Before I start, you need to know some things.
·I'm not from the UK. I've been there, and loved it, but I'm not a native. If you think my accents stink, e-mail me.
·Cathy is based on me. Some of her is what I wish I was like, other parts are me. I made her up. Some of the newsies, Disney owns. Don't sue me; I'm Newsies biggest fan! If you don't know whom I didn't make up, go watch Newsies. It's a good movie. I also didn't make up Cass (she appears briefly later in the story). My best friend made her up in a fanfic. I stuck her in my story. If you want Cass' story, e-mail me and I'll be sure to pass on the petitions.
·I'm a fan from the new millennium. If you newer fans want a site, tell me how to do it, get on your knees and beg me, and pray that I have time in my busy schedule.
·I've made an e-mail for newsie fans and for reviews of the story: (yes, I got a UK address. If you really want to know how, ask).
·I'm very romantic and dramatic. Please excuse the melodramatic and sappy parts. I also don't like messing with the original story, so Cathy didn't get Jack, whom I like better. But Dave's a better match for Cathy's character.
The Queen Mum
London, August 1899
"Please, siah, would you boi a papeh from a starvin young gir?" asked Catherine, trying her best to look starved and small.
"How many do you have left there, love?" replied the kindly businessman.
"T'ree, siah."
"I shall buy the lot. Here yew go, and, please, go fatten yourself up!" he said, pressing a coin in her hand and taking her bundle.
"'ank yew koindly, siah, an' God bless!" exclaimed Cathy.
"God bless yew too, little one," he answered as he strolled across the square.
I shall have to come to Trafalgar more often, thought the girl, watching him go. The people here are so kind. She glanced at the coin in her palm and smiled. It was a whole pound! Her papers were all gone now, but she usually pretended to be on her last papers, hiding what was really left. This trick sold papers faster and made more money, because kindhearted individuals bought "the rest" of her papers and usually didn't ask for change. Cathy, a petite 14 year old, never let herself eat much, which made her look starving and bumped up sympathy points--crucial to a newsie's survival. Besides, she was always saving her money for things, like a doctor for her newsgirl friend (the girl eventually died), passage for the girl's depressed brother to America (which was said to be "Newsboy's Heaven"), passage for her own brother to America, and, now, passage for her brother to come back or passage for her to join him. Deah Charly. I wondeh wot mischief he's up to now, Cathy thought as she swung up on a passing wagon, heading to join the gang at Covent Garden for lunch before the London Times came out with its afternoon edition.
New York, the same day in August 1899
"BOOTS!" yelled an old man directly under him. Charles bolted to a sitting position, narrowly missing the ceiling.
"Stop movin' so fast, ya bummah," mumbled his bunkmate.
"Pardon me, Skittery," replied the Brit, wide-awake and as polite as usual.
"Charly, 'ow can ya be so cheerful in da mornin'? Makes me sick," whined Kid Blink, the 16 year old on the top bunk next to his.
"I find it rawther easy. Ol' I tink of is Cathy an' 'er smilin' face, an' remembeh she's countin' on me," replied the 16 year old, unabashed of his feelings.
"You an' dat goil. It's almost as bad as Cowboy 'n' Sarah!"
"WHADDJA SAY, DIAMOND?!?!?!?!" yelled Jack protectively.
Charly laughed to himself as Jack, or Cowboy, and Blink's twin started a friendly scuffle. They shall neveh know she's me sisteh, he thought. If they did, she's so beautiful, they'd be vyin' for her hand woirs dan deh Garden chaps. 'F olly I could convince 'er ta eat more, den she could pass for a lady, or an actress, as deh chaps 'ere wod sai. He smiled to himself. The boys here certainly were odd! Charly splashed some cool, clear water over his face. It had been so long since there was more than just salt water to clean in, before the ship ride. THE SHIP! I shall 'ave to get me letter ta Robert today! He proceeded to run through his preparations for work and ran out the door before most of his roommates were even dressed.
London, later that day
"G'day, Mum," greeted a chorus of boys and several girls as she walked into the small London sandwich shop the newsie group patronized.
