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Bright Eyes reached her selling spot just as the other boys were spreading out and taking their spots. Racetrack came and patted her on the back as she walked up. "Hey how ya doin' Bright? Got lotsa sellin' ta do teday ya know?" Bright Eyes forced a smile and patted the boy's back softly. "Yeah I know dat. How ya doin'? You look like ya've gotta bad taste in yer mout' or sometin'." Racetrack rolled his eyes and stooped closer to Bright Eyes. "Davey's here fer da weekend, an' he wants ta sell wit' ya." Bright Eyes raised her eyebrows mischievously. "Is dat a problem? Race?" Racetrack lit a cigar and shoved it into his mouth attempting to hide the growing red spots on his cheeks. "It ain't a problem. Its jest, he jest gets on my neives. He's so clean an'as he says 'learned' dat I jest hate it when he comes. Acts like he knows more dan us, which he does. But dat doesn't mean dat he's gotta flounce himself around like a goil wit' new clothes does it?"
"Hey Bright Eyes, Racetrack. Lets get sellin'!" David's voice boomed behind the two. Racetrack clutched his ears mockingly and whispered. "An' I also hate da way he tries ta get an' accent!" Bright Eyes grinned and patted him on the back as he walked away. "So Bright! I haven't seen you in a while eh?" Bright Eyes shrugged. "Guess not." David forced a smile. "Well there was a most interesting chapter in history today, that I thought you might be interested in. It was about King Arthur and his nights and a Round Table." With that, David proceeded to tell the classic story, rather badly into Bright Eyes' ears that on the outside were open, but on the inside, were slammed shut. Inside she was thinking of how to get rid of David, so that she could intercept the ticket that would take her away from her home.
Bright Eyes' question was answered not long after she and David arrived in their selling spot. The girl spotted Oscar sauntering up the street a long way off, and her eyes quickly gazed at her surroundings. Two fruit carts being driven by Italian men, were coming right past her and David. Without warning, she dashed between the two of them, causing them to stop abruptly and crash into each other. David stopped and helped the men pick up the fallen fruits as they yelled at him. Bright Eyes reached Oscar out of breath and furious. "Well I'm hea. Where is it?" Oscar smiled. "Well someone's been workin' out today." Bright Eyes smacked the boy's arm, rage filling her pained eyes. "Jest gimme 'em Osca!" "My, my. Temper, temper. Maybe they should've called ya Fire Head. Here you are, your ticket out of here." Bright Eyes snatched the ticket in Oscar's outstretched hand and ran off. Oscar grinned and smiled to himself. "Well that's one pest gone. And good riddance too."
"Bright Eyes! Bright Eyes! Come help me pick up these fruits that you made these men spill! Bright Eyes!" David yelled as he continued to pick up the fruits, all the while being kicked slightly on the rump by the men on both sides. Bright Eyes stomped to David's side and grasped his collar in her hand. "Listen ta me Mista 'Learned'. I ain't gonna fall fer yer high an' mighty airs and yer school lessons. You can just sit yer educated butt on da ground an' pick up those fruits by yerself. I ain't gonna help ya. I'm gonna sell BY MYSELF! Is dat very clear?" David nodded, astonished by her outburst. Bright Eyes smiled semi-sweetly, shouldered her papers and walked off briskly, leaving David with the two fruit vendors. As he watched her stomp off, he suddenly noticed a small piece of paper clutched in her clenched fist.
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Bright Eyes conquered her own obstacle that day. She sold all of the 250 papers that she had bought, earning herself money for the dreaded trip that would take place that night. As she gloomily trudged home, she thought about what was going to happen in the next few hours. She came to the conclusion that she was not going to go through the night as quiet as a mouse and show everyone of her friends her gloomy face. No, she was going to make it the most treasured night of her life. She started by grinning to herself and then whistled an old Irish tune from long ago as she skipped up the stairs of the Lodging House.
"Heya guys! How 'bout some poka? Hey Race, deal da cawds! I'm bettin' tenight!" The boys laughed and spread around the old table in the bedroom, Racetrack shuffling and dealing the cards with a sly grin spread across his face, his "Gambling look" as Bright Eyes called it. Two hours later, all of Bright Eyes' money was gone, but in her last hand, she bet two more dollars. Snipeshooter leaned up to Bright Eyes ear and whispered, "How ya gonna do dat if ya don't have anymore money? I know dat ya don't got anymore!" Bright Eyes smiled cockily and pressed her cards to her chest. " Yeah, but Race don't know dat right? So lets jest say dat I trust me cawds." She winked at the boy as he sat down uncertainly.
