1 Chapter 1 – A Funeral and an Eviction
2 January 1900 – Boston
Rain pounded down on the solitary girl as she stood beside an open grave and watched the cheap casket being lowered into the ground. She was seventeen years old with red hair and green eyes. She had a full-figure like many women of her time but stood taller than most women and some men. Her name was Katherine 'Cat' O'Dell.
The man that had been her mentor for the last eight years was in that box but try as she might she felt no sympathy – no emotion what so ever. Bill Grady was dead, killed by his right hand man. That was the way it went in this business; you either watch your back or you were dead. There was no honor among thieves. But that still didn't make it right.
As the casket reached the bottom of the grave, Cat turned and walked away, she had done what she had seen as her duty. He may have been a slimy weasel but she owed it to him to see that he was taken care of in the end. She had come out of a sense of duty; he had saved her life and given her a place to stay for the last eight years. Now that she had seen him safely buried underground she had fulfilled that duty and headed back to the only home she had ever known: a thieves' den in the heart of Boston. As she walked into the underground hideout, all talking and movement halted. When she was recognized everyone went back to work sorting through their new 'found' goods.
Cat went to a partitioned corner and changed out of her skirt into a pair of pants. She detested skirts and only wore them when work or duty called for them. In this case it had been duty. She walked out into the main part of the room.
"Well, hello, there Kitty Cat," one slimy looking thief said. He was a disgusting looking man named Jim Harvey. He had been Bill Grady's second-in- command until three days before when he had stabbed Bill in the back, literally. "Where have you been?"
"Bill's funeral," she said, defiantly. Another hush fell over the room; everyone waited to see what Jim's reaction would be.
"You wasted a whole day on that! I hope you have something of value for me," he said.
"No, I have nothing for you. I won't steal for a nasty worm like you. You're a bastard and you're a killer," she said in a disgusted tone. The room went completely still as everyone waited to see Jim's reaction. Jim's eyes hardened and he slapped her brutally across the face, snapping her head to the side. She turned back to face him, her gaze still rebellious.
"I suggest you run, little girl. You run far and you run fast, because if I ever catch you around here again, then I will kill you, but not before I have a little fun with you. Now get off my turf," Jim commanded in a sinister voice. "Don't bother trying to collect your things, nothing here belongs to you. You're lucky I'm letting you take the clothes on your back."
Cat stood there and considered defying him and gathering her things, but she had never had anything worth more than a couple of cents. With one last look at the dump that had been home for thirteen years, Cat turned and walked out the door.
***
Later that night after the rain had finally stopped, Cat walked down an alley between two run down buildings. She looked left and right as if searching for someone.
"Mouse? Are you here?" she called out. "Come on out, Mouse. I know you're here."
A small figure materialized at her elbow.
"Oh, there you are Mouse! Where were you?" Cat demanded. The girl just smiled.
At five foot two Mouse was eight inches shorter than Cat. She had black hair and eyes, and along with her skin tone and high cheekbones it was obvious that one of her parents had been an Indian. Cat had nicknamed her Mouse because she was as quiet as one, she could walk almost silently and she rarely spoke. In fact the only person she talked to was Cat.
"So, Mouse, what have you been doing lately?" Cat asked, realizing that she wouldn't get an answer from the girl about where she had been hiding.
"Hiding from Ms. Beasley. You?" Mouse asked. Ms. Beasley was the woman who ran the orphanage that Mouse lived in.
"Went to Bill's funeral. I was the only one there. When I went back to that hole, Jim kicked me out and told me to leave town. I guess I might as well, nothing for me here," Cat answered with a shrug. She paused then continued, "You want to come with me?"
Mouse thought for a minute and then slowly nodded her head. There was nothing left for her in Boston. The orphanage was run like so many of those unfortunate establishments, corruptly. The children had hardly any food to eat and what they got was old, moldy and watered-down.
"Where do you want to go?"
Mouse shrugged.
"How about New York? I've heard good things about it," Cat told her, a harsh glint coming to her eyes. Mouse nodded her head. "I just need to find Ashes. He'll want to come with us."
***
Cat and Mouse walked down another alley several blocks away.
"Ashes! Come on out. It's us. We're going to New York wanna come?" Cat suddenly heard a rumbling noise to her right. Standing on a small stack of crates was Ashes. The dark gray tomcat stood there looking at her condescendingly.
"Hey there, buddy. I got you a piece of tuna," she said, pulling the scrap out of her pocket. "Here you go."
The cat bounded down from the boxes and began to tear into the piece of fish. Cat stroked his coat while he ate. "So are you coming with us? Do you want to try out New York?"
The cat butted his head against her hand, seeming to agree to go. The three of them walked out of the alley and down the street for one last look at Boston.
