Chapter 11
Things passed quickly over the next few days, and a slight routine formed, with Skittery and I becoming almost inseparable. In the mornings, the boys would collect their papers, while I lingered nearby. One of the days, I bought a few on a whim, but I found that while I probably could have sold daily, it was more entertaining to watch Skittery work than to be teased by him for the headlines I came up with. Then, each day, following a light dinner – usually at Tibby's – most of the boys would play a nightly game of poker, five-card stud, or Blackjack.
A few nights, Skittery opted out of gambling to read a book or two to the younger kids. When I wasn't playing cards, or endearingly watching Skittery try to do the different character voices to match that night's story, I'd lie on his bunk trying to think of how – and if- I was going to get home. In fact, my brain spent most evenings in over-drive until after lights out, when it was finally lulled to submission by the rhythmic breathing of sleeping bunkmate.
I spent one afternoon by sneaking away to Central Park to try to sort out more of the details of where I was, but hadn't gotten far. Digging through my bag, I'd uncovered my bus ticket to New York from Boston, which I now remembered boarding, but the rest was a blank. I was content, however, to discover the source of my monetary windfall: I'd taken my most recent paycheck and cashed it outright, taking the one-thousand plus dollars with me to the Big Apple – according to my bank receipt anyway. On the other hand, why exactly I'd done that in the first place was still a mystery locked away in my brain.
So things continued as they were. And after the fourth day of monotony, I was glad to hear the boys were treating them to a night on the town – they were going to a show.
I smiled to myself as I watched Skittery and the other boys transfixed by Medda's latest number. Every move my fellow red-head made on the stage was followed by seemingly every eye in the house – apart from mine. After a few moments, Skittery caught me staring at him and grinned back, asking if I was enjoying the show.
"It's great. I love seeing you boys so happy over something that doesn't involve gambling," I laughed. "Although, I suppose this is just a different kind of vice."
Skittery nodded at the boys to his left who were now learning forward in their seats to watch the show. "I think you suppose right."
He made a motion as if he were going to put his hand on my arm, but as his eyes wandered to the remaining cut above my eye, he stopped and returned his hand to his lap. His smile took on a bit of sadness. "One of these days, maybe I can take you somewhere nice, finally make it up to you for getting you hurt like that."
I sighed. "Are you ever going to stop with that?" He shrugged in return, and went back to the show.
As I watched Medda flitting around the stage, Skittery's words echoing in my head, I began to get an idea. If I played my cards right - and had just a little help from that Swedish Meadowlark - I could simultaneously repay my bunkmate for his hospitality, use his guilt as an in to break down his ever-apparent waking physical boundaries, all while solidifying our relationship – or whatever it was that we had. Three birds with one stone.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. While the boys cheered and sang, and even broke into their own miniature dance numbers, I began to plot.
After an introduction by Mush, I'd spoken to Medda the next morning, gave her some selective insight into how I was hoping to treat my favorite newsie to a night away from the bunkhouse, and she had readily agreed to help book a room. My patience to tell Skittery was waning that afternoon, until I finally couldn't wait any longer.
"I've finally decided how you can make things up to me," I announced, bounding over to him after his customer walked away.
"Oh yeah," he laughed. "And how's that?"
"Will you let me take you away, somewhere really nice for a night? Not because I'm not happy at the lodging house, but because I want to do something nice for you. And it's not charity. And don't worry about money, I've got it covered," my sentences came out fast, hoping he wouldn't have time to absorb them all and would just agree.
Skittery sighed, but gave a resigned nod. I knew he knew me well enough at this point not to bother arguing, but I did know he'd eventually try to come up with some reasons why not to go.
I, however, was happy to get my way in the here and now and I involuntarily broke into my own lopsided smile, which was soon matched by Skittery.