"G'day, me boys!" Cathy replied, laughing, as always, at their nickname for her. "Boys, boys! I shall 'ave to sit by meself if this continues!" she silenced the pleas for her presence at their tables. She headed for the counter to sit with her best friends.
"Ony news from Charly yet?" asked Carl, the proprietor.
"No. The boat won come fer a few weeks now." She fell silent thinking of him.
"Eh, make that out, lad. The 'ole place is gloomy 'en she is," Carl whispered to her neighbor, noting the silence in the previously rowdy crowd.
"She's loke or queen. We rely on 'er fer our ev'ry breath. We ol love 'er dat much."
"I wonder wot itll be loke won shes gone, den?" speculated Carl.
New York, later that day
Jack jumped on him the moment Charly arrived at the statue in front of the World building. He demanded to know where Charly had disappeared to before work.
"The warf," the boy responded simply.
"Whaaaaa? Why?"
"I was sendin a letter to a gir."
"Oh. DAT goil?"
"Cathy? Yes. She's gorgeous. I 'ave a mini-ature of 'er. She's loke the queen of the Covent Garden Newsboys. We rely on 'er fer our ev'ry breath. We ol love 'er dat much. I wonder wot itll be loke won she comes 'ere," Charly explained as he showed the group her little portrait.
"She's coming HERE?!?!?!?" Cowboy was mortified. He thought, What if she takes oveh de Manhattan Newsies? Da Brits may 'ave a queen, but it ain't American. Dese boys are already fallin over her.
"Gorgeous;" "What a heaven;" "Elle est tres belle;" "Like an actress;" "Wow;" "She's an angel," murmured the group over the stunning picture. David, the 15 year old selling partner of Jack, stared at the picture longer than the rest. He was enthralled. Never before had he seen such a beautiful girl! She looked so full of life and energy and intelligence.
"Elle est tu...uuu...she's your goil, right Charly?" inquired one of the most adamant admirers, at first reverting into his native language.
"Yes, Mush, she is," he replied.
David sighed and handed the picture back to Charly. Charly saw the look in the younger boy's eyes. He lokes 'er. 'e wod be the first I wod tell. I loke 'im the best. 'e is the most educated and polite. 'e remoinds me of Father. Charly quickly counted to days since the beginning of the strike against Pulitzer's price hike. David had just joined the newsies when it happened. Oly a month an' now 'es as good as Jack, 'oos been sellin' 8 yeas! Charly's thoughts were interrupted by the circulation bell. He ran to catch up to the boys and get a good spot in the line to buy papers.
London, sometime the next week
As he walked past Carl's Sandwich Shop, the bobby paused. He was a good friend of the Covent Garden Newsboys, and never before had he heard them so quiet. He decided to investigate. He walked in and directly in front of him was the emaciated figure of The Queen, Cathy.
"'ow do you do, Miss Catherine? 'ave yew..." he stopped abruptly as every single eye, except hers, was on him pleading him not to ask that question. "...sold many papehs today?" Bob quickly finished.
"No, I 'aven't 'erd from 'im. I sold some papehs today, to awnseh that superfluous question," she replied, for a moment remembering her wealthy upbringing and extensive vocabulary. She stood up and sullenly (and slightly snobbishly) pushed past the bobby on her way out.
"But, woait, Queen Mum! Yew 'avn't 'ad nothin' to eat!" exclaimed one of her boys.
Cathy replied, still in her "queen mood," as her boys called it, "And wot wod be the purpose of eating, Ethan?"
Flustered and blushing, he said, "To please yer brother for one, to stai aloive 'till 'e gets back, another."
"'er, miss. On th' 'ouse," Carl said, tossing Cathy her favorite sandwich.
"Thank yew koindly, Carl." She curtsied and said, "Gudday, me boys." And with that, she left. Carl strolled up to Bob.
"I neveh knew she ran this place more than 'er brotheh did, till one dai afteh he left, she comes a mopin' in an' every one else was as quiet as th' grave."
"I'll be sad to see 'er go, but she needs 'er brotheh, and I personally think she'll only be 'appy in New York," replied the bobby, shaking his head. "Wol I'm 'ere, I moight as well take one of yer shepherd's pie sandwiches," he added, his eyes lighting up with the prospect of Carl's most famous sandwiches.
