II.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind
Hannah Rosenthal had known Henrietta Fairbanks since the two of them were eight years old. They had once lived in the same tenement building, where they roamed the narrow corridors and played with dolls up on the rooftop, until Hannah's family moved to a new apartment a few streets over when a fire started in the kitchen and engulfed half of their belongings. Hannah was twelve at the time, and she would never forget the acrid smell of smoke in the air, or the pain of saying goodbye to the tiny home she had grown up in.
She continued to visit Henrietta after she moved, of course, and she supposed that the fire was a blessing in disguise because it led her closer to David Jacobs, and yet there was no use in loving David when she had seen him walk Henrietta home from school with her very own eyes. Henrietta, her dearest friend from childhood. Hannah wouldn't have believed it if the evidence hadn't been in front of her face, and she finally resolved that she would ask Henrietta herself if the schoolroom gossip about her and David was true.
All thoughts of David flew out of her head, however, when she reached Henrietta's apartment building and found her friend on the street holding a traveling bag, accompanied by a ragged boy wearing an eye patch, of all things.
"Henrietta?" Hannah asked, hardly daring to believe that Henrietta would wander about with a strange boy, and with her traveling things for good measure. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"
"Going for a stroll," Henrietta replied. "I'm afraid I don't have time to talk."
"Yeah, let's beat it," said the one-eyed boy. "Your pop might show up any minute."
"Wait," said Hannah, taking a step forward. "I only need a moment of your time, Henrietta. Can't you spare that much?"
Henrietta looked nervous, an expression that Hannah rarely saw on her face, but she beckoned to Hannah and took quick, almost frantic steps until the windows of her tenement could no longer be seen. "You can't tell my father that you saw me this morning," she told Hannah earnestly. "Promise me that if he asks you, you'll tell him that you never saw me, won't you?"
"I don't understand," said Hannah.
"Hannah, please."
"I promise I won't tell him a thing. But who's that boy you're with?"
"Name's Blink," said the boy, holding out the grubby hand that wasn't clutching a stack of newspapers. "You a friend of Henrietta's?"
Hannah refused to shake his hand and turned her attention back to Henrietta, regarding her with a sudden curiosity. "Then you aren't keeping company with David," she mused aloud.
"David?" Henrietta actually laughed, to Hannah's surprise. "Why would I keep company with boring old David?"
"But... but he walks you home from school!"
"And I wish he didn't. Believe me, Hannah, David Jacobs is the absolute last boy I wish to keep company with."
Blink looked like he was ready to drop his stack of newspapers all over the street. "Wait just a minute. David Jacobs has been walkin' you home from school? How come ya never told me?"
"Because he's never on my mind," Henrietta told him with a smile that made Hannah distinctly uncomfortable. "I've made my choice, and David certainly isn't it."
Hannah suddenly remembered the traveling bag in Henrietta's hand and the coat slung over one arm, which shouldn't be necessary if Henrietta was merely taking a stroll like she said. "Henrietta," Hannah said softly, taking an anxious step closer to her friend. "I do wish you would tell me what is happening. You're going somewhere, aren't you?"
"I'm running away with Blink," said Henrietta. "We're going to his lodging house for now, and then who knows where we'll be? Only you mustn't breathe a word to Papa or anybody else, just like you promised."
"Of course," said Hannah, nodding her dark head. "I won't tell a soul."
She hardly knew what to say. Henrietta had always been bold, even when they were children, and Hannah remembered how she used to stand off to the side while she watched Henrietta chase the neighborhood boys around. Henrietta had always been the outspoken one, the confidant one, the one who always knew how to get what she wanted, but through all the years of knowing her Hannah had never expected her to do something as rash as running away with a boy.
In spite of all her misgivings, Hannah couldn't help but envy Henrietta and Blink, for it was obvious that two of them were happy together. If only David... but perhaps she did have a chance with David, if she was bold enough to play her cards right.
"We better get goin," said Blink. "I still gotta sell, and we won't be eatin' a thing if I don't get rid of these papes."
"He's right," said Henrietta. "We really must go." The look she gave Hannah was partially apologetic, partially anxious, and she tightened her grip on her traveling bag as she moved closer to Blink. "Wish me luck?"
"Good luck," said Hannah, but as she watched the two of them walk away she realized that the luck wasn't for Henrietta at all.
It was for herself.
Jack sensed that Sarah was pulling away from him. Oh, she still smiled at him every time he stopped by for supper, and she always let him kiss her goodnight when her father wasn't looking, but you learned how to read people real well when you made your life on the streets, and Jack was learning to read Sarah like she was newsprint. Ever since David went back to school she had been a bit different, like responsibility was a big deal all of a sudden, and she wouldn't let Jack take Les out to sell papers anymore.
