"My goil was in da Irish Quatah?" Race yelled as he opened the door to Tibby's Restaurant. The room was full of Manhattan newsies, discussing the recent events with West Harlem over a large, warm dinner. The sun had just gone down and the cool night air had swept into the restaurant when the door had opened.

"Heya Race! I'm fine, thanks, nice ta see you too" Mush said sarcastically, from where he was sitting next to Ringlets and Asia. Lefty was at the large table too, the one they always sat at together, with Jack and Taylor and everyone else. On any given day you could look through the left front window of Tibby's and see that famous group of Manhattan newsies sitting together at that table, eating and talking happily, as they were doing that night.

"Heya Racetrack" Lefty called, smiling. She hadn't seen him since yesterday afternoon, when they had gone their separate ways in the crowd of guys outside the Boys' Lodging House. She had missed him so much that to others it might have seemed silly or foolish, that she was too attached to him and he to her. But she was. She loved him completely, hopelessly, to the point where she would dream about him disappearing and wake up in the darkness crying his name, tears in her eyes. She told Anthony countless stories about his father while he was at work, saying what everyone else said, that when the little baby grew up he would look just like his papa. She had loved him passionately, feverishly, ever since the day they had met. She loved his voice, his hands, his hair. Her love for him was deep, pure and yet intensely sensual, piercing and almost painful.

"Heya Lefty" Race said, any anger that was netted into his tone when he walked into the restaurant washed away by the sight of her, their baby in her thin arms. He hadn't slept in forty-eight hours, when he was in the Boys' Lodging House with Jack and Benny, discussing the West Harlem problem all night and into the morning. He hadn't slept in Brooklyn, where he talked with Spot and his boys for hours and hours. As he had walked back to Manhattan Boots had met him on the street, and when he asked who went with Cray to the Irish Quarters. The thought of Lefty, his little, darling, beautiful Lefty, wandering through the violent, filthy, alcohol-drenched streets of the Irish Quarter made him inconceivably frightened. He knew what those streets were liked, growing up he had heard stories of brave, just Italian men venturing into the lawless streets where the Irish lived in squalor, fighting off scores of the red-haired menaces. He himself had been in those streets, especially after he had run away from home. He had stolen from them and paid the bloody price; he had beaten them at poker and barely left the game table alive. Everyone knew that the Italians liked women, but the Irish, Race would swear, were far worse than his own people. A pair of pretty blue eyes was all they needed see. Race was fully prepared to soak whoever it was that allowed Lefty to be exposed to the immoral scabs that were the Irish.

But when he sat down next to her and held her in his arms all that was forgotten. He laid a kiss on Anthony's head before raising her face to his, kissing her deeply for a long while. He had hoped she would take Anthony home and rest, but Mush had told him that done of the girls had left the Lodging House all night and into the day. As he held her he felt how tired she was; he knew her body that well. Her breaths were slow and steady, as one who was asleep. She was weak and limp as she leaned against his chest, and he held her tightly. Sometimes he felt he couldn't hold her close enough, tight enough.

When they had first begun to go out he had been afraid to hold her as close as he wanted to; her fragile body seemed in danger of breaking in his arms. But now he clung to her as if separation meant certain death, a feeling he had become quite familiar with. He loved her too much to be without her, even for more than an hour. He wished she could know how much it killed him to leave her each morning as he went off to work. He thought about her thought the day, focusing on his favourite of her features, her eyes, her fragrant hair and skin. At night he tried to memorize her, lying awake for hours, watching her sleep, content with the mere sight of her breasts rising and falling as she breathed. Her beauty was infinite, external and internal. His love for her was infinite, a limitless love, a devoted love, a sexual love, an innocent love.

"It ain't true Lefty, you weren't really in da Irish Quartah, were you?" he asked her softly.

"It is. Me an Cray went togethah." He felt he should chastise her, but he didn't want to.

"I didn't want to go" she told him, looking up at him with a grin. He smiled and ran his hand through her smooth hair.

"I kept hoping you would come and get me Race, last night" she confessed as she rested against him. He sighed.

"I wanted to doll, but no one left da Lodging House las night." He pulled her into his lap and smirked.

"Tell ya what kid, tomorrow we'll spend da whole da in bed, makin up fa lost time"

"Mmmm" she leaned in and kissed him, blushing happily.