2 January 1900 – Boston
Rain pounded down on the solitary girl as she stood beside an open grave and watched the cheap casket being lowered into the ground. She was seventeen years old with red hair and green eyes. She had a full-figure like many women of her time but stood taller than most women and some men. Her name was Katherine 'Cat' O'Dell.
The man that had been her mentor for the last eight years was in that box but try as she might she felt no sympathy – no emotion what so ever. Bill Grady was dead, killed by his right hand man. That was the way it went in this business; you either watch your back or you were dead. There was no honor among thieves. But that still didn't make it right.
As the casket reached the bottom of the grave, Cat turned and walked away, she had done what she had seen as her duty. He may have been a slimy weasel but she owed it to him to see that he was taken care of in the end. She had come out of a sense of duty; he had saved her life and given her a place to stay for the last eight years. Now that she had seen him safely buried underground she had fulfilled that duty and headed back to the only home she had ever known: a thieves' den in the heart of Boston. As she walked into the underground hideout, all talking and movement halted. When she was recognized everyone went back to work sorting through their new 'found' goods.
Cat went to a partitioned corner and changed out of her skirt into a pair of pants. She detested skirts and only wore them when work or duty called for them. In this case it had been duty. She walked out into the main part of the room.
"Well, hello, there Kitty Cat," one slimy looking thief said. He was a disgusting looking man named Jim Harvey. He had been Bill Grady's second-in- command until three days before when he had stabbed Bill in the back, literally. "Where have you been?"
"Bill's funeral," she said, defiantly. Another hush fell over the room; everyone waited to see what Jim's reaction would be.
"You wasted a whole day on that! I hope you have something of value for me," he said.
"No, I have nothing for you. I won't steal for a nasty worm like you. You're a bastard and you're a killer," she said in a disgusted tone. The room went completely still as everyone waited to see Jim's reaction. Jim's eyes hardened and he slapped her brutally across the face, snapping her head to the side. She turned back to face him, her gaze still rebellious.
"I suggest you run, little girl. You run far and you run fast, because if I ever catch you around here again, then I will kill you, but not before I have a little fun with you. Now get off my turf," Jim commanded in a sinister voice. "Don't bother trying to collect your things, nothing here belongs to you. You're lucky I'm letting you take the clothes on your back."
Cat stood there and considered defying him and gathering her things, but she had never had anything worth more than a couple of cents. With one last look at the dump that had been home for thirteen years, Cat turned and walked out the door.
***
Later that night after the rain had finally stopped, Cat walked down an alley between two run down buildings. She looked left and right as if searching for someone.
"Mouse? Are you here?" she called out. "Come on out, Mouse. I know you're here."
A small figure materialized at her elbow.
"Oh, there you are Mouse! Where were you?" Cat demanded. The girl just smiled.
At five foot two Mouse was eight inches shorter than Cat. She had black hair and eyes, and along with her skin tone and high cheekbones it was obvious that one of her parents had been an Indian. Cat had nicknamed her Mouse because she was as quiet as one, she could walk almost silently and she rarely spoke. In fact the only person she talked to was Cat.
"So, Mouse, what have you been doing lately?" Cat asked, realizing that she wouldn't get an answer from the girl about where she had been hiding.
"Hiding from Ms. Beasley. You?" Mouse asked. Ms. Beasley was the woman who ran the orphanage that Mouse lived in.
"Went to Bill's funeral. I was the only one there. When I went back to that hole, Jim kicked me out and told me to leave town. I guess I might as well, nothing for me here," Cat answered with a shrug. She paused then continued, "You want to come with me?"
Mouse thought for a minute and then slowly nodded her head. There was nothing left for her in Boston. The orphanage was run like so many of those unfortunate establishments, corruptly. The children had hardly any food to eat and what they got was old, moldy and watered-down.
"Where do you want to go?"
Mouse shrugged.
"How about New York? I've heard good things about it," Cat told her, a harsh glint coming to her eyes. Mouse nodded her head. "I just need to find Ashes. He'll want to come with us."
***
Cat and Mouse walked down another alley several blocks away.
"Ashes! Come on out. It's us. We're going to New York wanna come?" Cat suddenly heard a rumbling noise to her right. Standing on a small stack of crates was Ashes. The dark gray tomcat stood there looking at her condescendingly.
"Hey there, buddy. I got you a piece of tuna," she said, pulling the scrap out of her pocket. "Here you go."
The cat bounded down from the boxes and began to tear into the piece of fish. Cat stroked his coat while he ate. "So are you coming with us? Do you want to try out New York?"
The cat butted his head against her hand, seeming to agree to go. The three of them walked out of the alley and down the street for one last look at Boston.