The next morning, Friday, Lily woke up, but didn't move. She pretended to continue to sleep, not wanting any interaction with anybody. She stayed in Race's bunk, and would stay in Race's bunk unless forcibly removed. She listened to the boys get ready for the day in silence. No one cracked any jokes. No one really said anything. She heard them all walk out of the bunkroom and down the stairs. She felt some one run his hand over her hair and plant a kiss on her cheek. Flint. She had no idea he'd stayed the night. She heard a single set of footsteps walk out of the bunkroom and down the stairs.
Knowing she was alone, she opened her eyes and sat up in the bunk. She rubbed her eyes and smoothed out her hair. She sat cross-legged on the bed, running her hand over the mattress.
She glanced at the floor and saw something sticking out from underneath the bed. She reached down and pulled it out. It was Race's vest. She set it on the bed in front of her. When Race was being treated, it must have been discarded and forgotten. She ran her hand over the front of the vest, his pocket watch chain tangling in her fingers. She couldn't help but grin, remembering…
"I don't need the actual watch…the chain is enough to make me look like a gentleman," Race had said with his adorable trademark smirk. She brought the vest up, burying her face in it, inhaling his scent. For a moment, she could almost trick herself into thinking he was still alive. She put the vest down.
She looked over at the nightstand and did a double take. A short, half-smoked cigar was sitting on the table. Her eyes filled with tears as she reached over and picked it up. She put it under her nose, inhaling its scent. Normally she didn't like to be around Race when he smoked them, but suddenly the scent was comforting. It was part of Race.
A small cigar box sat on the nightstand and Lily reached for it. She opened it up to find an array of miscellany items – betting slips, coins, a couple buttons. A glint of gold caught her eyes and she picked up the ring Race had given her. All at once, the tears came once more and she sobbed, remembering that night. She wiped her eyes, and ran her finger through the items once more. She pulled out a folded newspaper article with something wrapped inside. She unfolded it to find it was the article written about the fire that had killed Ellie. A silver locket on a chain fell out of the newspaper. Lily picked it up. It had been Ellie's locket. She opened it and inside there was a photo of Ellie and a photo of Race, both taken before they had run away from home. She covered her mouth and sobbed some more.
She didn't hear when someone walked into the bunkroom.
"Lily?" said a soft voice.
Lily jumped and wiped her eyes. She looked up and saw Mush standing there, wringing his hat in his hands.
"Oh…hi Mush," she said, closing the box.
"Hi," he said, walking over. "I was just comin' to check on you. You okay?"
Lily shrugged.
"Dumb question, sorry," said Mush. He sat down on the edge of the bunk. He saw the box sitting in front of Lily. "That Race's stuff?"
Lily nodded and sniffed. "It's amazing how someone who meant so much to me left so little behind." She wiped a few tears away. "I mean this is it. This is all that's left of Racetrack Higgins in the world."
"No," said Mush. "He may not have left a lot of stuff behind. But think of all he left behind in you. In me; in all of us. The world will never forget him because we will never forget him."
Lily took a ragged breath. "I miss him so much, Mush."
Mush nodded, tears stinging his own eyes. "I do too, Lily."
They sat together for a few moments in silence, remembering their friend.
"When was the last time you talked to him?" Lily asked.
Mush looked at her. "Tuesday morning. I got my papes and ran into him on my way to my sellin' spot. He was on his way to work."
"How was he?"
Mush shrugged. "Normal." Mush swallowed, debating whether or not to tell her about his conversation with Race. "He said he was goin' to work at the grocers and then go to Brooklyn to see you." Lily bit her lip, tears blurring her vision. "I asked him if he was gonna ask you back again and he said no. He said he'd been thinkin' and was gonna tell you that he'd always love you, and he knew he screwed up, and wanted to be friends. He just wanted to make sure you were happy – that's all he'd ever wanted."
Lily started sobbing all over again. "I wish I could have talked to him one last time."
Mush reached over and carefully folded Race's vest, as if it were a sacred cloth. He set it on top of the small cigar box. "These belong to you. Race would want you to have them."
"Thanks, Mush."
Later that afternoon, Flint walked into the bunkroom. Lily was lying back on the bunk, fiddling with something in her hands.
"Hey," he said, walking over and sitting on the next bunk over.
Lily looked over at him. "Hi."
Flint rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands together. "You want to get something to eat?"
Lily shook her head and looked back at the object in her hands. "I'm not hungry."
"Lily, you've only eaten twice in three days."
Lily shrugged. "I'll eat when I'm hungry."
Flint sighed and watched her for a few moments. She was holding a silver locket open, running her thumbs over the pictures inside. He swallowed. "You, uh, you ready to go home?"
Lily paused and looked over to him. There was a tense silence when Lily didn't say anything. Flint bounced his knee, waiting for her response.
Lily sat up and put the locket into the open cigar box. She picked up Race's neatly folded vest, flattened it and placed it on top of everything in the box and closed the lid. She looked at Flint, who was staring at the ground.
"Yeah," she said. "Let's go home."
Flint looked up to her. He hadn't realized how tense he'd been until he felt every muscle in his neck, shoulders, and back relax. He nodded and stood up. Lily picked up the cigar box and stood up.
Flint put his arm around her and they walked out of the bunkroom, down the stairs, and out of the lodging house.
"You sure you don't want to grab something to eat before I take you home?" Flint asked as they crossed the bridge.
"I'm fine," said Lily.
Flint walked her to her apartment. He walked her inside the building, up the stairs, and to her door. Lily unlocked the door and opened the door. She turned to Flint.
"Thank you," she said.
"You let me know if you need anything, okay?" Flint asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing her arms.
Lily nodded. "I'll see you later."
"Okay," said Flint as she walked inside and closed the door.
Flint sighed and walked out of the building. He walked toward the river and along the waterfront until he got to the docks where all of his friends were.
"Hey stranger," said Mikey. "Haven't seen you all week."
"Been in Manhattan," said Flint.
"How is she doing?" Amelia asked, walking up.
Flint shrugged. "She's not eating. She's miserable. She's grieving."
"I'll see what I can do when I go home later," said Amelia. "She refused to eat when Ellie died too."
Flint took his usual spot and leaned against a post. Amelia walked over and sat down. "I know this isn't easy for you, but it really means a lot that you're sticking by Lily through this whole thing. It means a lot to me, and I know it means a lot to her. She needs you right now."
"She doesn't talk to me," said Flint. "She hardly looks at me. It's like I'm not even there."
"She knows you're there," said Amelia. "She needs you there. She'll come around."
Flint picked off a sliver of wood from the dock and tossed it into the river.
#
Two more days passed and Lily hardly got out of bed. Flint and Amelia brought her food that they ended up eating because Lily refused to eat except for one or two bites before she rolled over and went to sleep again.
"I don't understand," said Flint, sitting on the stoop of the girls' apartment building. "Is she trying to just waste away to nothing?"
"She's grieving," said Spot. "Her and Race go way, way back."
Amelia nodded. "When they were together, they were more in love than I'd ever seen two people."
"I just wish she would…do something. Scream, cry, throw a tantrum…anything, but she just lays there, either rummaging through that box or staring at the wall," said Flint, tapping his fist against his palm. "It…makes me nervous."