Chapter 2: Money

Life in New York City - the most populated city in the United States - was unlike life in any other place; every type of person imaginable, it seemed, lived within the city limits. No matter the time of day, the streets were always crowded and buzzing with activity because everyone had somewhere to go or some place to be; New York City offered something for everybody.

The fancy businessmen in their perfectly pressed suits walked stiffly through the streets on their way to work in offices set high above the city in the tallest buildings. They would pass by the blue-collar factory workers, who trudged along for another day of back-breaking labor and little wages on the assembly lines. Both had one thing in common; they worked hard in order to provide for their families.

Women, who had not joined the workforce, were often accompanied by a passel of screaming children as they scurried along from shop to shop, running errands to maintain their households. Those women who were born into New York's wealthier ring of families took to the shops as well, frivolously spending their family fortune on fine dresses and jewelry.

When not in school or under the watchful eye of their parents, children added to the pollution of noise on the streets and in the parks - much to the irritation of the older generation - where they played their lively games and occupied themselves with whatever means they could find.

It was this congested lifestyle, this constant stream of people flowing through the streets, that the newsies thrived on. It kept them in business.

---

"Extra! Extra! Trolley workers set to go on strike! Read all about it!"

Tug's voice rang out, shouting about the bolded headline which graced the front pages of the newspapers she was holding. Most people just passed by casting half-interested looks her way, not bothering to stop. When they did stop, drawn by their curiosity, she would exchange a newspaper for one penny, sometimes more if the person was feeling charitable. The coins that she collected were nestled safely in the pockets of her trousers.

It had taken a few days, but she had finally found a decent place to sell. Under normal circumstances it would have been quite dangerous for her to be standing on a corner near a pub, but dressed as a newsboy no one paid her any particular attention aside from when they made a purchase.

All morning long, Tug could feel beads of sweat roll disgustingly down her back as the sun beat down on the unprotected street corners. By midday, she was in desperate need of some water, having nearly shouted herself hoarse. With only one newspaper left, she abandoned her post and joined the throng of people headed toward Herald Square. For a couple of blocks, Tug followed behind a tall, well-dressed lady and found herself lost in admiration for the woman's fine attire. Caught up in a daydream of living such a fancy life, Tug was knocked back to reality when she heard her name being yelled distantly behind her.

"Tug! Hey, Tug! Wait up!"

Before turning toward the voice, Tug cringed at the sound of her given nickname; she still did not have a handle on it. While most of the other newsies had nicknames that suited their personalities and style, Tug wasn't entirely convinced that hers did the same.

Jack Kelly - the leader of the Manhattan newsies - was also known as Cowboy, because he had dreams of living out west and sported a cowboy hat to prove it. Racetrack was the first newsie that Tug had met - the one smoking the cigar on her first day - his name was very fitting because he gambled away his earnings at the racetracks. Another one of the boys, they called him Crutchy, had a bad leg and used a crutch to get around; the nickname just seemed logical. There were a few nicknames that didn't quite lend themselves to obvious explanations, like Snipeshooter and Bumlets. It wasn't until she had been warned to keep a count on any cigars she might have, because the kid would smoke a half used one he had found on the street if he was desperate enough. Bumlets, on the other hand, was still a complete mystery.

The boy darting through the crowd towards her was called Mush, because he was a hopeless romantic, known for making the girls swoon. He was one of the few boys that Tug was particularly leery of, because if he was such a ladies' man he was bound to figured her out soon or later. She gave him a pleasant smile when he reached her side and adjusted her hat so that it sat low over her eyes.

"Ya goin' to Tibby's?" he asked. It just happened that they were walking in that direction.

She gave a shrug of her shoulders, glancing sideways at him.

"You ain't hungry?"

"I dunno. I thought about pickin' something up," she replied indecisively.

He eyeballed the single newspaper in her hand, pointing to it. "Ya still got a pape."

"Yeah," she agreed plainly. "Figured I'd sell it on the way."

Suddenly, Mush snatched it from her hand and shouted, "Trolley union strike begins! Read all about it!"

"Hey!" she squealed instinctively, reaching for the paper as he held it high above his head. Quickly, clearing her throat, she deepened her tone again and said, "Come on, give it back!"

"Hey kid, I'll take that one," a large man offered, waddling up to the pair of newsies. He held out a shiny copper penny and exchanged it with Mush, who then flipped the coin to Tug.

She caught it against her chest and blinked. "Uh, thanks."

"No problem," he replied, already back on the move. "Now, you comin' or what?"

Nodding, she slipped the coin into her pocket and hurried after him.

---

She followed him to a little corner diner called Tibby's. It was one of the newsies' favorite places for a bite to eat - when they could afford it. Some of the boys were already stuffing their faces when the two of them walked in. They were greeted by smiles and a few muffled hellos which resulted in some food residue being sprayed about. Holding back her revulsion, Tug muttered her greeting to the others and pulled up a chair to join them.

After a while of listening to them talk, Tug lost interest in the conversation and let her mind wander far away from the small diner, to some place where she could live a life without all the constant worry that was her life now. She was shakening from her daydream by the sound of her name.

"How much d'ya bring in, Tug?" Snipeshooter asked offhandedly. Apparently they had been talking about the day's earnings.

She blinked back to the table with all the newsboys.

"What?"

"How much d'ya make today?"

"Enough," she grumbled, pushing her empty plate to the middle of the table. She hated talking about the money. There never really seemed to be enough of it, but somehow she would find a way to get by with what she had. Tug slouched back in the chair, reminding herself not to cross her legs, and stuffed her hands into her pockets so she could feel the pool of coins between her fingers.

"We're gonna have a friendly poker game tonight," Racetrack offered with a sly little grin. "It'll be at the lodge, if yer interested?"

Tug shook her head. "Nah, I'll pass. I ain't much of a card player."

"Neither is Blink, but he still plays," Racetrack said with a laugh; some of the other boys chuckled too.

Grinning, Jack added, "If ya change yer mind, nine o'clock. Newsboys Lodging House over on Duane Street."

"Hey, Tug? We was all wondering," Boots said suddenly; instinctively, Tug's stomach tightened nervously. "D'ya got a place somewhere 'round here or something? 'Cause we noticed you ain't bunkin' at the lodging house.

Curious faces had turned toward her after he asked; all eyes focused on her. Relieved that it was nothing more, Tug exhaled quietly through her nose before answering.

"Yeah. It ain't too far from here," she replied vaguely; the last thing she needed was for one of them to show up unexpectedly. It would be safer for her to keep a distance between them until they were used to one another and she was certain that they completely believed her charade. Making that her cue to leave, Tug stood. "Actually, I gotta get goin'. I'll see ya fellas tomorrow."

"See ya, Tug," replied a few voices as she pushed open the door. After she had gone, the boys put their heads back together and finished planning the rest of their evening's entertainment.

Back outside in the afternoon sun, Tug walked slowly across the square; she wasn't quite ready to go home. Taking the longer route, she strolled by some of the shops and glanced at the various displays in the windows. In one window, which had caught her interest, a frilly pink dress was on display. Tug stopped and stared longingly through the thin pane of glass; it would take a lot of money to afford something so beautiful. Catching sight of her own reflecting - hardly recognizing herself - she hung her head in embarrassment, turned on her heel, and hurried away.

After delaying her return for as long as possible, Tug's feet carried her to the tenement building that she called home. Stopping just outside the front entrance, she looked up to her level and inhaled, filling her lungs with the fresh summer air. As she did this her hands fell against her legs, making the coins inside her pockets to jingle. Hearing that sound was all it took to remind her that she had made the right choice and that it was the best way for her to make a living right now.