Thanks to those of you who reviewed for chapter 4!

chaoticmom
Lauren-Rose90
Sunshie
Nichole
Rambles
Scout-britt
MushSpotgoil

(7/9/11)
The chapter has been edited... sorta. Please tell me if you see any kind of mistake whether it be grammar, spelling, or even a geographical one. I don't have a beta reading over the chapters so any problems you may see is all on me. I'd rather get it fixed quickly then let someone read a story with tons of mistakes.

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Chapter Four - Trolley Strike Drags on for Third Week

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"How would you like to start working here?" were the first words out of Phil's, the owner of Tibby's, mouth after swallowing his first bite of my cooking.

I choked on the water I had been sipping. Misty slapped my back and I coughed into my hand. After I had settled back into my seat on the crate, Phil set the plate and silverware he was holding down onto the counter and interlocked his fingers behind his back.

Snipeshooter and Patches were long gone. They needed to get back to work to make money for papers -and at least one meal tomorrow- and had left an hour and a half before. Both of them gave me a hug and made me promise to not have another panic attack. At least while they weren't there to make sure I was alright afterwards. Misty stayed in the kitchen as Freddy tried to make conversation with me while I watched him gather ingredients to make a chicken soup. This is how it went for ten minutes when Freddy suddenly asked me to make a pie for later in the evening. This was the reason for Phil's words. My apple pie had made an impression on him. My sister took my glass and I twisted my fingers together. I stared towards the floor as I did so. Phil shuffled his feet, and that made me look up at him.

Phil was an older man in his late forties with a balding head of black hair. The apron he was wearing had a couple of food stains on the front of it which made me believe that he didn't just own Tibby's, but that he actually worked hard like the rest of his employees. He was nice enough and hadn't made any indication of fascination towards me other then for my cooking. Freddy, the chef, was the same way.

In fact, right at this moment, Freddy had his eyes closed and he was savoring a fork full of the baked dessert. Freddy wasn't like the usual cooks that I used to see in kitchens and bakeries. No, he had a full head of red, curly hair and freckles spattered all across his nose and cheeks. He was also as skinny as a rail. His arms looked stick thin as they lifted his fork into his mouth and he rolled his eyes up into his head and moaned.

"Tastes like 'eaven."

I remembered the words Racetrack had said earlier and bowed my head while my face grew pink. My fingers moved to my shirt sleeves and I pulled them down over my forearms and hands and fiddled with the ends. I looked up at Misty and I groaned up at her pleadingly. My younger sibling pat my hair down and smiled softly up at Phil.

"Do you think she can take a few days to talk it over with our aunt, Mr. Tibby?"

Phil thought this over in his mind for a few minutes and then answered, "Sure, why not. Just make sure you," here he pointed at Misty. "Get back to me with the details if she decides to come back."

Misty nodded and the restaurant owner smiled back at the both of us and left the kitchen with the door swinging behind him. We heard silverware squeaking on a plate and looked over to see Freddy scraping his fork across the ceramics to get the last of the apple pie.

He lifted his fork to his mouth one last time and opened his blue eyes to squint over at us. "I sure hope you come back. I'd love to have a day or two off every once in a while." He set his plate down in the sink and went to rinse both his and Mr. Tibby's dishes. "Even if you're not permanent, come back just to make me one of those pies. They're delicious."

Two weeks later and here I was, flour up to my elbows, spattered on my forehead and cheeks, and all across the apron I was wearing. With the help of Misty and aunt Sara, and some other outside influences, I decided to take the job Phil Tibby offered me. It was frightening at first to leave with Misty in the morning and then come back to the apartment in the evening, but I got used to it and even grew comfortable around Freddy. Now, by no means was I about to spend a whole entire evening alone with him, but I could stand those one hour intervals before Misty or one of the few waitresses came to check on me. I rarely went out into the dining area and spent most of my time in the kitchen. There were a scarce few times that I did actually go out there and that was only because I was delivering food to people I knew.

