The Fortune Cookie Picaresque Novella!
Basicality: Creating one-shots from fortune cookie fortunes related to the newsies, with possibly other character guest stars. If you have a fortune and/or a person you want to see, tell me! I love this concept, so help and flames are appreciated!
Chapter 1: A short stranger will soon enter your life with blessings to share.
"Please? Someone? Please?"
The young girl with the dirty brown hair wandered down the streets, begging to the people who passed her by. "Please, missus? I don't got nothin' to eat."
The wealthy woman sniffed and turned her head away, clanking her cane down on the sidewalk, disturbing powdery snow as she went. The little girl looked at the woman's cloak and shivered in her brownish shift. She sent a longing glance and a pitiful last cry. "Please?"
The woman turned the corner, leaving the girl alone on the street. She sighed, and started trudging toward a more populated street. Glaring at her unshod feet, she turned the corner and promptly bumped into someone. She glanced up.
"Sorry."
It was a boy, about a foot taller than her eight-year-old frame, in a plaid vest with a gold pocket-watch chain. She put on a pitiful look and said, "Please, mister? I don't got no money for food. A dime in your pocket?"
The boy laughed, showing off his uneven teeth. "I don't even got ten cents, angel. But how about you come with me, and I'll see if I can't get you something."
She nodded in assent, her stomach threatening to come up her throat and grab her tongue. She would have preferred the money, but food was better than nothing. The boy smiled at her stomach's growlings and grabbed her dirty hand. He took off his outer coat and draped it around her shoulders. "It's a little place called Tibby's 'round the corner. Nice and warm for the both of us."
They started walking. The girl stopped about halfway down the block. "What's wrong, angel?"
"My feet hurt."
He looked at her feet and instantly picked her up, placing her feet beneath his vest. They were starting to tinge blue. "We'll be there soon, angel."
They were right outside the restaurant when the girl said, "You sure you don't got money on ya?"
"Angel-babe, I'm a newsie. You think I got any?"
She shrugged as they entered the back door to the kitchen. The boy kept carrying her, for which she was grateful. He talked rapidly with a woman in another language, then set her down near the stove with his jacket still wrapped around her. She sat Indian-style with her feet tucked under her thighs for warmth, and pulled the jacket tightly around her.
"Gratzi, mi amore." She heard a slight smacking sound then turned to find the boy there with a bowl of soup. He smiled at her and lit a cigar as she wolfed it down.
"Are you an orphan, angel?"
"No."
"Then why you out in these streets now?" One puff.
"Papa needs the money. I help him. He works lots, but we still don't have enough. We live in apartment with another family."
She had finished her soup now and was eyeing the empty bowl hungrily. He picked it up and gave it to the woman, who soon returned it full again. She took it and quickly slurped it down.
"Gratzi, mi Lindy. E ciao!" The waitress giggled at him and exited through some swinging doors. The boy put out his cigar and set it to dry out and cool down in a nearby can. He took her once-again-empty soup bowl and set it aside, then asked for her feet. She knitted her brow but did as asked. He quickly began to rub warmth back into them.
"I'll be walking you home now. Is that alright, angel?"
"Yes, please. Oh, and thank you."
He smiled as he grabbed his cigar back and put it in his pocket. "You're welcome."
As they arrived at her apartment, he set her down inside and asked for his coat back. "I know you like it, but I kinda need it too, angel."
She smiled and handed it back. "It's okay. It was yours to begin with."
He put it on, then searched through his pockets for something. He came up with some dollar bills, and gave four of them to the girl. Her eyes shone as she took it, then turned a confused face to him. "But I thought you said you didn't even have ten cents?"
"I don't. I've got more. Give it to your papa for me, alright?"
"Where did you get it?"
"Wherever I got it, it's better in your hands than mine." He touched a finger to the brim of his hat, then walked away. She ran upstairs with the money, all the while smiling at the blessing this short stranger was.