NOTE: apologies to everyone who was disturbed or unsettled by the use of alcohol and weed in the last chapter. i'll try to behave from here on in.
groggy from all that alcohol, david tried to lift his heade from the pillow. it was very noisy around him and he wondered why. he could hear shouting, singing, morning rituals from every direction as a sharp searing pain drilled his left temple. he anted nothing more than to go back to sleep; his whole body felt so heavy, it seemed impossible to get up. he groaned, and oushed his face deeper into the pillow, wishing the whole world would go away and leave him alone. selling papers was the last thing he wanted to wake up for. the noises continued, and got louder, closer as sleep slowly slipped away. who's making all that noise? he thought. he forced his eyes open and woke up to unfamiliar surroundings.
he felt a weight and a presence get on the mattress, just over him. the presence samcked his rear, yelling," get up, davy! rise and shine!time tah wake up! carryin' dah bannah!"
an alarm clock went off inside david, and he immediately sat up, shocked. whe-OWWWWWWWW!his head felt like it was being smashed like a rock."what..." he began, as kid blink's face came into focus in front of him."blink!" he croaked. "what happened? where am I?" then, remebering, "oh no! i gotta get home!" he tried to stand up, but all he achieved was falling out of bed clumsily. he scrambled to get his shoes on. my parents will kill me, he thought miserably. he imagined the worst case scenario- his father had died of worry, his mother would disown him...he seriously had to get home!now if only he can find his other shoe...! "i gotta get home!" he yelped helplessly.
"anybody seen davy's udda shoe?" kid blink hollered amid the noise. everyone ignored him, so kid blink got on the floor with david to help him look.
they found it two beds away and hurriedly, david put them on."i gotta go!" he yelped one last time before flying down the stairs.
"young man, where have you been? we were up all night waiting for you!" david's mother cried when he got home. she looked as if she wanted to get mad, but was too relieved to see her son unharmed. david was instanly filled with guilt.this was all his fault. his father, who was at the table, said nothing, but was looking at david in aquiet, thoughtful way, as if deciding what course of action to take."my god!where did you sleep? what happened are you all right?"
"fine, momma," david said. his mother was hysterical, as he had expected her to be. but it was his father who david worried about.it was just a matter of time until the volcano blew up.
finally meyer jacobs stood up. "the boy's fine, esther," he siad. "i'm sure david here can explain what happened."
david gulped." i'm sorry," he said automatically. "this is my fault. i said i would be home by ten." his father's expression softened a notch. "i slept at the newsies lodging house," he said, opting for the truth...well,part of it anyway. the alcohol would take a lot of explaining, and would probably be best left unmentioned.
his father looked at him as if deciding whether to take his son's word for it or not. then, deciding in david's favor, sighed, and said, "next time, son, please let us know where you are. your mother and i were very worried."
David was weak with relief. He knew that he was getting off easy. "I'm sorry, poppa," he said again.
"now, go on, sell the papers," he said, dismissing the subject for now.
"yes, sir."
This is the last time I'm ever drinking! David vowed to himself, ignoring the pounding in his head. I am never touching alcohol again for as long as I live!
Selling had been hell that morning because of his hangover. David was angry at himself for losing it the way he did. He knew better than to blame anybody than himself, which made it worse. He only bought thirty papes, because he didn't think he could push a hundred that day. I'm a disgrace! He thought, kicking himdelf. He ambled on, with his last pape in hand.
A woman coming out of a store called him over. David walked up to her, still scolding himself for his reckless behavior. He handed her the pape.
"how much?" the woman asked, smiling at him.
David didn't bother looking up. "penny a pape, miss," he said glumly.
"here ya go," the woman said, handing him the coins. "why so glum, chum?"
when david looked up, he wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up. "miss Cynthia!"
Cynthia smiled at david. "yeah! Thought that was you!" she peered into his face. David noted she had a habit of doing that, like she was trying to read the thoughts behind his eyes." You okay, hun?"
David was flabbergasted. She'd actually remembered him! "I'm good."