New York, sometime that same week
"Hey Spot! Come outa dere! It's me, Jacky-boy! I gots someone for ya ta meet!
"CHARLY!" yelled someone behind them. The group spun and saw one of Spot's largest boys, Giant, barreling towards them. Mush immediately took cover behind Cowboy, as Kid Blink dove behind a crate. Race grabbed a nearby club and prepared to use it. Charly stood his ground, grinning from ear to ear.
"Yewr Majesty, 'ow do yew do?" had asked, bowing. The bigger boy just picked him up and swung him around, then proceeded to shake hands, Covent style (a shake, half hug, and spit over the other's shoulder).
"'Ow's da Queen Mum?" asked Giant, known to Charly as "His Majesty, The King of the Covent Garden Newsboys." Charly instantly reverted to Cocknish—a language invented by London street rats. It was really just Cockney, with bits and pieces of German, French, and Italian. Charly, using a language only His Majesty could understand, explained that Cathy would be coming soon, and that she was posing as his girl. The King, being one of Cathy's suitors, understood Charly's worry and liked this precautionary measure. The subject soon moved to others at the Garden that they knew. His Majesty quizzed his successor on their former realm.
As they talked, the other Manhattan Newsies crept out of their hiding places, wonder on their faces.
"How dey know each other?" questioned Spot, finally coming out of his shack where he was taking care of Brooklyn business.
"And how we supposed ta know dat?" retorted Blink.
"What I wanna know is what language dey's usin," Cowboy commented. All eyes turned to Race and Mush, the only foreign language speakers.
"'t'ain't French," Mush, the newsie from France, said. "Tho they use a woid now an' den."
"Same wi' Italian—dey use a woid, but dey ain't speakin' it," said Race, the Italian gambler.
The two Londoners soon realized that every pair of eyes in Brooklyn was fixed on them. They burst out laughing at the thought of what everyone must be thinking. This only served to vex the others more. Finally, the Covent boys had enough control over their laughter to explain how they met and what language they were speaking. After they were done explaining, Jack finished his business with Spot and the Manhattan boys returned to Kloppmann's lodging house. Giant promised to go to meet Cathy with Charly, just to help her feel more comfortable.
London, sometime the next month
Robert, the sailor friend of Cathy and Charly who had helped Giant (who was the brother of the newsgirl that died) and Charly in going to America, strolled into the silent sandwich shop. Cathy looked up from a table where she was playing Black Jack to see whom the newcomer was.
"Robert!" she screamed with delight. "Charly's not wi' yew! Is 'e awlroight? Or does 'e wont me to come to New York? Is there a letter? Oh, pleeeaaasssee, Robert!"
"'ave you eaten yet?" he said torturing her. "I'm not givin' you anythin' 'till you eat!"
"I 'ave, Robert, please!"
"LIAR! Yew 'aven't eaten' since Charly left!" booed the boys.
"Since Charly left?! I'm buyin' you an entire meal! Whadda want? Say, Carl? How 'bout a sandwich, soup, and a shepherd's pie for Cathy. I'll take a shepherd's pie," Robert said, shaking his head as Cathy blushed.
As she wolfed down her lunch (she was actually very hungry), Robert told Cathy all he knew about how Charly was doing. When she was finished, he handed her a crumpled envelope. All the noise in the shop ceased as Cathy tenderly opened it and began to read. Her face brightened with every sentence, as did all the boy's faces. When she was done, she burst out,
"I GET TO GO TO NEW YORK!" Cathy was just glowing and bubbling over with happiness. The boys tried to look happy and congratulate her without showing their sadness and longing. She saw straight through them.
"Wot? Yew don' wan' me to go? Yew're not 'appy for me?"
"It's just...we'll miss yew...that oll," explained Dodger, who would be "King" when she left.
"And I shall miss yew, too!" exclaimed Cathy, tearing up over the prospect. The boys moved in to comfort her, and soon they were laughing and being the normal rowdy group Carl was used to.