'

"How did dey meet?" Cray asked Blink. The two of them were sitting at a small table on the other side of the restaurant, far away and across from the large, loud table of newsies.

"Who?" Blink asked, sipping his soda.

"Racetrack an Lefty" she answered, nodding her head to where the were sitting cozily across the room. Blink smiled and yawned.

"Ah, dat is a good question Cray. A good question." He said wisely, tipping back in his chair. Cray laughed and kicked him under the table.

"Stop making fun a me, I'm serious." She insisted. He sighed.

"Well, I would jus like ta say, befoah I start dis famous tale, dat I am da reason Race an Lefty are togethah." He boasted.

"Really?" Cray asked amusedly, eyebrows raised.

"Yep. If it wasn't fa me, you nevah would have gotten ta go to dat lovely weddin a deres'."

"So, tell me how you played match maker" Cray demanded. Blink stretched.

"Well, it all started a few years ago, only a couple a months befoah you came heah. Racetrack Higgins was not da Racetrack Higgins den dat he is now. He was me best pal, othah den Mush, ya know, a crazy gambler wid a wicked talent fa cahds. But he was really independent, ya know? Always sold his papes alone, went off ta Coney Island alone for most a da day. He went to all da pahties wid us, an everyone loved him, but I tink inside he liked da peace an quiet of doin his own thing. Dat's why none of us evah really believed he's settle down wid a nice goil---he was jus too distant. An wicked sarcastic, cynical too, much, much moah dan he is now. God he was a smartass" Blink remembered.

"So what made him change like dat?" Cray asked as she motioned for another drink to be sent her way.

"Hold on, I'm getting deah." Blink told her, "but foist let's talk about me."

"Oh yes," Cray said, "Let's."

"When I was a strapping young lad of almost sixteen I saw da most beautiful goil I had evah seen. I saw her walkin down da street in a pair of baggy blue pants and suspenders, wid a stack a papes undah her arm an a little smudge a doit on her face. I didn't really know da newsgoils very well, 'cept Taylah a'course, cuz she kept dem all on such a tight leash. But I decided dat nothin would prevent me from meeting dis gorgeous goil. So da next day I combed my haih an washed my face an waited in Tibby's for her all day, hoping dat she would come in. An she did! So I woiked up da nerve ta tawk ta her, an she was very smart an funny an sweet, just as I had imagined she would be. When I asked her what her name was, she said----"

"Lefty?" Cray guessed. Blink frowned.

"Aw Cray, why'd ya hafta go an ruin da surprise?" he grinned an she laughed. "So anyways, a 'course she was Lefty, an befoah I knew it I had asked her to go on a date wid me. An she said yes! I was going ta take her down ta Coney Island to dat place right on da beach, ya know dat real nice place? Dat's weah I was going ta take my beautiful date."

"Did Race know about your date?" Cray asked.

"Nah, Mush an I nevah really told him about our dates, mainly because we knew he didn't really care. But when I came ta pick her up dat aftanoon at da Goils' Lodging House, I remembered dat I needed ta tawk ta Mush about some meeting we were goin ta have or somethin. I tink I also wanted ta show off my pretty date in front a him."

"You think?" Cray asked.

"So I went down ta da tracks wid Lefty, chatting her up all da way wid my wit an charm, until we got deah. We went inta weah Mush said he would meet me, out in da sunshine neah da track. An low an behold, who should be standin dere wid him, but Race! Cigarette in one hand, some money he'd jus won jingling in his pocket." Cray leaned foreword in her seat anxiously.

"An den?" Blink frowned.

"An den I made da biggest mistake a my life. I said, Heya Mush, heya Race." Blink sat, hands gesturing as though he was really meeting them.

"An dis was ya biggest mistake?"

"Yep. Cuz Race raised dose brown eyes ta greet me, but instead dey fell on Lefty. God I'll nevah forget da expression on his face. Nevah. Nevah in my entire life had I seen him look dat way."

"What way?" Cray asked quietly.

"Ya know dat look he gets when he sees Lefty across da room, I can't explain it, its like--"

"Yeah, I know what look ya tawkin about." Cray said. They sat in silence for a moment.

