Whispers of doubt rang through his mind. It was something that had been troubling him ever since he was younger. Ever since he had gotten out of that horrible orphanage.
When he was five, his mother had gotten pregnant. His father was overjoyed, and took out a loan from the bank to remodel their humble little home, and add another small bedroom to it. His mother was beautiful normally, but with the excitement of the baby, she glowed with such radiance, that even strangers noticed it. Their dream was going to be fulfilled. They had talked about having two children even before they married, and now it was coming true. Whenever his father wasn't at work, he spent all of his time with his little family, and their love for each other grew steadily, until they all felt like they were going to burst over it. His mother certainly looked as if she was going to burst over it!
He could still picture his mother, with her golden curls held out of her face with a faded red bandanna as she swept the floor and sang like an angel. His father would wait, holding the dustpan, and just stare at her adoringly, just waiting for her to give him a task to do. They were a perfect family, as full of love as they possibly could be.
Then, with utter excitement, the day came. He was to become a big brother. The same midwife that was there for the birth of their son was there to make sure everything ran smoothly. But ran smoothly it did not. He never really did know exactly what happened, but his mother gave her own life in order to give life to the dream she had always wanted: a daughter.
She lived long enough to christen her pride and joy the name of Joan, after her mother, before her glow officially went out, leaving the room, and leaving their little world shattered and cold. Not even wanting to see his own newborn daughter, the father left the room, and was later seen down the street where he, after getting himself thoroughly drunk, shot himself in the head.
There was nothing that could be done with the two newly orphaned children than send them off to the orphanage. For Joan, it wasn't hard, because she hadn't known a loving family for more than an hour. For her brother, it was the worst experience possible. After the extreme trauma faded into sadness and despair, he made a plan. He knew there was a way to get out of their proverbial purgatory, where they had room to play. To his little five year old mind, it made sense.
He had the perfect time to sneak into the infant's room, and get his sister (who was now almost eight months old, and learning how to sit up.) from her crib during naptime.
There was always a certain time during naptime, that after the infants had fallen asleep, their caretaker would take herself a ten minute break, leaving them alone. Right after the woman left, he snuck into the room, and stood there, gazing at his beautiful sister, and her mop of golden curls that was forming. He rubbed her back to wake her up, and she grinned and cooed at him. He stood next to her crib, holding her hand for about five minutes before he reached in to pick her up.
As he did, he heard the sound of heels clicking down the hallway, coming towards the room. Pulling his arms away, he left her there as he scrambled to hide under her crib.
A wealthy looking man and woman, accompanied by one of the caretakers walked into the room, smiling at all the sleeping faces. The gurgling noises coming from Joan's crib caught their attention, and they walked over to look at her, and immediately fell in love.
He watched in horror as the woman picked up Joan, his sister and started talking to her.
"I think we've made our choice." The man said to the caretaker, who brightened, and shook his hand.
Looking at her clipboard, the caretaker said to them, "She was named Joan by her mother before she passed on."
"Joan?" the woman said, wrinkling her nose.
"Of course, you can legally change her name to whatever you wish!" the caretaker said quickly.
"Christianna Marie Ravensteen" the woman declared as they walked out of the room, with his sister.
Not knowing what to do, he went back to his own group, he figured he would come back and get her the next day during naptime.
The next day came, and he did the same thing, waiting for the caretaker to go on her break. Sneaking into the room, he went over to her crib, and found it empty, and stripped of the sheets, and it finally dawned on him. She was adopted. In those precious five minutes he had waited, he had lost her.
Grief stricken, he went along with the rest of his plan, which included sneaking out of the yard through a hole in the wooden fence behind one of the few bushes in the yard.
Eventually, he was found by one of the older newsboys, curled up in a ball for warmth, and his thumb in his mouth for comfort.
Being a newsboy wasn't too difficult for the sandy haired, boy with bright blue eyes, though living in the lodging house was hard for him to get used to. Before his parents died, there was no use trying to keep any secrets from his mother, she knew everything, so whenever he was asked, he spilled his guts, knowing that she already knew. At the orphanage, they were instructed to watch the other children, and tell the caretakers of anything that went on that shouldn't.
Soon, he learned that was quite the opposite in the lodging house. Being "told on" was an extreme injustice, and was never used. Even though he hadn't "told on" anyone for over ten years, they still called him Snitch.
For the first few years, every blonde head of hair he saw, his heart stopped. In every baby carriage that passed him by, he looked in, expecting to see the blue eyes of his baby sister staring back out at him. Then he realized one day that she was no longer his baby sister. She was five years old. The same age he was when he left that orphanage. His heart broke as he realized that he would never recognize her, even if he saw her.
As he stood against the wall, counting out the days and the years, he realized that since he was seventeen, she was twelve. He could still hear her cooing and giggling as he pictured her laying on her back, kicking her legs, and drooling all over herself in excitement to see him. When the giggling he heard turned to crying, he snapped out of his thoughts, and realized that he was hearing someone else's baby. It was most likely someone living in the apartment building he was leaning on, maybe their window was open.
He stood there, collecting his thoughts and clearing his head, and realized that the crying wasn't stopping, and in fact, sounded louder. Hearing something rattle back in the alley, Snitch walked in, expecting to see a cat, or even a large rat. What he did not expect to see was tears running down the chubby cheeks of a blonde, curly haired, blue eyed baby that looked like it had just fallen out of the basket it had been lying in.