Racetrack eased back in his chair with a grin as Bright Eyes made her bet. "Ok Bright. Hows dis? Full House!" Racetrack triumphantly laid his cards on the table with a flourish and lit a cigar. Bright Eyes shook her head in defeat. "Dats good Race, but not dat good." With that she laid down her cards which produced a ripple effect of surprise around the room. "Two pair. Aces." Racetrack's cigar fell out of his mouth in astonishment. Bright Eyes grinned and pulled the pile of money toward her and began to count it. "5 dolla's an' 50 cents. Nice playin' Race." Racetrack groaned and clutched his hat as Kid Blink patted his back comfortingly. The clock in the hall struck ten and the boys stood up and stretched.
"Wait a sec boys! I wants ta sing ya a song dat I heaid a long, long time ago." Snipeshooter moaned. "Is it one of dem sappy Irish love songs? 'Cause if it has anytin' ta do wit' love, I swear I'll kill myself!" Some of the boys agreed in unison, but Racetrack and Jack both told the complainers to 'shut up and listen.' Bright Eyes seated herself in a chair as the boys gathered around her to listen.
Help me my friends help me,
I've got to go away.
From the homeland I love,
To a land far away,
Beyond the County Cork's shore.
Help me my friends, help me,
Give me a token to remember you by.
And don't ever forget me,
Though I never come back.
How I shall miss,
This homeland of mine.
Oh how shall I miss,
My beloved friends and family.
But what must be done,
Must be done,
And so my friends,
Remember me.
I'm goin' away for a while my friends,
But I'll be back someday.
Never fear, though hell should bar the way,
I'll be back someday.
As Bright Eyes ended the haunting melody, the boys were silent. Jack stared at his shoes and Racetrack looked at Bright Eyes for a moment, but when she turned to meet his gaze, he turned away. The rest of the boys sat quietly, till Crutchy remarked, "Well I'll be. Dats one of da prettiest hymns I've eva heaid ya sing Brighty. Where did ya hear it?" Bright Eyes smiled. "I heaid it when I was a little goil. Me momma sung it to me. Don't remember her, but da song jest stuck wit me all dese years." As she gazed at all the gloomy faces, she laughed. "Well I do believe dat I've spoiled da mood. Let me tell ya a story about the princess Danae."
And she proceeded to captivate her listeners and brought them to the land of Ireland, far away from New York. For but a few moments, the boy's thoughts were not on papers, or hunger, or how they would live the next day. They were captivated with the story, it coming from an experienced tongue. They saw the bright green hills, and heard the elvin call echo through the lush green forests. They saw the beautiful Princess Danae, her waist length red hair flying recklessly in the ocean wind. They were astonished that such things could even be told by a human tongue, to them, it was like a sort of heaven, and when it ended, there were protests all round. "Tell us more Brighty! More! More!" Came the resounding shouts, to which the smiling girl had to comply. At 10:30 though, the story telling came to an end and the bunk beds were filled with boys.
Bright Eyes made rounds that night, saying goodnight to her comrades who all thanked her heartily for the stories. After she said goodnight to Racetrack, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. "Brighty, dose were da most beautiful tings' I've eva heaid. How come ya didn't tell us more of dose till now? Dey was wondaful. All da fairies an' elves an' leprechauns. An' dat story where da elf princess fell in love wit' da leprechaun, I loved dat."
Bright Eyes shrugged. "I don't know why I didn't tell them till now. I just assumed that you boys wouldn't want to hear them. But I'm glad that you liked them." Racetrack smiled his crooked smile that Bright Eyes had so often taken for granted, and she impressed it into her memory so that it would never be forgotten. "Bright? I gotta tell ya sometin'." Bright Eyes held her head up and listened. "Bright, I, well dat is. I tink dat, I love ya." Bright Eyes started. "Don't be mad Bright. I cain't help da way I feels. But I thought dat you should know. And I was wondrin' if ya felt da same way 'bout me?"
Bright Eyes gazed into the boy's eager brown eyes, tears filling her own as she spoke. "Yes. I do love you." Racetrack's grin spread from ear to ear and he grasped her hand and wiped away the tears now falling freely from the girl's eyes. "Hey now, dis ain't supposed ta make ya cry now. Yer supposed ta be happy" Bright Eyes smiled and wiped the tears off her nose. "I know. I am happy. Very, very happy. I gotta go Race." Racetrack gripped her hand for a moment longer then released it as Bright Eyes padded to her room and closed the door softly. He laid his head back on the pillow and breathed a sigh of relief that she felt the same way he did.