"Anyways, dat's da look he had on his face da foist time he saw Lefty. An I turned ta look at her, where she was standing, right next to me. She had da most perfect liddle smile on her face. Absolutely beautiful. Jus a liddle, happy, sweet, innocent smile. Dat's when I knew I'd nevah have a chance wid her. Dat's when I knew we'd nevah have a second date." Blink took a long drink and set the empty glass down on the table, looking slightly defeated. Cray decided to venture a question.

"So, den what happened?" Blink sighed.

"I didn't even get a chance ta introduce dem! Lefty jus walked foreword an said, 'I'm Lefty.' An Race looked down at her, smiling, I actually tink he'd forgotten his own name. An Mush looked at me wid a stupid grin. He thought it was da funniest ting in da woild dat Race had managed ta steal my date widout sayin a woid." Blink had a look of bitter amusement on his face that didn't suit him at all.

"An from dat day on Cray, dey were inseparable. Suddenly Race was happy all da time, dancing around da Lodgin House, humming, singing even. He'd be out every night, I don't know weah he was takin her; it wasn't like he had any money. But woid got around an soon everyone knew about dem. An no one could believe it! One a da most beautiful goils in da City, goin out wid Racetrack Higgins, dat skinny, smartass Italian. Even Jack couldn't believe it. He jus laughed an laughed when Mush told him."

"So I guess dat whole 'love at foist sight' thing really is true" Cray mused, smiling. Blink shrugged.

"I dunno. Race had nevah seen her befoah dat day, so maybe he was just in awe of how pretty she was. But dat smile on her face...maybe it was love" Blink twisted his hat around him his lap.

"Were you angry at Race, did he really steal her?" Cray asked.

"Nah, he didn't even realize I was interested in her. We ended up staying at da tracks da whole day, an dey jus tawked an tawked. I left early wid Mush, an he walked her home. She forgot about me, an we became friends. Jus friends." Cray felt sorry she had asked for his account of the story. It would have been better, and more amusing, to ask Mush.

"Aw Blink, I'm sorry. But you've got Asia, an you love her, don't you?" Cray asked. She knew Blink loved Asia, she was sure of it. In her mind she compared Asia and Lefty. True, Lefty was more naturally beautiful than Asia, and she was slower to anger and kinder overall. But Asia was much sexier than Lefty, with a more voluptuous body, and her deep, beckoning brown eyes. Still, she couldn't tell which one Blink would be better off with. Lefty was easy to love, while Asia was a challenge. Blink and Asia had always been a bit of an odd couple to her, while she couldn't imagine Race with anyone other than Lefty.

"Don't tell either of them I tawked ta you about dis Cray" Blink told her.

"I won't." Cray promised. He sighed and put a few dimes on the table, before grabbing his hat, giving her a brief, forced smile, and leaving the restaurant. She stared at the floor, feeling both sad and guilty. Blink was happy being with Asia, she was sure of it. But somehow she felt that his initial feelings for Lefty hadn't completely faded away, and she felt sorry for opening such an old wound.

Cray glanced over to the table where Race and Lefty were sitting, watching Race bouncing Anthony on his lap. Mush and Ringlets were getting up to leave, hand in hand. She sighed, a strange feeling of misplacement coming over her, a quick feeling of not-belonging. It rarely ever happened to her, even back when she had just arrived at the Girls' Lodging House. But now she felt old, worn, not wise but weathered, as though she was an old woman watching a group of children play in the park. The newsies sitting and talking around her weren't rich, well-educated or nicely-clothed. They had their problems with money and relationships, but overall their lives were easy, Cray suddenly realized, almost simple. There was so much good outweighing the bad in their world, so much love and happiness. Cray had watched her mother's murder at the age of seven. She had sold her body to survive since the age of twelve, and she was born among the lowest members of society. Within the short years of her like she had known such misery, such anger and depression, more so she felt than any of the people in the room with her. How had they managed to gain such a security in their lives she could not fathom, and yet she was not jealous but bemused. What secret did they all share? What did they know about living that she didn't? Had she come into their circle to late to ever fully attain their universal happiness? All this Cray pondered as she crossed the dark and empty street towards Brooklyn, where she knew Spot would be, sitting up awake, talking to the Birds about God-knows-what. Of course she would not share her thoughts with him; their relationship was not that of long, meaningful talks. But perhaps he would sense the restlessness within her, as he sometimes did, and safely and closely as he so infrequently did, and she could catch a moment of the bliss she so passionately desired.