Now that I was going to work every day, my aunt let loose sighs randomly during the evenings. She had been just as terrified as I was about me spending the day away from home. Her restlessness the night before my first day of work left me with no sleep and I was exhausted in the morning. She finally relaxed a few days later after coming into the diner and meeting with Phil, Freddy, and even Racetrack because he butted into her and Misty's conversation.

Ah, Racetrack. After finding out that I was now working at Tibby's, he came in every day to see if I could scrape up the food for him that I had cooked. He wanted nothing to do with whatever Freddy had made. No, all he wanted was leftovers of the meals I cooked and the desserts I created. Along with bringing his desire for what he calls 'Da most mouthwaterin' food anybody will evah taste,' and his unending appetite, he gathered a few more newsies to share the deliciousness with him.

Skittery was the first one to sulk through the doorway behind the short Italian. When I originally first saw him, he looked like somebody had just shot his puppy. He was silent when I took a seat across from him and next to Racetrack during my break a couple days into my new job. Skittery was almost as quiet as me. The only way I knew that he even talked was because the last ten minutes before they had to head back out to hawk headlines, he started in on the one-sided conversation Racetrack was having with me and added in his own comments.

Crutchy was next. A few days after the first meeting with Skittery, he hobbled in after them and pulled up a chair at their regular table. He was oddly cheerful when I delivered Racetrack the mornings leftovers for lunch and handed Skittery a glass of soda. He had asked how my day had been going and then politely wondered if I could bring him a glass of soda also. I acted civil and stepped around his crutch, almost tripping over it, to the back.

Pie Eater was the last one for me to meet. He had overheard Skittery and Crutchy discussing my baking skills and decided that he needed to come and test it out for himself. He had come running in five minutes after the others had arrived and demanded to taste the pie I had made for the day. I was in the back while he was giving his demands and it was only when I had finally come out with Racetrack's food could I hear Misty yelling at him. She ordered him to sit down and he easily complied with seating himself next to Skittery. When meeting me he froze up, glanced at the food I was setting down in front of Racetrack, and then immediately asked for pie. Every other day after that he'd come in with his last newspaper and trade it with me for a piece of whatever pie I had made that day.

Today it was blueberry. I'd managed to convince Freddy to go to the market to find the best blueberries that he could before coming in to work. He didn't need much convincing after I wrote down the recipe for him, because the night before he was supposed to get them, he grinned brightly and whistled on his way out the door.

The back room of the kitchen was warm because of the fire in the oven and so every time I wiped at my forehead to get the sweat off, I rubbed more and more flour onto my face. I quickly checked on the pie in the oven and turned my head to sneeze.

"Are you ok, Mads? Not getting sick are you?"

I lifted my hand and motioned for her to wait and then paused. My nose scrunched and I bent my head to sneeze again. I rubbed my nose on my shoulder and raised my head. Misty stood holding a tub full of dirty dishes near the sink and was staring at me with a concerned look. I shook my head at her and went to wash my hands.

"If you're sure." She dumped the plates and glasses into the soapy water. She turned abruptly and eyed me. "And just so you know, those hooligans are waiting out there for their food. Racetrack's getting antsy."

My eyes widened and I dashed across the kitchen to get my notepad.

How long have they been out there?

I tossed it at her and she scrambled to catch it. She finally got a grip on it and straightened up while reading it. She shrugged her shoulders and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, only about...let's see...ten minutes."

I glowered at her. She knew how impatient some of those newsies could get. This was not including Crutchy who would stay in there all day just to get a glass of soda. I swiftly pushed past her and to the stove to check on the pie. It was done. I pulled it out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool for a few minutes before turning back to get the plate of breakfast foods I had saved for Racetrack. I slapped Misty's hand as she reached for the plate and she glared at me while cradling the injured limb to her chest.

I raised my eyebrows at her and she did nothing but scoff at me and go back to her dishes. I cut the pie and put a piece on a dessert plate. I grabbed for a few rolls and dropped them into a small basket. After gathering up the plates, sodas, and silverware, I exhaled slowly and pushed the swinging door open. I looked across the restaurant to where the newsies' regular table was, but found an elderly couple sharing a private moment instead.

