the knife and plunged it deep into Hawkin's chest.
She had screamed, oh she had screamed. Her throat was raw from all of it. The second Tragedy raised the knife she knew exactly what was going to happen, and in that instant, she could do nothing but smile grimly as she saw her brother's last expression. An expression once generous, kind, smiling, wise, now distorted by pain. Tragedy had run the second the knife escaped Hawk's ribcage the third time, leaving the huddle of newsies and the broken form of the dead boy speechless in the rain.
Emerald leapt forward, but Jersey instantaneously grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She turned to peer up at him and screamed, it was all she could do. The screaming went on for what seemed like decades. But, the situation being what it was, no one complained or questioned it. It just...fit.
Soon, the rain began to let up, and another sound broke through the calm. Sirens, lots of sirens. The newsies began to scatter, taking assorted paths back to the Lodging House. Emerald simply stood there, and then, noticing something, she took three steps forward. Jersey had let her go, she needed to say goodbye. Emerald leant down and pulled the drenched hat from her brother's lifeless cranium, and then placing a kiss on his cold, strained countenance, she ran. Ran away from everything that was, and Jersey simply followed. This, also, seemed to fit.
(__________________________)
"No.." the distressed moan forced its self from between frozen lips as the small huddle atop the roof replayed the events in her mind. Over and over and over again, trying desperately to think what she could've done to stop it.
" 'Ey, Em?" a voice called from the window she'd used to climb out onto the roof. A muscular boy who had taken the leading position followed the voice. Though Tragedy had won the fight, no doubt, fear had driven him out of the city. His sandy hair fell into his laughing brown eyes and over his freckled nose as he flopped to a sitting position next to Emerald. From the huskiness of his voice, one would assume him to be at least 15, and one would be close too.
"Em, Tragedy ain't comin' back 'ere any time soon. 'E broke da rules and so, he cain't. It ain't no use sittin' up 'ere 'n gettin' chilled waitin' for 'im," The boy, Jersey, remarked, laying an arm about her narrow shoulders and lifting her to a standing position.
" 'E ain't da one I'se lookin' foah, Joisey," Emerald said before the two walked inside. "I'se lookin' foah 'Awk. You knows dat," He left her at her bed and pondered her words, torn up inside over the small girls pain.
"Em, don' you'se worry. Yous'll see 'im sometime 'gain, I'se promisin' ya's that 'un," Jersey always had something comforting to say, but Emerald paid it no mind as the repetitive sound of her brothers cries of pain rang out in her head as she slept.
____________________________________________
April 26
1893
"...Its a bittersweet symphony..."
___________________________________________
A gentle spring sun streamed into the lodging house through the large windows, wakening the newsies one by one. Groans, splashing of waters and yawns drifted through the air, muffling the sigh that had escaped chapped tiers of one continuously sullen girl.
"Joisey, I wanna go," she announced, standing and brushing off her attire: a fitting, gray, flannel, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants, topped off with her knife belt and Hawk's black hat. Jersey stood and pulled his black belt about his waist.
"A'ight, we'se goin'..." he looked at her questioningly when she didn't make a move towards the door.
"Dat ain't what I means," she said, resting her palm on the hilt of her throwing knife. It had been a gift from Switch when she'd first learned to throw. He's reportedly stolen it off a visiting China man. The hilt was silver-plated, and etched into the base of the blade, was a Chinese dragon. It was a beautiful weapon, yet one she never hoped to use.
"Well, whaddaya mean den?" Jersey questioned, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"I mean, I wanna go. I wanna get outta Queens, too much hoyt left 'ere," she
announced, glaring at the ground.
"Oh," the reply was whispered, he knew it was best, there was going to be a power struggle in Queens, and Emerald didn't need another death. That was for damned sure.
"D'you'se really wanna get outta Queens? Ah' you shuah?" he questioned, lifting her chin and peering into her eyes for any sign of regret at the words that came next.
"Yeah, I cain't stay 'ere, I just.... cain't," she spoke softly, inching away from his grasp and flinching when he began to reach for her.
"I t'ink...I t'ink I can fin' a place for ya, but you gotta prah'mis to be cahahful. Dese boys you'll be woikin wit', dey won' 'spect ya like we'se do," he gave a sigh of surrender, he had avoided it like a plague, but he had to send her to where she'd be the very most protected.