When she reached her room, Bright Eye collapsed on the bed, letting the tears drip silently down her cheeks. Then she sat down on her bed, grabbed a pencil and papers, and began to painstakingly write on them. She wrote until 11:05, when she sealed two papers and laid them gently on her bed. Then she began to pack only what was necessary and the things she loved best in her bag. When she finished, she blew out the lamp and stepped out of her door. She set her bag on the stairwell and crept over to the bed that held the snoring Jack Kelly. She lifted up his sweaty hand, kissed it and laid a letter under it. The other letter she placed on the nightstand by Racetrack's bed. She knelt down and gazed at the sleeping boy. Tears dropped from her eyes as she kissed his cheek tenderly and slipped on her plain silver ring of her mother's onto his finger. "Goodbye Racetrack. Don't forget me." She whispered softly.
Then she crept away and stood on the stairway for a moment and blew a kiss to the boys in the room. Then with a deep breath as a soldier going into battle, she shouldered her bag and tiptoed down the stairs and out the door. Down the familiar streets she scuttled, fitting in totally with the street's darkness. She knew that she was taking a dreadful risk of someone seeing her. The dock was in Brooklyn and Spot Conlon was a night owl. She was only a few blocks away when something scared her out of her wits. "Bright? Bright Eyes, dat you?" A male voice called out. At the sound of it, she ran, not caring if it was Spot, or anyone else, just so long as they didn't catch her and ask her where she was going and why.
Red stood in the street, totally confused. He was sure that the girl huddling past him was Bright Eyes, but when he called out, she ran like a cat from a dog. He didn't like that. It wasn't like his comrade to be that skittish. She would've at least acknowledged his presence, but she did not do that at all. "Gotta tell Spot. Maybe he'll know what ta do." The boy murmured as he ran towards Slingshot Way.
Spot Conlon shot another bottle clean through with his marble. He smiled to himself. He loved to win and loved his triumphs, which were many in his mind. But even a hero needs a break, and he felt that he would get one as his friend Red ran up, panting. "Whats da matta wit' ya? Ya bein' chased by somebody? Show me 'em an' I'll knock dere lights out!" Spot was feeling very heroic on this night. "Maybe da full moon's confusin' ya Spot. But I ain't bein' chased. I jest saw Bright Eyes run by here in an awful hurry." Spot Conlon missed his target as the boy spoke. He turned to face Red suspiciously. "Whaddya mean, runnin'?" Red shrugged. "Jest what I mean. I called her name an' she ran fasta dan she was already. She was headin' towards da dock." Spot glanced at the moon and nodded. "Yeah, from da looks of da moon its almost midnight. Dats too late fer even Bright ta be out. Gatha up a few of da boys an' form a scout team. We're gonna check dis out." Red nodded and in an instant fetched Knuckles, Tails, Kicks, Lonny, and Marbles.
The seven boys headed toward the dock, as silent as a lion sneaking up on his prey. Suddenly Lonny called out to Spot, "Spot, she's goin' to a ship!" Spot panicked. "Stay here ya boys! Let me go ahead!" And he ran up the steep rocks near the pier, sometimes falling and scraping his knees before he reached the top. When he reached it, out of breath and panting, he sat down hard at what he saw. What he saw was Bright Eyes turning in a ticket to the ticket master, shouldering her bag and stepping on the gangplank. She stopped before she reached the main deck and turned, surveying her surroundings for a minute, then walking onto the deck and holding onto the railing as the boat pushed off. "No. No, dis cain't be happenin'. No Bright." Spot whispered, tears choking his words as he watched his friend on the ship. Then suddenly on the wind came a familiar voice yelling, "Goodbye New Yawk!" Spot fiercely wiped the tears edging his gray blue eyes as the memories of his friend surged back in small wisps.
"Boy, I was wondering if you could recommend a place to stay?"
"Nope, don't know a place dat would take little goils."
"Is dat hard ta do? Ta sell papers?"
"Not in da least. Ya jest improve da headline a little!"
"'Scuse me hic? I seems ta be lost hic! Can ya point me to da direction of da bar hic? Or maybe me 'ome would be betta. No da bar!"
"Spot don't be silly! Ya ain't drunk!"
"I kin pretend if I wanna Brighty!"
"I gotta help 'em Spot!"
"Listen Bright. I ain't eva seen ya go into hysterics! Don't start now!"