At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. For a split second, he thought he was hallucinating, and he was picturing his sister lying there, but with the exception of the blonde hair, this baby looked different. The blue he remembered in his sister's eyes was much darker than in this baby's. He didn't even know if it was a girl or boy, since it was dressed in a nondescript white, ragged unisex baby outfit. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over, and gingerly picked up the crying infant, and cuddled it into his chest.
After rummaging, one handed through the basket, and finding nothing other than rags, he turned, leaving the basket with one broken and frayed side, with the stained cloths inside, and headed back to the lodging house, cradling the small child in his arms.
The infant looked up at him in wonder, tears still glittering on the ends of it's long eyelashes.
Tumbler sighed. He was bored! He had resigned to draping himself across the steps of the lodging house, trying to think of something to do. He couldn't find Les to play with, and Itey and Boots were mad at him, so he was staying clear of them for a while. As he gazed down the sidewalk, he noticed Snitch walking towards him, with something in his arms.
"Wha's dat, Snitch?" Tumbler asked.
"It's a baby, kid, aint you evah seen one of dem before?" Snitch asked him as he walked up the steps and in through the door.
Jumping up, and scurrying behind him, Tumbler asked, "Are you sure, I thought that babies wore bright colors, and bonnets, and sat in pruhbamilul-laters!" he said, stumbling over the last word.
"I think you mean perambulator, and that's not what makes a baby." Snitch said before he called out into the lodging house, "Kloppman!" and sat the baby up on Kloppman's desk to look at it.
Tumbler stood next to Snitch, and asked, "Is it a girl baby, or a boy baby?"
Coming out from his room, Kloppman asked, "What? Oh. Whose baby?"
"I don't know yet, Tumbler." Snitch told him, "Go outside and play for awhile, alright?"
With a sigh of disappointment, he dejectedly turned and walked outside.
Kloppman leaned over and held the baby's hand, and said "Hello kid."
"Where'd you find him… or her, which is it?" Kloppman said, straightening
With a shrug, Snitch said, "I don't know, it was in an alley, in a basket of rags."
"Well, judging by the smell this little ones in, I think it's a good time to find out." Kloppman said.
With a look of horror, Snitch asked, "Do you know how to change a diaper?"
"Sure thing, I had three children back in my day."
After finding a rag suitable to use as a diaper, they found out that the baby was a girl. They wrapped her in a blanket, and Snitch sat one of the bunks upstairs and held her as Kloppman tried to wash the stains out of her clothes in a washbasin.
"What are we going to do with her?" Snitch asked Kloppman.
"Well, I suppose we have two choices. Since it seems to me that she was abandoned, we can either hand her over to the orphanage…"
Snitch's face contorted with pain and horror, and he shook his head no.
"… or we can keep her here until we can find a nice family to take her in." Kloppman finished.
With a compassionate look on his face, Snitch nodded. "I wouldn't even send the Delanceys to that orphanage."
"Alright then," Kloppman said as he wrung out the still dingy clothes, and hung them on the clothesline that was strung up across the ceiling of the washroom. "You stay here, and I'll go to the market and buy her some things. She'll need a bottle, and some milk before too long, along with some other clothes."
"What am I supposed to do?" Snitch asked, looking back and forth between Kloppman and the baby.
"Just hold her, and think of something to call her." Kloppman said over his shoulder as he walked out of the bunkroom.
Partly because of the fact that Tumbler is really good at spreading rumors, and partly because it was about time for everyone to start coming back home, the lodging house filled up soon after Kloppman left. Snitch was relieved of his baby holding duties, as everyone wanted a turn holding her.
Racetrack holding her, said, "Here, Rugrat, play with this." He told her, handing her his cigar to hold.
"You can't give that to a baby!" Jack protested, taking her from Racetrack. "What were you thinkin'?" Jack cradled her in his arms, and held her close, and informed Race, "You have to hold her gently, like this."
She cooed and giggled at Jack, and grabbed his bandanna, and yanked on it, not letting go for anything. "Ah, a little help?" Jack asked the nearest person to him, so Bumlets pulled her away from his bandanna.
Bumlets got a look of alarm on his face as he held the squirming infant out in front of him with both arms. "What do I do?" he asked, getting a laugh out of everyone, especially her, she giggled and kicked her legs in excitement.
"Give 'er here." Skittery ordered, pulling her out of Bumlets outstretched arms, and held her on one hip like he'd done it all his life.
Upon getting weird looks from everyone, Skittery explained, "I had little brothers…" before averting his eyes to the blonde lock of hair that he was brushing out of her eyes.
"Guys, she needs a name still." Snitch reminded them.
"Lil' Bit sounds good to me." Jack said.
"How about Rugrat?" asked Snoddy.
"I say Half-Pint." Race said, tickling her under her chin, and wiping the baby drool on his trousers that was collected there. "For her size, and the amount of spittle she makes."
"No." Snitch shook his head, "She needs a real name too. You can call her by any nickname until she's old enough to choose, but she needs a real name… Like Ann, or Lucille, or Deborah, or something!" Snitch said emphatically.
"All those names are too big." Jack protested. "Lil' Bit' is just the right size for her."
"Lil' Bit isn't a real name though." Snitch reminded him. "You've got a real name, Jack."
"We could say her real name is Lil. That's a real name" Jack said impatiently.
"No, I disagree." Skittery said.
"Yeah," Snitch confirmed, "Lilly is a name, but Lil is just short for something."
There was a chorus of "Sounds good to me, sure, alright." around the room, and Snitch picked up the newly named Baby from Skittery's arms, and told her. "Lilly, that's your new name, what do you think?"
She responded with a laugh, and grabbed his nose.
A/N: A lot of good encouragement comes from reviews! hint, hint