"Aw, come on, Sarah," he had told her just yesterday. "The kid thinks it's fun. Let him live a little before he's gotta work for real."
"Les is going to school," Sarah told him firmly. "He doesn't need a street education."
"Everybody could use a street education," he shot back. "The streets are out there, Sarah, and they ain't goin' nowhere. It don't matter how much fancy schoolin' ya get; sooner or later you're gonna be out in the world and you gotta know how to get by."
They went back and forth for what felt like ages after that, and soon enough Jack wondered if their argument was really about Les anymore. Jack Kelly was not an insecure kind of fellow, not at all, but as he sat in the Jacobs' sitting room arguing with Sarah he wondered if he really belonged in that nice warm home, with his rough accent and his poor clothes, if he really belonged with that perfect family, when he came from a background of thievery and lying.
But Jack Kelly wasn't insecure, and he shoved all those thoughts to the back of his mind and figured that Les was growing up, and girls always acted a bit crazy when the boys around them started growing up. It still didn't change the fact that he and Sarah had spoken harshly to each other, and Jack couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, but something was different between the two of them. For once in his life Jack supposed it was a good thing he worked seven days a week, which meant he could avoid Sarah for the entire day if he had to, and he avoided the direction of the Jacobs apartment as he did his selling.
"Love potion for sale!" a voice rang out. "Step right up, ladies and gents, and get your love potion! Five cents a bottle!"
Jack knew that voice and suppressed a chuckle as he approached Racetrack, who stood on a street corner with his usual stack of papers and a small crate full of bottles. "What are ya doin,' Race?" Jack asked. "This ain't your usual spot. What happened to Sheepshead?"
"Sheepshead'll still be there tomorrow," Race replied. "I'm makin' myself a profit here, Cowboy. Folks are buyin' these up like they're hot cakes."
"Love potion," Jack said disbelievingly. "Where'd ya get an idea like that from?"
Knowing Race, it probably had something to do with gambling debts. Jack remembered a year ago when Race ran into some trouble after losing too many card games, so he tried raising extra money playing his harmonica on the streets, and that was only one of many schemes he had used to get out of debt since Jack had known him. Race just smirked at Jack, unbothered by his skepticism, and held up one of the bottles he was hawking.
"This ain't no scam, Jack," he said. "There's a girl I know—they call her Flower—and she's the real deal when it comes to mixin' potions and whatnot. I owe Flower a few favors here and there, so I offered to sell her wares out on the street and give her a share of the profits."
"Huh," said Jack.
"Oh, you're laughin' now, but wait till ya see the dough it brings in. Six cents will get ya a pape and a love potion, a real bargain! Charm the love of your love and read the news all at once."
"Yeah, but I bet the potion don't work. There ain't no such thing as a real love potion, Race, and you know it."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Well lemme strike you up a deal, Cowboy. I'll let you have one of these bottles, no charge, and you try it out on whoever strikes your fancy. If the potion works, you owe me five cents, and if it don't work, then I owe you five cents." Race held out his hand to Jack. "Whaddya say? Is it a deal or is it a deal?"
Without even thinking about it, Jack put forth his own hand and spit-shook. "It's a deal, Race. Lemme have one of those bottles."
Race gave him the bottle that was still clutched in his other hand and immediately resumed his cry of, "Step right up! Get your love potion right here!"
The bottle was small, with a pink stopper, and when Jack peered through the murky glass he could see liquid of an indeterminable color sloshing around. "Love potion, eh?" he muttered to himself. "We'll see about that, Racey-boy."
And tucking the bottle into his pocket, he continued forward with his morning papers, calling out the headlines and wondering what would happen if he used Sarah to help him win the bet.
Hannah had been walking about in a haze ever since she discovered Henrietta and Blink on the street. How wonderful it must be to find a boy who was willing to run away, regardless of the consequences, and throw everything aside for love. How lucky Henrietta was, not only to find happiness with the boy she wanted, but to receive attention from two boys at once, for it was obvious that David felt seriously about Henrietta if he was willing to walk her home from school.
All her life, Hannah had tried not to be jealous of Henrietta's vibrant personality, her beautiful brown curls, and her petite stature, but now she couldn't help but realize that she wanted to be more like Henrietta, who always seemed to get everything she wanted. Hannah was always worried that she wasn't pretty enough, that she wasn't interesting enough, that nobody would ever love her when girls like Henrietta were out in the world, and it hurt knowing that David had set his eyes on Henrietta when Hannah was the one who had admired him since she was twelve years old.