"Ya okay Spot?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Jest beat up. What 'bout you?"
"I'm alright. I miss my momma though."
"Listen Bright, I'll always be da family ya need. I'll always be here."
"Danks Spot."
"No problem."
"Bright Eyes, what have ya done?" Spot whispered. "Can we do anythin' Spot?" Red's voice echoed up the rocks. "No. Nothin' kin be done." Spot choked. Red took off his hat and the others did the same as they waited for Spot. Spot sat on the rocks and waited till the ship was out of his sight. Then he stood and the Brooklyn leader straightened and walked bravely down the rocks to his friends below. "From now on, wheneva anyone askes 'bout a goil named Bright Eyes, tell 'em dat she's not here, she's jest a story. She don't exist." Spot slowly walked back to the Lodging House, leaving the boys to watch the water for a time and then follow his footsteps.
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The next morning found Racetrack awake at rousing time without Kloppman's help. When he sat up dozily, he felt on his nightside table for his cup of water and instead felt paper. He looked down and saw a whole cuban cigar sitting on top of a few pieces of paper. On his hand, was a somewhat familiar silver ring. He stuck the cigar in his mouth and opened the papers, his eyes going wide as he read.
Dear Racetrack,
I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, but if I do not do it now, you and the boys would be in serious trouble. I want you to know that I did say goodbye to you, you were just asleep and therefore could not protest my decision. I also want you to know that this is not your fault, or any of the others' faults. I am doing this of my own decision. The pain in my heart is worse than any physical pain that I have felt because of my having to leave you boys. Enclosed in these papers are the stories I told last night. Now you can have them forever and ever. I do love you very much. I will be back someday.
Love,
Bright Eyes
Racetrack's heart jumped to his throat as he read the letter. He flipped through the pages and made out the fairy stories that were painstakingly written down for her boy's sakes. Racetrack threw the papers on his bed and ran to Bright Eyes' room and opened the door. The bed was unslept in and the room was spotless. Racetrack slumped against the door and at the same time felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Jack standing behind him, his hand holding a piece of paper. "You got one too?" Jack nodded and sighed. "Dere was sometin' wrong wit' her Race. You an' I both knew dat. We gotta respect her decision though, no matta how much we hate it."
Racetrack nodded and turned away from the room and gently closed the door. "Who's dat letta to? You?" Jack opened the letter and showed it to Racetrack. "Its to all of us. She wrote it so dat I could read it out loud to da boys. Are ya ok Race?" Racetrack turned away from Jack and sat down on the stool by one of the boy's beds. "I'll be fine. I jest don't undastand why she would leave, dats all." Jack smiled and sat down next to his friend. "Da fact dat ya like her isn't a factor is it?" Racetrack turned and looked at Jack, surprise written all over his face. "How'd ya know 'bout dat?" Jack grinned and put his arm around his friend's shoulder. "Wouldn't you like ta know? Actually, I jest knew. Da way ya acted an' stuff. I was in love too once upon a time." Racetrack smiled. "Well, ya gonna read dat letta to da boys or not?" Jack returned the smiled and began slapping boy's feet and faces just as Kloppman trudged up the stairs. "Well, this is more like it! I wish you boys would take over more often!" The old man remarked with a satisfactory smile.
After all the boys were awake, Jack told them the news. Some of the boys yelled to Jack to stop fooling, but others remained silent as they read the truth in Jack's eyes. Finally, after they all quieted down, Jack read the letter to the boys and Kloppman. It was similar to Racetrack's letter, only omitting the confession she had enclosed in the latter. As he closed the letter, Jack glanced around the room. Hats were on the floor instead of on heads, hands were folded across their chests. They listened to the news as if hearing a funeral sermon. "Moreova, don't worry 'bout me. I kin take care of myself thanks ta you boys. I'll be back someday. Bright Eyes." Jack closed. "It was a nice letta. I liked it. Always was good at writin' Bright was." Crutchy murmured.
"I jest don't know what I'm gonna do without Bright an' her advise. She always did have good advice. Even if I didn't always follow it." Snipeshooter said, blushing. "Dats it! Don't tink 'bout her leavin'! Tink about da good times all of ya's had wit' her. An' wheneva yer sad, tink 'bout good times." Jack called out as the boys began to share their experiences with Bright Eyes. They did this all day, and the next and the next day. To the boys, the letter was a prophecy. Each boy thought about the girl and the letter, each hoping that someday the promise at the end of it would be fulfilled.
To be continued......................................................................................................................