"yeah, well, seems to me, you got a splitting hangover!" Cynthia said, like she saw this kind of thing everyday. "come on, I'll buy you a coffee. It'll make you feel brand new in no time."
As they had coffee, david found himself relating all of the previous night's events to Cynthia, who listened with great interest, never battling an eyelash or appearing shocked even when david mentioned the whisky or the grass. She'd simply laughed, purely amused at david's story.
"you get in trouble at home?" she asked.
"that was the weirdest thing of all," david said. "of course my mom was a bit mad, but my dad…" he shook his head. " I don't understand why he was so calm about it."
"you know what I think?" Cynthia said. "he knows."
David stared back at her. "what do you mean he knows?"
"how old are you? Fourteen? Fifteen?"
"fifteen."
Cynthia waved her hand, as if to say, "see?". "my dad was the same way with me and my brothers," she said. " I was the baby for a long time, so I got it harder." She paused to take a sip of her coffee. " my dad was a good man, not too strict, but lenient within reason. At some point it seemed he realized his kids…well, they stopped being kids." She paused. "you get what i'm saying?"
David nodded. Cynthia went on, " one time, I was about your age, in fact, my older brother Charlie, dared me I wouldn't drink some gin, so I did!" she laughed her tinkly laugh. " Charlie got in so much trouble. But then soon after that, my dad took out a bottle of brandy, set it on the table," and here she gestured, as if setting down a bottle in front of her. " and went, ' there's a right way and a wrong way to drink! I'll not have any drunks in dis house, so ya might as well learn the right way!' " she laughed again, remembering it fondly." I miss my dad." Then, brushing away the feelings, she said," that's what I'm saying, maybe your dad knows."
"you think?" david wasn't sure about that, but he had been caught up with cynthia's storytelling. Her background seemed so interesting and so…unusual. " I just feel bad about it that's all. I've never done anything like that before. one thing's for sure, though I'm never going near alcohol again!"
to which miss Cynthia said, "I've said the same thing myself a thousand times before!" she smiled, as her eyes danced mischievously, like fireflies on a summer day.
groggy from all that alcohol, david tried to lift his heade from the pillow. it was very noisy around him and he wondered why. he could hear shouting, singing, morning rituals from every direction as a sharp searing pain drilled his left temple. he anted nothing more than to go back to sleep; his whole body felt so heavy, it seemed impossible to get up. he groaned, and oushed his face deeper into the pillow, wishing the whole world would go away and leave him alone. selling papers was the last thing he wanted to wake up for. the noises continued, and got louder, closer as sleep slowly slipped away. who's making all that noise? he thought. he forced his eyes open and woke up to unfamiliar surroundings.
he felt a weight and a presence get on the mattress, just over him. the presence samcked his rear, yelling," get up, davy! rise and shine!time tah wake up! carryin' dah bannah!"
an alarm clock went off inside david, and he immediately sat up, shocked. whe-OWWWWWWWW!his head felt like it was being smashed like a rock."what..." he began, as kid blink's face came into focus in front of him."blink!" he croaked. "what happened? where am I?" then, remebering, "oh no! i gotta get home!" he tried to stand up, but all he achieved was falling out of bed clumsily. he scrambled to get his shoes on. my parents will kill me, he thought miserably. he imagined the worst case scenario- his father had died of worry, his mother would disown him...he seriously had to get home!now if only he can find his other shoe...! "i gotta get home!" he yelped helplessly.
"anybody seen davy's udda shoe?" kid blink hollered amid the noise. everyone ignored him, so kid blink got on the floor with david to help him look.
they found it two beds away and hurriedly, david put them on."i gotta go!" he yelped one last time before flying down the stairs.
"young man, where have you been? we were up all night waiting for you!" david's mother cried when he got home. she looked as if she wanted to get mad, but was too relieved to see her son unharmed. david was instanly filled with guilt.this was all his fault. his father, who was at the table, said nothing, but was looking at david in aquiet, thoughtful way, as if deciding what course of action to take."my god!where did you sleep? what happened are you all right?"