"Ovah here, Mads!"

I pivoted on my feet and saw the teenagers stuffed in a booth across the room. Skittery was the one who called to me and he was standing on his feet leaning over the table and waving me over. I skirted around occupied chairs and waiters and waitresses and made it to their table with little trouble. I set the basket down on the middle of the table and the rest was quickly taken out of my hands.

"I'se starvin!" Racetrack announced before thrusting a fork full of food into his mouth. He didn't bother swallowing before he continued. "What took so long?"

I timidly wrung my fingers into the bottom of my apron. I looked back and forth between the boys at the table and finally Pie Eater shoved Racetrack into the wall he was sitting next to. "Leave 'er alone."

Racetrack gave Pie Eater an angry stare before softening his look as his eyes moved to me. "Sahrry, Madeline. Probably wasn't even ya fault, was it?"

I shook my head. Pie Eater squished Racetrack into the wall, scooted closer to him, and then gestured to the empty booth space that was now open next to him. I gathered my skirt together and sat down next to him. He reached across the table and stole the newspaper Crutchy had been looking through and handed it over to me. Crutchy just smiled at me and took one of the rolls from the table. I briefly glanced through the paper, noticing that the Trolley Strike was now dragging on into the third week, and then folded the paper up and set it on my lap.

I listened to the conversation between the four of them and occasionally nodded or shook my head as a question was directed at me. I stole a sip of Pie Eater's soda as they mentioned a kid named David and his younger brother Les.

"Shoah didn't know what 'e was doin dis mornin did 'e?" Racetrack said as he ran the sleeve of his shirt over his mouth.

Skittery leaned his head against his fist and fidgeted in his seat. "Nah, 'e didn't. Only took a handful a papes when 'e bought 'em."

"S'matter wid 'im?" Pie Eater asked.

Racetrack rolled his eyes and let his fork clatter to his plate. "'e's one a dem school boys. Doesn't 'ave any clue as to what 'e's doin."

Crutchy, who had been fussing with his crutch, looked up when Racetrack said this. "Hey now. It's his first day. He'll get bettah wid time."

The Italian seemed to be thinking about this before he finally agreed. Pie Eater took his soda out of my hands and drained it. He smacked his lips and grinned at me. I reached across the table for Skittery's and he acknowledged that I was taking it from him. After taking a couple sips he held his hand back for it. I gave it to him as he asked, "Any idea 'ow it's goin' wid Jack teachin' 'im and 'is bruddah?"

"Saw 'em bout an hour ago. Cowboy said dey was doin alright. Said 'e was takin 'em ta da matches." Pie Eater answered through a mouthful of pie.

Crutchy frowned. "Is Jack shoah it's ok ta be bringin dat kid wid 'im ta one a those? Those boxin' matches can be priddy violent."

Racetrack burped into his hand and glanced around Pie Eater at me before saying, "Twiggy does it all da time and nothins 'appened ta 'im yet."

Misty took that moment to appear at the edge of our table. "Ok, ya bums. It's time for you to get going, you're scaring off potential customers."

Crutchy immediately started to stand and Misty helped him up. He thanked her and adjusted his crutch under his arm. He turned back to the table and gave a look to the rest of us still sitting. Racetrack heaved an annoyed sigh and started pushing against Pie Eater. Pie Eater in turn nudged me until I scooted out of the booth to let them out at the same time Skittery stood up across from me. Racetrack tugged on my apron and started to light up a cigarette. Misty slapped his hand away.

"I don't think so, Higgins. Get out of here before you light that."

Racetrack glared daggers at her. "One a these days, Misty Eyes. One a these days. Jus' you'se wait an see."

"Sure, sure. I can't wait till that day comes," she mocked him. "But until then, get out."

Racetrack smirked at her and waved goodbye to me. "I'se going to Sheepshead, wish me luck, Madeline."

I saluted him and he chuckled at me before leaving. Pie Eater did the same as Racetrack and thanked me for the blueberry pie and he walked out the diner. Crutchy made for the door but turned and made Skittery's tall frame stumble to a halt behind him. I stopped from where I had started to help Misty clean up the table and looked over at him calling my name.