Bright Eyes reached her selling spot just as the other boys were spreading out and taking their spots. Racetrack came and patted her on the back as she walked up. "Hey how ya doin' Bright? Got lotsa sellin' ta do teday ya know?" Bright Eyes forced a smile and patted the boy's back softly. "Yeah I know dat. How ya doin'? You look like ya've gotta bad taste in yer mout' or sometin'." Racetrack rolled his eyes and stooped closer to Bright Eyes. "Davey's here fer da weekend, an' he wants ta sell wit' ya." Bright Eyes raised her eyebrows mischievously. "Is dat a problem? Race?" Racetrack lit a cigar and shoved it into his mouth attempting to hide the growing red spots on his cheeks. "It ain't a problem. Its jest, he jest gets on my neives. He's so clean an'as he says 'learned' dat I jest hate it when he comes. Acts like he knows more dan us, which he does. But dat doesn't mean dat he's gotta flounce himself around like a goil wit' new clothes does it?"
"Hey Bright Eyes, Racetrack. Lets get sellin'!" David's voice boomed behind the two. Racetrack clutched his ears mockingly and whispered. "An' I also hate da way he tries ta get an' accent!" Bright Eyes grinned and patted him on the back as he walked away. "So Bright! I haven't seen you in a while eh?" Bright Eyes shrugged. "Guess not." David forced a smile. "Well there was a most interesting chapter in history today, that I thought you might be interested in. It was about King Arthur and his nights and a Round Table." With that, David proceeded to tell the classic story, rather badly into Bright Eyes' ears that on the outside were open, but on the inside, were slammed shut. Inside she was thinking of how to get rid of David, so that she could intercept the ticket that would take her away from her home.
Bright Eyes' question was answered not long after she and David arrived in their selling spot. The girl spotted Oscar sauntering up the street a long way off, and her eyes quickly gazed at her surroundings. Two fruit carts being driven by Italian men, were coming right past her and David. Without warning, she dashed between the two of them, causing them to stop abruptly and crash into each other. David stopped and helped the men pick up the fallen fruits as they yelled at him. Bright Eyes reached Oscar out of breath and furious. "Well I'm hea. Where is it?" Oscar smiled. "Well someone's been workin' out today." Bright Eyes smacked the boy's arm, rage filling her pained eyes. "Jest gimme 'em Osca!" "My, my. Temper, temper. Maybe they should've called ya Fire Head. Here you are, your ticket out of here." Bright Eyes snatched the ticket in Oscar's outstretched hand and ran off. Oscar grinned and smiled to himself. "Well that's one pest gone. And good riddance too."
"Bright Eyes! Bright Eyes! Come help me pick up these fruits that you made these men spill! Bright Eyes!" David yelled as he continued to pick up the fruits, all the while being kicked slightly on the rump by the men on both sides. Bright Eyes stomped to David's side and grasped his collar in her hand. "Listen ta me Mista 'Learned'. I ain't gonna fall fer yer high an' mighty airs and yer school lessons. You can just sit yer educated butt on da ground an' pick up those fruits by yerself. I ain't gonna help ya. I'm gonna sell BY MYSELF! Is dat very clear?" David nodded, astonished by her outburst. Bright Eyes smiled semi-sweetly, shouldered her papers and walked off briskly, leaving David with the two fruit vendors. As he watched her stomp off, he suddenly noticed a small piece of paper clutched in her clenched fist.
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Bright Eyes conquered her own obstacle that day. She sold all of the 250 papers that she had bought, earning herself money for the dreaded trip that would take place that night. As she gloomily trudged home, she thought about what was going to happen in the next few hours. She came to the conclusion that she was not going to go through the night as quiet as a mouse and show everyone of her friends her gloomy face. No, she was going to make it the most treasured night of her life. She started by grinning to herself and then whistled an old Irish tune from long ago as she skipped up the stairs of the Lodging House.
"Heya guys! How 'bout some poka? Hey Race, deal da cawds! I'm bettin' tenight!" The boys laughed and spread around the old table in the bedroom, Racetrack shuffling and dealing the cards with a sly grin spread across his face, his "Gambling look" as Bright Eyes called it. Two hours later, all of Bright Eyes' money was gone, but in her last hand, she bet two more dollars. Snipeshooter leaned up to Bright Eyes ear and whispered, "How ya gonna do dat if ya don't have anymore money? I know dat ya don't got anymore!" Bright Eyes smiled cockily and pressed her cards to her chest. " Yeah, but Race don't know dat right? So lets jest say dat I trust me cawds." She winked at the boy as he sat down uncertainly.
