David's feet couldn't run across Washington Square Park fast enough.

"'ey!" Racetrack shouted at David, his hands held out in disbelief. The guys turned at Race's voice and followed him, watching David run towards them.

"I think that's the fastest I ever seen 'im run," Snoddy said with a broad grin.

The guys laughed, but Jack picked up the eagerness in David's face as he got closer. Something happened.

"Ya forget somethin', Davie?" Race yelled angrily, his eyebrows drawn. "I didn't know your memory was so shitty-"

"Medda!" David shouted as his feet came to a pounding halt, running into Mush to stop himself. He panted heavily, looking up to see the others frozen where they stood, their eyes stunned wide. David looked up at Jack's face, his stony expression melting away, replaced by the glint of excitement in his eyes.

"It's her, Jack," David managed to say. "Medda, here, in New York."

David's body was a live wire, humming with energy and excitement. And it was spreading to the others, their limbs twitching and moving restlessly as David's words sank in.

"Are you fuckin' jokin'?" Snoddy asked hoarsely.

David shook his head as he doubled over, gripping his knees. "I saw her... outside the sandwich shop."

The guys moved forward suddenly, looking around and expecting to see her behind David.

"She had to leave," David said to them. "I begged her to come with me. She was too much of a wreck-"

Jack's gaze was still frozen on David.

"Medda?" he asked quietly. "You sure, Dave?"

David looked up at Jack, nodding. "Yeah. It's her. It's so her." David let out a laugh, still in disbelief. "But her name is Camille here, Camille Larkson. I saw her-I followed her. She lost it-she started crying in the middle of the sidewalk."

"'Medda Larkson, the Swedish Meadowlark'," Specs mused, smiling gently. "She kept part of her name."

The guys all had little amazed smiles on their faces. They felt like it was a dream, something from a movie; too good to be true. And she was here, like Ira, walking around this amazing city, living their own lives.

"So what happened?" Mush asked as his smile grew bigger, brighter. "What'd she say?"

The guys gathered around David and Jack, their ears alert. David grinned at Jack, standing up straight.

"She pulled me into an ally," David breathed. "She hugged me so tight I thought she was gonna break me. She couldn't believe it was me, talked so fast I couldn't keep up. She started drilling me with questions, and asked if anyone else was here too. Asked about you, Jack. I told her you were here, and then she really lost it."

The guys laughed and Jack felt his lips smile more, chuckling, disbelieving. Medda, here, in 2016.

"She gave me her address," David said, pulling out a crumpled pamphlet. "She's a producer guys, on Broadway."

The guys moved all at once, their hands grabbing at the paper, gathering closer to look at the playbill for "Hamilton", with the name Camille Larkson typed at the top.

"I'll be damned," Race said. He read the address aloud and gave a low whistle, "Upper East Side. She's sittin' pretty."

"She wants everyone there tonight," David said.

"Hope she lives in a penthouse," Bumlets said, shaking his head. "We require a lot of room these days, huh cowboy?"

Bumlets and Snoddy elbowed Jack teasingly, laughing as Jack tried to block them. But soon all of them were laughing and clapping each other on the backs and shoulder, overjoyed and thrilled that they had one more familiar face in this world. And of all the faces, Medda's was one they thought they'd never get to see again. They'd still talk about her, mention her in passing with a sad glint in their eyes. The only mother any of them had known wasn't likely to be here. And, like many times before, she'd proven them wrong.

"Race, text Spot," Mush shouted over everyone's horseplay.

"Damn it!" Race said, fishing for the phone in his pockets.


The guys dressed a little nicer than usual; they wore their nice sweaters and button downs. They thundered out of their apartments and down the stairs, leaping and jumping as they used to when they left the newsie lodging house. After arguing over shotgun and cramming themselves into Boots' taxi and David's car: David, Boots, Jack, Spot, Mush, Racetrack, Snoddy, Bumlets, Specs. David took the lead, who was taking directions from Race's GPS.

"Don't get us lost," Mush said, glancing at Race's phone from the back seat.

"Ye of little faith," Race said as he punched in the address. "'s tha last time I help you bunch of knuckle heads."

"What a relief," Spot said with a mischievous smile, dodging as Race reached back to hit him.

"Easy!" Jack shouted. He was sitting behind David, trying to sit forward as far as he could to look out the windshield to see where they were going. None of them had been to the Upper East Side since...1901.

The drive was hectic with shouts of input from every loud mouth present, talking over Siri's instructions.

"'ey, 'ey!" Race belted, "Enough back seat drivin'!"

"You'd be doin' tha same thing if yous was sittin' back here, ass wipe!" Spot shouted.

Race whipped around in his seat and managed to land his fist into Spot's stomach before David jerked the wheel to the right, knocking Race back and everyone in the back into Jack's empty seat.

Jack, kneeling in the floor board and his arms resting on David's seat, looked back at his friends, "'ey, knock it off!"

"Cool it!" David shouted, unbuckling his seat belt. "We're here."

Jack was the first out of the back seat, straightening his black button down, looking up and down the street. Spot and Race were still yelling at each other.

"If yous guys don't shut the fuck up, I'll soak ya," Jack shouted.

Two older ladies walking down the street stared at the group of young men and Jack and the others laughed.

But once they looked around, they got quiet; they're fingers fidgeted with their collared shirts, the buttons at their sleeve cuffs. Townhouses and apartments towered over them on either side of the street, painted in cream and gray tones. The trees lining the median and sidewalks were already touched with fall colors of orange and red, and the sidewalks were the cleanest they'd ever seen. It was a picture straight from "fall scenes in New York" on Google search.

David squinted at the door signs on the buildings, the address playbill clutched in his hand. He read it again, then looked up at the building a little further ahead than where they had parked.

"Here!" he shouted, running up the street to one of the apartment buildings. The guys followed David, their steps slowed as they stared up at the building.

Spot ran his fingers through his cropped hair, smoothing the long strands to the side. "This side of town is squeaky clean."

Mush smiled as he followed Race and David up the stairs to the front door. "She deserves every bit of it."

Spot bounded up the stairs and peered over David and Race's shoulder to the playbill.

"Which numba, which numba?" Spot asked impatiently, bumping into Race.

"So help me God I will punch you again, don't think I won't," Race muttered darkly as David punched in 17 into the call box.

The guys had all gathered around David, Jack waiting with his hand on the door. There wasn't a voice in the speaker, but there was a beep and the door unlocked. Jack whipped it open and the guys filed in right behind him, whooping and shouting, clearly fired up as they rushed to the elevator. All nine of them crammed inside and rode up to the 17th floor.

Jack stood at the front, his body restless as he watched the numbers change at the top of the doors. The guys behind him were arguing.

"If you so much as crinkle my shirt I swear-" Snoddy said to Specs.

"Say it, don't spray it," Specs said, leaning away from him, wiping his glasses.

"The hell did you just say?" Spot asked. "'Say it, don't spray it?' Tha fuck is that?"

"It's a sayin' from tha nineties!" Bumlets shouted from the back. "Ya know, that one era we lived in."

"God I feel so old," Mush said, shaking his head. He turned to look at the guys, "Ya eva think about that? We're over 100 years old."

"And I look fabulous," Race said, smoothing his hair.

The elevator boomed with laughter.

Then the elevator doors opened, and all fell quiet.