"Twiggy wanted me ta tell you'se dat he won't be able ta come by tanight. Said his muddah's got plans for da family."

I nodded my thanks to him and had to turn back once again when Skittery called for me. He shrugged at my pointed look and slid his hands into his pockets. "Jus' wanted to tell you'se dat I'se will be back later."

I waved him off and he quickly exited Tibby's.

Later that night, after the diner had slowed and Phil was starting to close up, I hung up my apron on a hook in the small coat closet in the kitchen. I picked up my notepad from the spot I had last left it and went into the dining area to try and find Misty. She was finishing with cleaning up one last table and when she saw me she tossed down her apron into the tub and carried it past me.

"Give me just a sec, Mads. I'll be right out."

I nodded and crossed the room to stand next to the window. I stared outside at the almost empty street and sighed. I was becoming comfortable with being outside during the night and I think it had something to do with the fact that Misty and I had at least one of our newsie friends escorting us home every evening. We don't have to walk alone and defenseless anymore under the stars. I could hear Misty arguing with Freddy about something and figured that she was almost ready to leave. I looked out the window and glanced both ways down the street. Skittery hadn't arrived yet.

"Just say thank you, young lady, and get out of here."

I twisted my head around and saw that Freddy had followed Misty and continued to follow her as she weaved between tables. She was carrying a large basket like the one aunt Sara used to hold all her sewing supplies and it tipped back and forth as she moved.

"Don't spill that Misty." Freddy sternly said while pointing at her when she came to a stop next to me. "And tell your aunt, since I know she's going to want you to say thank you for her, that she's welcome."

Misty rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure she gets the message." She tugged the basket further up her arm and turned to me. "Let's go, Mads."

She walked to the door and called to Phil to come unlock it. I glanced outside again to see if Skittery had arrived. He still hadn't made an appearance and I didn't want to leave without him there to walk us home. Phil was holding the door open and Misty was already standing outside waiting for me. I quickly shook my head and took a step away from the door.

"Come on, Maddie." Misty called. "Even if he's not here yet, he'll meet us on the way."

I took another step back. Freddy ran a hand over his face and Phil jangled his keys in his hand impatiently. The owner of the restaurant let his keys fall into his apron pocket.

"Madeline, I need to close this door," Phil told me. "And your aunt is expecting you at home."

After refusing to leave once again, Phil had Freddy hold the door open and he took a step closer to me. This was what I was afraid of.

"Madeline, I' m not going to hurt you. No one's going to hurt you, but you need to leave. I need to lock up."

Misty looked through the doorway confused. "Don't do anything, Mr. Tibby. You're going to scare her even more then she already is."

I pointed at Misty and nodded my head.

"Misty, she can't stay here. Both you and her need to get home."

I took this small amount of time to chance a glance out the window. A shadowy figure was walking down the cobblestoned street. Their lanky form was slouched and something lit up quickly before dimming down. He was finally here.

I scurried past the two males and Misty and hurried towards Skittery. He let his cigarette fall to the ground and scuffed his shoe over the top of it. "C'mon, Mist, let's getcha 'ome."

I glanced over my shoulder as I reached Skittery's side to see Phil raising his hands in defeat and Freddy shrugging his shoulders. Misty grinned at them and pulled the basket farther up her shoulder. She skipped forwards and I could see Freddy wince through the window as the precious cargo she was carrying tipped dangerously to the side.

"I'se think we can catch da last trolley of da night if we'se 'urry." I could feel Skittery's hand faintly rest on my back, pushing me forward. "We'se don't wanna be out latah den usual."

Misty's hand grasped mine and my arm jerked as she tried to skip at the pace we were walking. The big, wicker basket jumped with every step she took and she had to keep pulling it further up her shoulder as it kept falling back down her curved arm. Skittery looked over the top of my head to look at her.

"What's dat?"

"Our supper."

"Den why ah you'se jerkin it 'round like dat?"

