After the beautiful show, they decided to go count the money at the lodge, cause… why not? It was close, and dry. Just as the show had ended, the sky began "crying", as Charlie said when little.
They ran to the Lodge, and thanked God when they arrived. They went to the bedroom, sat at the 'poker table', and counted their money.
"How much we got?" David looked up.
"Two dollars and seventy five cents." Charlie grinned. They both hadn't earns that much since she turned ten. That kid, that kid was getting them places. A.k.a, Santa Fe.
"Not bad. Not bad at all." Jack grabbed the dice, looking at Les. "Ever shoot craps, kid?" David glared at him. Charlie chuckled.
"Kiddin', Dave. Kiddin'." Both Charlie and David looked at the clock. 7:00 p.m.
"It's gettin' late. My parents will be worried. Better get going." David said. Charlie nodded.
"Well, nice meetin' ya Dave. Bye." She said it as quickly as she could, afraid that they would be asked to join them. Why? David probably had a mother, and mentioned earlier he had sisters. They probably wore skirts and fancy clothes. And what did she wear? Boy clothes. She didn't want to risk being disliked by his family.
Jack looked at her quizzingly. "We'll walk ya home." Charlie looked at her brother with pleading eyes, begging him to let her stay. He simply rolled his eyes, and picked Les up, who was falling asleep.
The walk was unusually silent, until a loud BANG was heard nearby. They all rushed there, and watched as the Trolley Workers cracked a few- a lot of heads. Charlie looked at it , terrified. People were fighting everywhere, a wagon was on fire, horses screeching, people yelling, a man with a burnt hand..There were a lot of people, some even young boys, probably helping their fathers. Boys that probably had a bright future ahead, but would probably die from an injury by the strike.
She tugged Jack's hat backwards. "C'mon, let's get outta here!" He ignored her.
"It's the Trolley Strike, Dave! This couple a' dumbasses must've not joined!" Charlie rolled her eyes.
"Jack, let's get out of here!" David exclaimed. "Why don't we divvy up at my place...? You can meet my folks…" Charlie's eyes widened, Jack nodded.
"Sure." He picked Les up again, and they began walking.
Again, the walk was silent, until Jack noticed David was still shaken by the earlier scene.
"They crack a few heads. What's the big deal?" Charlie was unavail to hold back her laugh. She ran a hand through her hair, looking straight ahead.
"People loose their jobs, everyone suffers." Charlie said. Jack shrugged.
"Not the rich."
They entered a long staircase with various doors and hallways. At the very top, the was something like a bridge that connected to the next building.
"Next building. Want me to take'm?" Jack shook his head.
"Nah, I got'm." He paused, looking at David. "What floor ya' on?" He looked up, then at the siblings.
"Fifth." Jack immediately passed Les to David.
After a long, long time, they arrived at the next building, and the fifth floor. By now, Charlie had two beautiful Dutch braids on her hair. You wouldn't imagine how long it took for David to climb those stairs. Anyway, they were there, and Charlie was half ready to face what could be a dream, or a nightmare.
David opened the door, she looked inside. It was crowded, clean and well ordered. A warm one room apartment which serves as both a working and living area .. two windows to a fire escape looked into an alley. David's mother looked up from her piecework as the door opened and Jack carried Les inside. Her hand came to her mouth in fright.
"My God, what happened?!" David smiled.
"Nothing, Momma, he's just sleepin'." Esther took Les away from Jack, placing him in her bed. Charlie looked around.
Two girls were reading peacefully on the couch, and another boy with a bandaged arm joined them. Charlie looked at him. He looked familiar. She realized she was staring and looked at the ground, deep in thought. He looked familiar. Way too familiar.
She looked at her brother, a smile on his face as he looked around the home. To them, the Taj Majal. There was warm food on the table, four beds with clean sheets… everything they had dreamt about the past seven years. The older girl looked up at them. She studied them both, and, unlike what Charlie thought she would do, she smiled at her. She smiled back. A half smile, maybe, but it was all she could muster, looking at her, her self esteem lower than it already was.
David, who noticed his father staring at both of them, introduced them. "These are my friends Jack and Charlie." He looked at Jack. "My parents... and that's Sarah. My oldest sister." Jack, who had barely noticed her, now stared at her, tongue-tied. Charlie chuckled. She nudged his ribs lightly, "Then Samantha and Michael. They're twins." He turned to his father, who was awkwardly folding the newspaper with one hand, since the other was bandaged. "Jack, Charlie, Les and I are partners." Meyer nodded.
"Would you like to join us? We only got soup, but I'm sure it'll do." Charlie fidgeted with her fingers.
"I don't know… I'm sorta expected…" She caught the sharp glance her brother was giving her. Any look to anyone, but a warning to her. She gulped. "Maybe just a bowl." Esther added water to the soup. Samantha stood up, and whispered to her father.