She wasn't always the girl who purposely sat close to David at school, pining after a boy who gave her minimal amounts of attention. Not so long ago, after Hannah's family moved into the same tenement the Jacobs family lived in, David liked her enough to walk with her to the corner store to pick up ingredients for the evening's supper, and he even shared his books with her. He helped with her school work and told her he liked her hazel eyes, because he could never tell if they were going to look brown or green, and everything would have gone on perfectly if he hadn't dropped out of school, sold newspapers for a few months, and then returned to his studies.
David seemed different after he returned to school nearly two months ago. More grown up, like he had spent years selling papers instead of a few short months, and it was after he underwent this change that he started noticing Henrietta Fairbanks, who he had previously seen as a friendly acquaintance. But Henrietta loved that newsboy with the eye patch, the boy called Blink, and the sooner David knew about it the better off he would be.
In fact, if Hannah was the one who broke the news, she would conveniently be there to comfort him, and if luck was on her side David would forget all about Henrietta once he realized how much Hannah truly cared for him. Hannah may not be bold and extraordinarily pretty like Henrietta, but she had a brain in her head and knew how to achieve her ends without batting her eyelashes at the opposite sex.
Hannah returned to her tenement building and walked up an extra flight of stairs to the floor above her own, where the Jacobs family lived. Mrs. Jacobs, who had always welcomed Hannah into her kitchen for a bite to eat, opened the door and cheerfully ushered her inside, as if Hannah was an esteemed guest on a special occasion.
"David has been sulky all morning," Mrs. Jacobs said, turning a warm smile upon Hannah. "Your face will do him some good, I'm sure."
"I would hope so," said Hannah.
"Oh, I know it will. You're a fine young girl, exactly what David needs to cheer up. Go on, now, before he takes it into his head to go outdoors." Mrs. Jacobs led Hannah, who felt somewhat bewildered by this onslaught of encouragement, to the sitting room where David sat in a chair with a thick book in his lap, while his brother Les played with marbles upon the floor.
"Look who has come to visit you, David," said Mrs. Jacobs. "Put that book down and say hello."
David looked up from the pages in his lap and met Hannah's eyes, unable to hide the surprise in his face. "Hannah," he said, quickly turning his surprise into politeness. "It's good to see you."
"See, Davey!" Les crowed from his spot on the floor. "I told you!"
"Told you what?" asked Hannah.
"Nothing," said David, looking embarrassed. "Les, go play somewhere else."
"This is my favorite spot," Les replied stubbornly.
"Les, dear, leave these two alone," said Mrs. Jacobs. "You can play marbles in the kitchen."
Les looked mutinous, but he scooped his marbles up off the floor and carried them away, shooting furtive looks at David and Hannah over his shoulder as he left. Mrs. Jacobs beamed at Hannah, then bustled off after Les, leaving Hannah completely alone with David. "I apologize for dropping in so unexpectedly," Hannah began. "But I have something important to say."
David, who didn't seem terribly interested in Hannah's presence at first, sat up straighter in his chair and looked directly at her. "What is it?"
"I saw Henrietta this morning. She's running away with a boy."
Now David was definitely interested. "What boy? What do you mean, she's running away?"
"She had her traveling things with her," Hannah explained, her words coming out in a rush due to her nervousness. "And I spoke with her. She's running away from home, headed to the Newsboys Lodging House with a boy named Blink."
"Blink? Did he have an eye patch?"
Hannah nodded, feeling more anxious than ever at the partially confused, partially tormented look on David's face.
"Blink!" David repeated to himself, as if he could hardly believe it. "This can't be possible. Hannah, you must have misunderstood her. Why would Henrietta run away with Blink?"
Hannah moved closer to his chair so she could look into his eyes, and lowered her voice. "David, don't you understand? Henrietta loves someone else. She's running away with Blink so she can be with him, away from the judgment of her father. She told me so herself."
David stood up and Hannah thrilled at how close the two of them were, but he didn't appear to see her, or the book that spilled unceremoniously to the floor. "I'm going after them," said David.
"David, I don't believe that's a good idea—"
"You said they're headed to the Lodging House, didn't you? I'm not letting Henrietta run away until I at least talk to her, Hannah. I want answers."
"I already gave you all of the answers you need. She's gone from you, now, and there's no use in trying to get her back."
But David wasn't listening. He grabbed his cap from the hat stand, bid his mother a quick farewell, and walked out the door, bent on catching Henrietta and Blink before they could reach the Lodging House.
Hannah did the only sensible thing she could think of: she rushed out the door and followed him.