"Really?" her head shot up "You'se ain't kiddin', where'd ya send me?" she questioned, her voice echoing in the now empty lodging house.
"I'se gots a pal down in Brooklyn dat'd take you'se, 'is name's Dice Conlon. I t'ink you'd like 'im, 'e owes me a favoah anyways," and as simple as that, it was decided. Emerald was going to Brooklyn.
___________________________
1893
April 30
"C'mon baby role the dice!"
___________________________________________
Jersey and Emerald had set off that very moment. Making the long walk enjoyable by telling stories.
"Joisey? Why's 's guy owe ya a favoah? The boy slowed his pace and smirked at the memory.
(_________________________)
" 'e's a WHAT?" The flabbergasted remark reverberated of the walls of the Queens lodging house where a boy named Books, who had taken over the territory of Brooklyn spoke feverently and quietly to Switch. "Shh! Dey don't all gotta know!" Books replied fidgeting nervously, "'e's a mute, 'e dont talk." The conversation was taking place in the middle of a territorial war, being secretive was everything. "I cain't take 'im! I gots a territory t' look aftah! How da devil's da boy gonna hawk?" the other boy, bowed his head and sighed. "I dunno, get him a friend. Da kid knows how ta fight, he caint speak, but he's valuable," Books continued, desperately trying to get Switch to take the boy. "Well, I tink...maybe...'e might be okay wid summah da smahlah boys," The sun was beginning to rise and secrets thrived in only the dark. "Oh boy, Switch, you aint got no idea what dis means t'me!" Books leapt up and ran out the door, only to return three or four hours later with a small boy who had stringy black hair, silvery eyes, and no voice. Dice, as he had been named for his skill in the game, found refuge with Jersey. The two were perfect opposites and could move their fair share of papers in a week. After the territorial war however, Dice had to go back to care for his little brother...Spot.
(______________________)
A small smile crept onto Jersey's face as he told the tale, and soon they reached the pier, Dice's after-sale hangout.
"Pass woid cutie?" a burly sixteen-year-old directed at the small girl before him, she glared right up into his eyes.
"Get outta me way," she commanded, letting her arms hang akimbo and sending him a rather lazy look.
"But what if I don' wanna get outta youah way?" he continued harassing her as a dark figure moved stealthily up behind him, shoving him into the water. The boy was sixteen and had chin-length, stringy, black, wet hair. He towered above Emerald, but wasn't much taller than Jersey. He assessed the small girl with cold gray blue eyes that when looked into right, held a mischievous glint. Then nodded, looking up to Jersey and moving his hands in a rather odd fashion.
Jersey apparently knew sign language, for every time Dice signed something, Jersey would speak back. They seemed to be carrying on a rather long conversation. Emerald cleared her throat.
"Oh, eh, sorry Em." Jersey stated and after making a point of looking at her, he resumed his conversation with Dice, who nodded and jerked his head to the left,
" 'E says da lodgin' house is ovah dere someweah's," Jersey interpreted, casting his arm about her shoulders once more. The reality of what was happening had hit him, and he felt bad about giving her up, but it had to be done. She was in the leader's family, and once you killed a leader...
"Well, we bettah go, " Jersey announced awkwardly. Emerald looked up at him, her eyes full of fear. What if everyone in Brooklyn was like the first guy?
"Yous'll visit, won'cha?" she questioned, grabbing his sleeve. He pulled her into a hug.
" 'A course I'll visit you'se!" he comforted her, and then broke away.
Good-byes were said and through the group of soaking newsies, a ten-year- old was lead by a boy with no voice.
________________________________________________
All right! That was the first chapter of many. They all might have three or more (Or less) parts. All the quotes are just things I've heard. Most are going to be from songs. Please review, I wanna know what you think of my story! The next chapter will be out soon!
"...All by myself..." is pulled from the line "Lordy dont leave me, all by myself." - In This World - Moby
"Tragedy" - Tragedy - Steps
"...Bittersweet Symphony" - Bittersweet Symphony - the Verve
"C'mon baby roll the dice" - Three Small Words - Josie and the Pussycats