Racetrack eased back in his chair with a grin as Bright Eyes made her bet. "Ok Bright. Hows dis? Full House!" Racetrack triumphantly laid his cards on the table with a flourish and lit a cigar. Bright Eyes shook her head in defeat. "Dats good Race, but not dat good." With that she laid down her cards which produced a ripple effect of surprise around the room. "Two pair. Aces." Racetrack's cigar fell out of his mouth in astonishment. Bright Eyes grinned and pulled the pile of money toward her and began to count it. "5 dolla's an' 50 cents. Nice playin' Race." Racetrack groaned and clutched his hat as Kid Blink patted his back comfortingly. The clock in the hall struck ten and the boys stood up and stretched.
"Wait a sec boys! I wants ta sing ya a song dat I heaid a long, long time ago." Snipeshooter moaned. "Is it one of dem sappy Irish love songs? 'Cause if it has anytin' ta do wit' love, I swear I'll kill myself!" Some of the boys agreed in unison, but Racetrack and Jack both told the complainers to 'shut up and listen.' Bright Eyes seated herself in a chair as the boys gathered around her to listen.
Help me my friends help me,
I've got to go away.
From the homeland I love,
To a land far away,
Beyond the County Cork's shore.
Help me my friends, help me,
Give me a token to remember you by.
And don't ever forget me,
Though I never come back.
How I shall miss,
This homeland of mine.
Oh how shall I miss,
My beloved friends and family.
But what must be done,
Must be done,
And so my friends,
Remember me.
I'm goin' away for a while my friends,
But I'll be back someday.
Never fear, though hell should bar the way,
I'll be back someday.
As Bright Eyes ended the haunting melody, the boys were silent. Jack stared at his shoes and Racetrack looked at Bright Eyes for a moment, but when she turned to meet his gaze, he turned away. The rest of the boys sat quietly, till Crutchy remarked, "Well I'll be. Dats one of da prettiest hymns I've eva heaid ya sing Brighty. Where did ya hear it?" Bright Eyes smiled. "I heaid it when I was a little goil. Me momma sung it to me. Don't remember her, but da song jest stuck wit me all dese years." As she gazed at all the gloomy faces, she laughed. "Well I do believe dat I've spoiled da mood. Let me tell ya a story about the princess Danae."
And she proceeded to captivate her listeners and brought them to the land of Ireland, far away from New York. For but a few moments, the boy's thoughts were not on papers, or hunger, or how they would live the next day. They were captivated with the story, it coming from an experienced tongue. They saw the bright green hills, and heard the elvin call echo through the lush green forests. They saw the beautiful Princess Danae, her waist length red hair flying recklessly in the ocean wind. They were astonished that such things could even be told by a human tongue, to them, it was like a sort of heaven, and when it ended, there were protests all round. "Tell us more Brighty! More! More!" Came the resounding shouts, to which the smiling girl had to comply. At 10:30 though, the story telling came to an end and the bunk beds were filled with boys.
Bright Eyes made rounds that night, saying goodnight to her comrades who all thanked her heartily for the stories. After she said goodnight to Racetrack, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. "Brighty, dose were da most beautiful tings' I've eva heaid. How come ya didn't tell us more of dose till now? Dey was wondaful. All da fairies an' elves an' leprechauns. An' dat story where da elf princess fell in love wit' da leprechaun, I loved dat."
Bright Eyes shrugged. "I don't know why I didn't tell them till now. I just assumed that you boys wouldn't want to hear them. But I'm glad that you liked them." Racetrack smiled his crooked smile that Bright Eyes had so often taken for granted, and she impressed it into her memory so that it would never be forgotten. "Bright? I gotta tell ya sometin'." Bright Eyes held her head up and listened. "Bright, I, well dat is. I tink dat, I love ya." Bright Eyes started. "Don't be mad Bright. I cain't help da way I feels. But I thought dat you should know. And I was wondrin' if ya felt da same way 'bout me?"
Bright Eyes gazed into the boy's eager brown eyes, tears filling her own as she spoke. "Yes. I do love you." Racetrack's grin spread from ear to ear and he grasped her hand and wiped away the tears now falling freely from the girl's eyes. "Hey now, dis ain't supposed ta make ya cry now. Yer supposed ta be happy" Bright Eyes smiled and wiped the tears off her nose. "I know. I am happy. Very, very happy. I gotta go Race." Racetrack gripped her hand for a moment longer then released it as Bright Eyes padded to her room and closed the door softly. He laid his head back on the pillow and breathed a sigh of relief that she felt the same way he did.