"If Charlie can sell papers, why can't I?" Meyer sighed. She had been begging to go too.
"Fine. You can go tomorrow, and… we'll see how you do." Sam smiled.
"Thanks!"
They all sat down, quiet for a moment, but eventually, they began talking. "How long have you been selling papers?" Meyer asked.
Jack looked at Charlie. He sighed. "Around seven years now. Started when I was ten, Charlie six." Jack smiled. "Sold many papes when she was little. Just like with Les right now."
Meyer nodded. "Is it hard now? Selling papers. The last ones I've read have pretty boring headlines." Jack nodded,
"Not to us. Charlie here, Can turn the most horrible, less elaborate headline, into the thing you'd wannna read. She's got huge creativity." Charlie dug deeper into her soup, if that's even possible. She normally wasn't shy, she had no idea why now, of all times, she was acting like that. She didn't have any idea why Jack was bragging about her now either. "Could be a writer some day. Writes amazing stories."
Esther looked at her, smiling. "Really? What type of stories do you write?" Charlie looked up.
"Uh..Normal ones…" She dug her foot in Jack's. He only chuckled. Sam chuckled at her answer. "Normally short ones. Last one at least hundred pages." Sam looked at her.
"That's short?"
Meyer shot her a look. Charlie shrugged. "I can do bettah." She nudged Jack with her foot again. He didn't budge. "So, from what I saw today, your boys are a couple of born Newsies. So with 'is "God Given Talent"" She moved her fingers as quotation marks, though not doubting it a bit. "and their hard woik we could possibly sell around.. a thousand papes a week." Meyer looked surprised.
"Really? That many?" Jack nodded.
"More when the headlines are good." Sarah brought him a bowl of soup. Another one.
"And what makes a headline good?" The way Jack was talking about her earlier, Charlie would've guessed he'd say 'Charlie'. She was more terrified, traumatized (than she already was), surprised when he said,
"Catchy woods like, maniac, or like, uh, 'corpse' or 'maniac,' or, let's see, 'love nest' or-"'Nut Boy Creates Awkward Conversation, Recommended to Shut Up'" She glared at him. There was a silence. Jack glared at her.
"Anyways.." Charlie interrupted. "'Trolley Strike Drags on for Third Week'. Whoever's writing that's killing us. Nobody cares anymore. Do either they're done with it, or we'll starve." Meyer nodded.
"The problem is, that the working class and the hiring class got nothing in common."
Jack nodded. Charlie was 100% sure he didn't get a word of it. "I agree with you there." Charlie chuckled. "Um.. What do you do for a living, sir?" Charlie closed her eyes. It was clear enough it was a sore subject for the family. A kid working? No job in the family, an orphan or a runaway. He had always told her to not ask anything personal about a new kid, yet here he was..
"Not much with this arm, son." Charlie nudged him, glared at him, hoping he'd catch the sign.
"I'm sorry to ask, but what happened to your arm?"
"He was caught striking. They busted it for'im." Michael explained. Charlie nodded.
An awkward silence. "Sarah.. go bring the cake your mother's hiding in the cabinet." Esther gasped.
"That's for your birthday tomorrow!" Meyer smiled.
"I've had enough birthdays. This is a celebration!" Charlie nearly jumped. They brought the knives and the plates, and little by little, a family picture was painted right in front of Jack and Charlie. She looked at Jack. Then at the family she wished they had. I got my brother. That's more than enough. She kept telling herself. But she knew she had always wanted more of that. Ever since.. never mind.
Later on, Sarah got herself ready for bed, while Sam and Charlie talked.
"Got a question since you walked in." San said. Charlie nodded. "Are you always that shy, or is it just cause my twin was staring at you?" Charlie frowned.
"What?"
Sam smiled. "You didn't notice him drooling all over you?" Charlie laughed.
"I barely do. I'll tell you what I did notice." Charlie looked over at her brother. "I noticed someone taking a step too far with someone else." Sam laughed.
"That headline.. best one I've heard in a long time." Sam said. Charlie nodded. "Have you really been selling papes that long?"
"Yup." Charlie looked at her. "Why?"
Sam shrugged. "Told dad if I could since the beginning of this… mess. He finally said yes today."
"So you're gonna go selling tomorrow." Charlie clarified. Sam nodded. "K. So, for you to not look like a complete and utter idiot like your brotha today- no offence." Sam shrugged.
"Non taken."
"You need, NEED to spit-shake." Sam tilted her head a little. "It's rude to not spit shake. If you're in another territory, it's the worst thing you can do." Sam nodded.
So for the next half hour, Charlie taught her everything. When Charlie had to leave, Sam was completely prepared for tomorrow. Or was she?