"fine, momma," david said. his mother was hysterical, as he had expected her to be. but it was his father who david worried about.it was just a matter of time until the volcano blew up.
finally meyer jacobs stood up. "the boy's fine, esther," he siad. "i'm sure david here can explain what happened."
david gulped." i'm sorry," he said automatically. "this is my fault. i said i would be home by ten." his father's expression softened a notch. "i slept at the newsies lodging house," he said, opting for the truth...well,part of it anyway. the alcohol would take a lot of explaining, and would probably be best left unmentioned.
his father looked at him as if deciding whether to take his son's word for it or not. then, deciding in david's favor, sighed, and said, "next time, son, please let us know where you are. your mother and i were very worried."
David was weak with relief. He knew that he was getting off easy. "I'm sorry, poppa," he said again.
"now, go on, sell the papers," he said, dismissing the subject for now.
"yes, sir."
This is the last time I'm ever drinking! David vowed to himself, ignoring the pounding in his head. I am never touching alcohol again for as long as I live!
Selling had been hell that morning because of his hangover. David was angry at himself for losing it the way he did. He knew better than to blame anybody than himself, which made it worse. He only bought thirty papes, because he didn't think he could push a hundred that day. I'm a disgrace! He thought, kicking himdelf. He ambled on, with his last pape in hand.
A woman coming out of a store called him over. David walked up to her, still scolding himself for his reckless behavior. He handed her the pape.
"how much?" the woman asked, smiling at him.
David didn't bother looking up. "penny a pape, miss," he said glumly.
"here ya go," the woman said, handing him the coins. "why so glum, chum?"
when david looked up, he wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up. "miss Cynthia!"
Cynthia smiled at david. "yeah! Thought that was you!" she peered into his face. David noted she had a habit of doing that, like she was trying to read the thoughts behind his eyes." You okay, hun?"
David was flabbergasted. She'd actually remembered him! "I'm good."
"yeah, well, seems to me, you got a splitting hangover!" Cynthia said, like she saw this kind of thing everyday. "come on, I'll buy you a coffee. It'll make you feel brand new in no time."
As they had coffee, david found himself relating all of the previous night's events to Cynthia, who listened with great interest, never battling an eyelash or appearing shocked even when david mentioned the whisky or the grass. She'd simply laughed, purely amused at david's story.
"you get in trouble at home?" she asked.
"that was the weirdest thing of all," david said. "of course my mom was a bit mad, but my dad…" he shook his head. " I don't understand why he was so calm about it."
"you know what I think?" Cynthia said. "he knows."
David stared back at her. "what do you mean he knows?"
"how old are you? Fourteen? Fifteen?"
"fifteen."
Cynthia waved her hand, as if to say, "see?". "my dad was the same way with me and my brothers," she said. " I was the baby for a long time, so I got it harder." She paused to take a sip of her coffee. " my dad was a good man, not too strict, but lenient within reason. At some point it seemed he realized his kids…well, they stopped being kids." She paused. "you get what i'm saying?"
David nodded. Cynthia went on, " one time, I was about your age, in fact, my older brother Charlie, dared me I wouldn't drink some gin, so I did!" she laughed her tinkly laugh. " Charlie got in so much trouble. But then soon after that, my dad took out a bottle of brandy, set it on the table," and here she gestured, as if setting down a bottle in front of her. " and went, ' there's a right way and a wrong way to drink! I'll not have any drunks in dis house, so ya might as well learn the right way!' " she laughed again, remembering it fondly." I miss my dad." Then, brushing away the feelings, she said," that's what I'm saying, maybe your dad knows."
"you think?" david wasn't sure about that, but he had been caught up with cynthia's storytelling. Her background seemed so interesting and so…unusual. " I just feel bad about it that's all. I've never done anything like that before. one thing's for sure, though I'm never going near alcohol again!"
to which miss Cynthia said, "I've said the same thing myself a thousand times before!" she smiled, as her eyes danced mischievously, like fireflies on a summer day.