When she reached her room, Bright Eye collapsed on the bed, letting the tears drip silently down her cheeks. Then she sat down on her bed, grabbed a pencil and papers, and began to painstakingly write on them. She wrote until 11:05, when she sealed two papers and laid them gently on her bed. Then she began to pack only what was necessary and the things she loved best in her bag. When she finished, she blew out the lamp and stepped out of her door. She set her bag on the stairwell and crept over to the bed that held the snoring Jack Kelly. She lifted up his sweaty hand, kissed it and laid a letter under it. The other letter she placed on the nightstand by Racetrack's bed. She knelt down and gazed at the sleeping boy. Tears dropped from her eyes as she kissed his cheek tenderly and slipped on her plain silver ring of her mother's onto his finger. "Goodbye Racetrack. Don't forget me." She whispered softly.
Then she crept away and stood on the stairway for a moment and blew a kiss to the boys in the room. Then with a deep breath as a soldier going into battle, she shouldered her bag and tiptoed down the stairs and out the door. Down the familiar streets she scuttled, fitting in totally with the street's darkness. She knew that she was taking a dreadful risk of someone seeing her. The dock was in Brooklyn and Spot Conlon was a night owl. She was only a few blocks away when something scared her out of her wits. "Bright? Bright Eyes, dat you?" A male voice called out. At the sound of it, she ran, not caring if it was Spot, or anyone else, just so long as they didn't catch her and ask her where she was going and why.
Red stood in the street, totally confused. He was sure that the girl huddling past him was Bright Eyes, but when he called out, she ran like a cat from a dog. He didn't like that. It wasn't like his comrade to be that skittish. She would've at least acknowledged his presence, but she did not do that at all. "Gotta tell Spot. Maybe he'll know what ta do." The boy murmured as he ran towards Slingshot Way.
Spot Conlon shot another bottle clean through with his marble. He smiled to himself. He loved to win and loved his triumphs, which were many in his mind. But even a hero needs a break, and he felt that he would get one as his friend Red ran up, panting. "Whats da matta wit' ya? Ya bein' chased by somebody? Show me 'em an' I'll knock dere lights out!" Spot was feeling very heroic on this night. "Maybe da full moon's confusin' ya Spot. But I ain't bein' chased. I jest saw Bright Eyes run by here in an awful hurry." Spot Conlon missed his target as the boy spoke. He turned to face Red suspiciously. "Whaddya mean, runnin'?" Red shrugged. "Jest what I mean. I called her name an' she ran fasta dan she was already. She was headin' towards da dock." Spot glanced at the moon and nodded. "Yeah, from da looks of da moon its almost midnight. Dats too late fer even Bright ta be out. Gatha up a few of da boys an' form a scout team. We're gonna check dis out." Red nodded and in an instant fetched Knuckles, Tails, Kicks, Lonny, and Marbles.
The seven boys headed toward the dock, as silent as a lion sneaking up on his prey. Suddenly Lonny called out to Spot, "Spot, she's goin' to a ship!" Spot panicked. "Stay here ya boys! Let me go ahead!" And he ran up the steep rocks near the pier, sometimes falling and scraping his knees before he reached the top. When he reached it, out of breath and panting, he sat down hard at what he saw. What he saw was Bright Eyes turning in a ticket to the ticket master, shouldering her bag and stepping on the gangplank. She stopped before she reached the main deck and turned, surveying her surroundings for a minute, then walking onto the deck and holding onto the railing as the boat pushed off. "No. No, dis cain't be happenin'. No Bright." Spot whispered, tears choking his words as he watched his friend on the ship. Then suddenly on the wind came a familiar voice yelling, "Goodbye New Yawk!" Spot fiercely wiped the tears edging his gray blue eyes as the memories of his friend surged back in small wisps.
"Boy, I was wondering if you could recommend a place to stay?"
"Nope, don't know a place dat would take little goils."
"Is dat hard ta do? Ta sell papers?"
"Not in da least. Ya jest improve da headline a little!"
"'Scuse me hic? I seems ta be lost hic! Can ya point me to da direction of da bar hic? Or maybe me 'ome would be betta. No da bar!"
"Spot don't be silly! Ya ain't drunk!"
"I kin pretend if I wanna Brighty!"
"I gotta help 'em Spot!"
"Listen Bright. I ain't eva seen ya go into hysterics! Don't start now!"
