Chapter eleven

Here it is! The very last chapter, minus the epilogue! Then this story is done! I'll do all the thanking later and besides, hey didn't I warn you about that last chapter? Eh? * shrugs*

Well, I gots homework, and too much of it. So please read and review and perk me up? Please? * makes puppy eyes*











I buried her next to my parents one warm summer day. I felt as if my heart had died with her. Tears ran down my face as they lowered her into the ground. That night, I sat on our bed, unable to sleep and unwilling. My kids were worn out, exhausted in the other room.

I couldn't stay there, I had to get out. Quietly I made my way out the door, but was unable to avoid waking up Vinnie. I wondered if he was even asleep.

"Pop? Where ya going'?" I knelt beside him and stroked his hair.

"Jist out fer some aia." I whispered soothingly. "I'll be back." He nodded. "Now, go back ta sleep." He laid back and closed his eyes, but I doubted he was sleeping.

I must have walked all the way around Manhattan that night before I found myself in a small bar near the dockside. There I slapped down the few dollars I had and began to forget.

I have no idea how long I was there, or how I got home, but I found myself in bed, a cloth over my eyes with Vinnie beside me, wiping my forehead. The moment I opened my eyes, he began to yell and I winced as his voice made my head pound.

Jack burst in a moment later and smiled at me. I remembered everything and closed my eyes, but lacking the strength to turn away. Jack laid his hand on my shoulder.

"Race. Wake up. Ya haveta get up. Ya gots a job, and kids. Ya gotta take cae a dem." I opened my eyes and stared into Vinnie's upturned face. Then I reached out my arms and he ran into them. I held him close and I began to cry. Once again, tears poured from my eyes and I was not alone. Vinnie's small body was shuddering as he cried too. And soon I felt two more pairs of small arms wrap themselves around us and we all cried together, letting everything out that day.

But that night did not end my mourning. In fact, I remained cold and distant to my friends and kids for so long. And as for the new baby, forget it.

I had never cared for a baby alone in my life and had no clue how to. The day I handed her to Jack was the last time I saw her. I refused to see her, refused to see my dead wife staring at me from those eyes. This child, this innocent baby had killed my Vicky and I wanted nothing to do with her.

It took almost loosing her to realize that Vicky had left me a precious gift that I was taking for granted.

Almost a month afterwards, Vinnie dragged me out of bed, claming that his sister was breathing funny. I thought he meant Marina, but paused when he led me to the makeshift crib. I backed away, not wanting to look but Vinnie forced me forward, desperate that he was going to loose his sister too.

"Pop, make her stop!" he cried. I approached the bed, and heard the funny rasping noise that was coming from the baby's chest. It didn't sound good and slowly I reached over to brush a lock of reddish hair away from her forehead only to feel burning heat.

My paternal instincts took over and I snatched her up, holding her close and ordering Vinnie downstairs for Jack and Sarah. The boy was gone in an instant and back in less than one.

Jack was gone for the doctor and Sarah tried to take the baby but now that I held her, I never wanted to let go. I held her tight, even as the doctor examined her.

He shook his head and told me that the chances were very slim. "Influenza." He told me. I shook my head, knowing of several friends who had never conquered their battled with the deadly disease. He prescribed a medication and keeping her warm.

I spent the next three days, never leaving my baby's side. She was too weak to cry, too weak to do anything but sleep. But as she slept I held her tight, silent tears slipping down my cheek.

But three days without sleep will drain you and one day, I fell asleep. When I awoke, I saw a pair of crystal clear eyes staring up at me. I gazed in amazement at the child who smiled at me. I touched her forehead and found no blazing heat, no red skin. I let out a shaky breath and picked her up, holding her close, as the tears of relief slid down my cheeks. I rocked her slowly and she made not a peep.

"Pop? What's wrong?" Vinnie's small voice asked. I turned to see Vinnie, Marinna and Dino looking at me, horrified, knowing that their new baby sister was "sleeping" as well. I smiled and opened my arms to them, letting them see the smiling baby. My children rushed into my arms and I held on tight, knowing that maybe, just maybe, things would pull through and we would be a family again.

Things were never as easy after that. I quit my job, claiming that I had no more time, and that I had kids to take care of. McKenna was not happy, but he insisted I stay on and continue to train La Tempesta , if not run him. I agreed, even with the wage decrease of almost three dollars.

Vinnie and Marinna decided they wanted to help too and Vinnie made the same choice I had, many years ago. He became a newsie. He already knew many newsies and had the same flare for it, I had. He often took Dino along, and I let him, as long as he did not miss too much school.

I was not aware of it at the time, but Vinnie stopped going to school all together. I did not force him, knowing that an education was important but that he would get a much better one on the streets.

I had vowed I would never let my kids grow up like me and regardless of their mother, I feel I am doing a good job. They're good kids, who know right from wrong, and whom I love with all my heart.

We all moved on. I try my best to keep track of all my friends and it isn't too hard. Most of us have stayed. When we were kids, we wished for bigger and better things, but now we realize that you play the hand that life deals you, whether it be good or bad.

The others moved on as well. Blink soon inherited and ran Tibby's, making it still the favorite hangout of newsies. He met a girl and they got married, maybe three or four years ago. They're happy.

Mush got a job working in one of the museums. He's happy there, making enough to support him and his wife and their small child.

Davy found a job as a reporter, though for a newspaper far out west. We saw him off a year ago, and every now and then, when you least expect it, he'll send a letter. He's promised to come out for the anniversary of the strike.

Every year, we all get together and celebrate our victory. Vinnie loves it and not long ago, he was involved in his own strike. It succeeded to his delight and he now feels like he's done something great. I know the feeling.

Davy's happy. He's met some girl out there and they are planning to get married in a few weeks. Davy wants to come home for it, and I hope he will.

Les is still selling papes and I have a feeling he'll do it as long as he can. The others call him the best, and he is, because he learned from the best.

Boots opened a shoe store down in Midtown and is doing quite well. Skittery owns a small bar down near the docks, and tells us insane stories of the men and woman who come in. Medda still runs her vaudeville hall, and still invites us there every chance we get. Vinnie loves to hear the story of how his father tried to save her life when he was only sixteen.

And Spot? Good old Spot did something none of us had ever expected him to do. You may know him as Samuel Conlon, mayor of New York City.

Jack's fared better than any of us. As his previous status had placed him far below the law, he was allowed to go places no one else was and so get the pictures no one else could. I remember when I was about twenty-one and he twenty-two, he finally got an award for his photographs. And guess which one he submitted. The one of Vicky and me on the day of our engagement.

He could have easily bought one of those big brownstones in upper Manhattan, but he didn't. He was happy right where he was, thank you. He knew the people, the neighborhood, he'd grown up here. And this is where he was going to stay. He, Sarah and their three kids, still live right below us.

I have learned many lessons over my brief twenty-seven years. But I have seen and done more than some people do in ten lifetimes. I am a newsie, a striker, a trainer, a jockey, a father, a husband, a widower, and now an author. So many things, and still I am only Racetrack Higgins.

Life's a game, a game of chance. Some people are dealt a full house and some get no cards at all. But you take what is given to you and make the best of it. And if you don't like the hand you're dealt, then do everything in your power to change it.

You only have one life to live, only one hand to play. So play it right. It's all a game, sometimes you win and sometimes you lose, but you keep on playing. I plan to keep on playing until my dying breath.