Interlude:
Zoe was transfixed by pagan's story. "whoah..." was all she could say. When pagan mentioned jack to her it would always be in anecdotes. This was the first time pagan had really talked about him, or her life before they became friends. Of course zoe knew pagan had been a newsie, but pagan had never revealed that they were an important part of her life, practically her family.
Zoe had no idea jack had been that special. All pagan had really said about him was that he was her bunkmate and selling partner. Zoe had always suspected pagan had had a crush on jack, but now she knew that they weren't talking in terms of crushes, or flings that lasted a couple of days or weeks. This wasn't even about months. This was about years.
" so what happened?" zoe asked, knowing there had to be more to the story for pagan to have bristled at what racetrack had said to her earlier. It didn't seem as if pagan was looking forward to seeing jack. It seemed more like she was scared. " what happened, pag'?"
pagan sighed. " trouble."
5.
jack was coming home from the jacobs' when he noticed a fancy black carriage was parked in front of the lodging house. Whatevah it is, I didn't do it, he thought grimly, ready for some kind of accusation to be hurled at him. Stealthily, he made his way to the side entrance. From where he stood, he saw a couple of stern faced old nuns standing behind a gaunt man, who was speaking in whispers with kloppman. Racetrack was close by, the color drained from his face, and fidgeting around as if he didn't know whether to get away or to stay to hear what was being talked about.
What's goin' on? Jack thought. Someone die? Jack crept in. neither kloppman nor the strangers paid any attention to him, but still, the outsiders were a signal that something was terribly wrong.
"race," jack said, his mouth set in a tight line.
"wheah's pagan?" racetrack hissed fiercely. "why ain't she wit' youse?"
he pulled jack away from earshot of the uninvited trio.
" what's goin' on is what I wanna know!" jack said loudly. He didn't like the confusion and the panicked look in racetrack's eyes.
"shhh!" race said. " keep it down, jack! Wheah is she?"
jack tried to think. " I ain't sure," he said. " she left with skittery owahs ago,"
"deys lookin' fah her," race whispered. He glance briefly at the nuns. " let's go outside."
As they made their way back out, jack tried to catch kloppman's eye, but the old man avoided his searching look.
Once safely out of sight and earshot, racetrack began talking. "dis don't look good, jack. Deys been heah a long time, askin' around fah pagan." He shook his head, avoiding jack's eyes.
Jack must've closed his eyes because his world had suddenly grown very black. Blood rushed to his head. "why?"
" kloppman," racetrack struggled to get the words out. " he ain't tellin' 'em nuttin' jack, jus' like he done fah youse...he ain't...but they found her...days sayin'..."
"calm down race," jack said, fighting for some control against this downward spiral of terror in his heart." Tell me. Ise lis'nin. Ise lis'nin."
"she's sick, jack," racetrack spat out, as if he had to tear the words from his chest painfully. "she's..." he stopped, as if pulling the words out were slashing his tongue into ribbons.
"what yah sayin' race, dat she's dyin'?" jack couldn't imagine it. "naw! dat's gotta be a lie!"
racetrack was shaking his head miserably. He couldn't bring himself to be the one to tell jack what he'd just heard inside.
The nuns and the gaunt man brushed past them to leave. Racetrack turned around so they wouldn't see the look in his face but jack followed the man with daggers in his eyes. Klopman had walked them out. The old man walked with exhaustion in his step. He was hunched over in worry, but his relief was also apparent that the "guests" were finally leaving.
"we'll be in touch," the gaunt man said in a chilling morose voice. He reeked of death. Nobody said a word until the carriage melted into the shadows and the horses' hooves faded into an echo. Kloppman stared seriously at jack. " let's talk," said the old man.
"they had papers with them. Hospital documents," kloppman said, sighing, like he didn't know how to fix this. " I didn't wanna say nuttin'," he said helplessly. He met jack's gaze levelly. " my foist priority has always been to protect you all." He said it as if to pre-empt his next statement. "pagan's a good goil."
" pagan's MY goil," jack said, choosing to say it out loud, for it was one thing he was certain was still true. He wanted to hang on to that, because it felt like everything he knew to be true was now spinning out of control. " what dey want from her?"
" somet'ins wrong wit' her, jack." Kloppman paused. " she's got problems."
" yeah, well allah us got problems!" jack shot back.
"you know what I mean, jack," kloppman said wearily.
"dat's a lie!" jack said angrily. " dere ain't nuttin' wrong wit' pagan! She's fine!" disgusted, jack ran out of the lodging house.
Pagan and skittery did not return to the lodging house that night. Jack looked all over the city for her without luck. When the sun rose, he was still wandering around.
Angry. Confused. Hurt. Helpless. Broken.
Why was pagan sick? What were the scars she was hiding?
The rising sun had never felt as cold and metallic as that morning. The first light mixed the cold of night and the heat of morning in a most uncomfortable way . brightness offered him no sympathy. Daylight was supposed to make the darkness disappear, but instead, the light pushed the shadows back into jack's heart.