"Ya okay Spot?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Jest beat up. What 'bout you?"
"I'm alright. I miss my momma though."
"Listen Bright, I'll always be da family ya need. I'll always be here."
"Danks Spot."
"No problem."
"Bright Eyes, what have ya done?" Spot whispered. "Can we do anythin' Spot?" Red's voice echoed up the rocks. "No. Nothin' kin be done." Spot choked. Red took off his hat and the others did the same as they waited for Spot. Spot sat on the rocks and waited till the ship was out of his sight. Then he stood and the Brooklyn leader straightened and walked bravely down the rocks to his friends below. "From now on, wheneva anyone askes 'bout a goil named Bright Eyes, tell 'em dat she's not here, she's jest a story. She don't exist." Spot slowly walked back to the Lodging House, leaving the boys to watch the water for a time and then follow his footsteps.
@--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------@
The next morning found Racetrack awake at rousing time without Kloppman's help. When he sat up dozily, he felt on his nightside table for his cup of water and instead felt paper. He looked down and saw a whole cuban cigar sitting on top of a few pieces of paper. On his hand, was a somewhat familiar silver ring. He stuck the cigar in his mouth and opened the papers, his eyes going wide as he read.
Dear Racetrack,
I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, but if I do not do it now, you and the boys would be in serious trouble. I want you to know that I did say goodbye to you, you were just asleep and therefore could not protest my decision. I also want you to know that this is not your fault, or any of the others' faults. I am doing this of my own decision. The pain in my heart is worse than any physical pain that I have felt because of my having to leave you boys. Enclosed in these papers are the stories I told last night. Now you can have them forever and ever. I do love you very much. I will be back someday.
Love,
Bright Eyes
Racetrack's heart jumped to his throat as he read the letter. He flipped through the pages and made out the fairy stories that were painstakingly written down for her boy's sakes. Racetrack threw the papers on his bed and ran to Bright Eyes' room and opened the door. The bed was unslept in and the room was spotless. Racetrack slumped against the door and at the same time felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Jack standing behind him, his hand holding a piece of paper. "You got one too?" Jack nodded and sighed. "Dere was sometin' wrong wit' her Race. You an' I both knew dat. We gotta respect her decision though, no matta how much we hate it."
Racetrack nodded and turned away from the room and gently closed the door. "Who's dat letta to? You?" Jack opened the letter and showed it to Racetrack. "Its to all of us. She wrote it so dat I could read it out loud to da boys. Are ya ok Race?" Racetrack turned away from Jack and sat down on the stool by one of the boy's beds. "I'll be fine. I jest don't undastand why she would leave, dats all." Jack smiled and sat down next to his friend. "Da fact dat ya like her isn't a factor is it?" Racetrack turned and looked at Jack, surprise written all over his face. "How'd ya know 'bout dat?" Jack grinned and put his arm around his friend's shoulder. "Wouldn't you like ta know? Actually, I jest knew. Da way ya acted an' stuff. I was in love too once upon a time." Racetrack smiled. "Well, ya gonna read dat letta to da boys or not?" Jack returned the smiled and began slapping boy's feet and faces just as Kloppman trudged up the stairs. "Well, this is more like it! I wish you boys would take over more often!" The old man remarked with a satisfactory smile.
After all the boys were awake, Jack told them the news. Some of the boys yelled to Jack to stop fooling, but others remained silent as they read the truth in Jack's eyes. Finally, after they all quieted down, Jack read the letter to the boys and Kloppman. It was similar to Racetrack's letter, only omitting the confession she had enclosed in the latter. As he closed the letter, Jack glanced around the room. Hats were on the floor instead of on heads, hands were folded across their chests. They listened to the news as if hearing a funeral sermon. "Moreova, don't worry 'bout me. I kin take care of myself thanks ta you boys. I'll be back someday. Bright Eyes." Jack closed. "It was a nice letta. I liked it. Always was good at writin' Bright was." Crutchy murmured.
"I jest don't know what I'm gonna do without Bright an' her advise. She always did have good advice. Even if I didn't always follow it." Snipeshooter said, blushing. "Dats it! Don't tink 'bout her leavin'! Tink about da good times all of ya's had wit' her. An' wheneva yer sad, tink 'bout good times." Jack called out as the boys began to share their experiences with Bright Eyes. They did this all day, and the next and the next day. To the boys, the letter was a prophecy. Each boy thought about the girl and the letter, each hoping that someday the promise at the end of it would be fulfilled.
To be continued......................................................................................................................