Misty shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

Skittery sighed and shortly pulled me to a stop. Misty didn't notice our stop and she continued to skip forward. With her hand still grasping mine, it wrenched my arm away from my body. My sister looked back at us and frowned.

"We need to catch the trolley."

Skittery tugged the basket out of her hands. "Yeah, we'se do, but if you'se keep trippin' 'round like dat den ya not gonna 'ave any suppah ta eat tanight. Then ya won't hafta worry bout takin da trolley evah again cause ya aunt's gonna kill ya's."

Misty scowled at him and Skittery just raised an eyebrow at her. "Ya got somethin' ta say?"

"No." She mumbled. "Nothing at all. Let's go."

We finally made it back to the apartment building in front of the Lodging House. Skittery handed me the basket, telling me that he didn't trust Misty to hold it. My sister sat on the stoop looking up at the stars as the newsboy held me back for a moment longer.

"I'se not gonna be able ta come tamorrow. Didn't make enough money taday ta even buy a coke. I'se need it fah papes."

I nodded understandably and patted his arm. He smiled down at me and started walking backwards to the front steps where he lived. "Racetrack will be in though, of course. 'e's got 'is ways of trickin Weasel inta spottin 'im papes. Pie Eatah's 'ad 'is dose for da next couple days and Crutchy's gotta come in ta see ya smilin face. So, you'se won't be completely 'lone."

I exhaled as he disappeared through the door to the Lodging House. I stood a moment longer watching the shadows move behind the windows across the street before twirling around. Misty's eyes were glazed over as she stared up into the night sky. I set the basket down on the step below her and nervously sat on one two above her. I glanced at the nearly empty street before looking back at my younger sibling.

"Can't see the stars very well in the city," she whispered. Her head lowered to rest on my knees and I ran my fingers through her hair. She licked her lips and continued on. "Remember how Papa used to sit out on the porch with us at night and map out all the stars. I don't remember much cause I was so young, but I still see him teaching us every now and then."

I stayed silent.

"You can kinda see the big dipper," she voiced softly. Her head lifted and she pointed to the sky. "Look, you can see the handle to it."

She turned to see if I had looked and I flicked the end of her nose. I smiled down at her. We both jumped as a male voice suddenly rose above the quiet sounds of the city.

"'ey!"

We looked up to the building across the street. Racetrack was hanging out one of the windows and I could see a few other unknown boys watching him carefully to make sure he didn't fall out.

"Would ya both get inside! Ya aunt's gonna 'ave a fit if ya's don't walk through dat door in da next few minutes. I'se can see 'er from 'ere and she's pacin' up a storm."

Simultaneously, the two of us turned to look up at the building our aunt was currently residing in.

"Argh!"

We looked back over at Racetrack.

"Like ya gonna be able ta see 'er from dere! Get inside!" He dangerously leaned forward as he yelled.

My eyes widened at the sight and I reached down for my notepad. After quickly jotting something down I shoved it into Misty's face and she struggled to read it in the dark.

"Maddie wants me to tell you that... Hold on a second... That you need to get back to whatever nasty gambling addiction you ha-Ow!"

I had jabbed her in the side.

"You'se were saying, Misty Eyes?"

I nudged her and she cleared her throat before continuing to read. "Maddie wants you to get back inside before you fall out and become another case that the police decide to write off as suicide cause you're one of them dirty street bums."

I poked her. "Ok that last bit was me."

I could practically feel the warmth radiating off of Racetrack's faraway grin from where we were sitting.

"At least somebody cares fah me."

Somebody yelled something behind him that sounded like, "I'se care fah ya Racetrack. You'se and dat short Italian body a yoah's."

Misty giggled as she got the gist of what was muffled.

Racetrack turned and sent that person a rude hand gesture and laughter filtered out through the open window. He disappeared into the room and yelled something unintelligible. The laughter was prolonged and Racetrack's form filled the window again.

"Thanks, Madeline! I'se will see you'se tamorrow. Misty Eyes... Put a lid on it."

He left the window and my sister and I stood up from the stoop steps. I reached down to pick up the basket and entered the apartment building behind Misty, both of us with smiles on our faces.