Zoe was transfixed by pagan's story. "whoah..." was all she could say. When pagan mentioned jack to her it would always be in anecdotes. This was the first time pagan had really talked about him, or her life before they became friends. Of course zoe knew pagan had been a newsie, but pagan had never revealed that they were an important part of her life, practically her family.
Zoe had no idea jack had been that special. All pagan had really said about him was that he was her bunkmate and selling partner. Zoe had always suspected pagan had had a crush on jack, but now she knew that they weren't talking in terms of crushes, or flings that lasted a couple of days or weeks. This wasn't even about months. This was about years.
" so what happened?" zoe asked, knowing there had to be more to the story for pagan to have bristled at what racetrack had said to her earlier. It didn't seem as if pagan was looking forward to seeing jack. It seemed more like she was scared. " what happened, pag'?"
pagan sighed. " trouble."
5.
jack was coming home from the jacobs' when he noticed a fancy black carriage was parked in front of the lodging house. Whatevah it is, I didn't do it, he thought grimly, ready for some kind of accusation to be hurled at him. Stealthily, he made his way to the side entrance. From where he stood, he saw a couple of stern faced old nuns standing behind a gaunt man, who was speaking in whispers with kloppman. Racetrack was close by, the color drained from his face, and fidgeting around as if he didn't know whether to get away or to stay to hear what was being talked about.
What's goin' on? Jack thought. Someone die? Jack crept in. neither kloppman nor the strangers paid any attention to him, but still, the outsiders were a signal that something was terribly wrong.
"race," jack said, his mouth set in a tight line.
"wheah's pagan?" racetrack hissed fiercely. "why ain't she wit' youse?"
he pulled jack away from earshot of the uninvited trio.
" what's goin' on is what I wanna know!" jack said loudly. He didn't like the confusion and the panicked look in racetrack's eyes.
"shhh!" race said. " keep it down, jack! Wheah is she?"
jack tried to think. " I ain't sure," he said. " she left with skittery owahs ago,"
"deys lookin' fah her," race whispered. He glance briefly at the nuns. " let's go outside."
As they made their way back out, jack tried to catch kloppman's eye, but the old man avoided his searching look.
Once safely out of sight and earshot, racetrack began talking. "dis don't look good, jack. Deys been heah a long time, askin' around fah pagan." He shook his head, avoiding jack's eyes.
Jack must've closed his eyes because his world had suddenly grown very black. Blood rushed to his head. "why?"
" kloppman," racetrack struggled to get the words out. " he ain't tellin' 'em nuttin' jack, jus' like he done fah youse...he ain't...but they found her...days sayin'..."
"calm down race," jack said, fighting for some control against this downward spiral of terror in his heart." Tell me. Ise lis'nin. Ise lis'nin."
"she's sick, jack," racetrack spat out, as if he had to tear the words from his chest painfully. "she's..." he stopped, as if pulling the words out were slashing his tongue into ribbons.
"what yah sayin' race, dat she's dyin'?" jack couldn't imagine it. "naw! dat's gotta be a lie!"
racetrack was shaking his head miserably. He couldn't bring himself to be the one to tell jack what he'd just heard inside.
The nuns and the gaunt man brushed past them to leave. Racetrack turned around so they wouldn't see the look in his face but jack followed the man with daggers in his eyes. Klopman had walked them out. The old man walked with exhaustion in his step. He was hunched over in worry, but his relief was also apparent that the "guests" were finally leaving.
"we'll be in touch," the gaunt man said in a chilling morose voice. He reeked of death. Nobody said a word until the carriage melted into the shadows and the horses' hooves faded into an echo. Kloppman stared seriously at jack. " let's talk," said the old man.
"they had papers with them. Hospital documents," kloppman said, sighing, like he didn't know how to fix this. " I didn't wanna say nuttin'," he said helplessly. He met jack's gaze levelly. " my foist priority has always been to protect you all." He said it as if to pre-empt his next statement. "pagan's a good goil."
" pagan's MY goil," jack said, choosing to say it out loud, for it was one thing he was certain was still true. He wanted to hang on to that, because it felt like everything he knew to be true was now spinning out of control. " what dey want from her?"
" somet'ins wrong wit' her, jack." Kloppman paused. " she's got problems."
" yeah, well allah us got problems!" jack shot back.
"you know what I mean, jack," kloppman said wearily.
"dat's a lie!" jack said angrily. " dere ain't nuttin' wrong wit' pagan! She's fine!" disgusted, jack ran out of the lodging house.
Pagan and skittery did not return to the lodging house that night. Jack looked all over the city for her without luck. When the sun rose, he was still wandering around.
Angry. Confused. Hurt. Helpless. Broken.
Why was pagan sick? What were the scars she was hiding?
The rising sun had never felt as cold and metallic as that morning. The first light mixed the cold of night and the heat of morning in a most uncomfortable way . brightness offered him no sympathy. Daylight was supposed to make the darkness disappear, but instead, the light pushed the shadows back into jack's heart.