I was reading through this and thought that it kind of gets a little after-school special-ish at certain places. Just a warning in advance. Or maybe I'm just being really critical, I don't know.
Chapter 8
Clover never moved from the place Skittery had left her, not caring if anyone wondered why she was standing on a street corner. She saw Skittery go up to Emilia, talk with her, and watched Emilia walk away. From the look on Emilia's face as she parted from Skittery, Clover knew something was terribly wrong. Clover left the curb and pushed her way through the crowd to Emilia. "Excuse me, Miss?" she called. Emilia turned,
"May I help you?"
"My name is Clover. I'm a friend of Skittery's, and…" Emilia's face flooded with sadness again.
"Yes, Skittery. I think he is in great need of a friend right now." Clover did not need to be told any more. She shoved through the streets, only to find that Skittery was gone. She glanced around frantically, but there was no sign of him. Clover headed swiftly to the Lodging House, but when she arrived Kloppman informed her that Skittery had not been there since that morning. Clover went back out into the streets, furiously combing her brain for a clue as to where Skittery might be.
'Think, Clover, think! What do you know about him that might help you find him? His parents and sister died when a train derailed. He never mentioned why he wasn't on the train with them. He must have been visiting someone or something. Visiting--that's it! He's probably visiting his family at the graveyard they're buried in! But which graveyard? There's too many in the city for me to have a chance of finding him.' Clover decided that she had to try.
She sped to the nearest graveyard--no Skittery. A few more graveyards and still nothing. Eventually, Clover came to a graveyard that brought back unwanted memories. 'He couldn't be here, could he?' But there he was. Standing in from of two medium-sized gravestones and one little one. Clover knew he heard her come up beside him, but he didn't budge an inch. "Go away," he spat out.
"Skittery--"
"I said go away!" this time Skittery whirled around to face her, anger flaming in his eyes. "If ya hadn't said anyt'in, she might have been--"
"She might have been what, Skittery?" Clover's tone was not mocking, it was gentle. "She might have been your sister if I hadn't told you that she probably wasn't?" Instead of answering, Skittery turned back around and resumed staring at his family's graves. Clover waited for him to say something, but nothing came. So she decided to initiate a dialogue herself. "Why do you always shut everyone out, especially me?"
"Ya couldn't undastand." Skittery knew what he was saying wasn't true, but that was what had come out of his mouth. Not that it mattered, anyway, if it got her to leave him alone.
"Couldn't I?" Clover felt something she hadn't felt in a long time--genuine anger. Not a lot, just a twinge, but it was still enough to come through in her voice. This boy was beginning to frustrate her. His dreary look on the world and refusal to let anyone know or help him was only going to hurt himself and others in the end. Clover walked a few rows over and down a bit from Skittery until she stood in front of two particular gravestones. Taking a shaky breath, she read,
"Shamus McConnell. Born: November 16, 1849. Died: April 2, 1890. Mary McConnell. Born: February 27, 1850. Died: April 8, 1890. My real name is Bridgid. Bridgid McConnell. I don't think I need to tell you who these people are." Skittery's only reply was a quiet, although sincere,
"Ise sorry." Clover knew that she was going to have to say more if she wanted to get Skittery to open up. Telling him about her parents didn't bother her too much, especially if it would help Skittery take the first step towards healing.
"My father was killed in a drunken brawl. He wasn't even doing anything, he just happened to be passing by the bar on his way back from the factory, and was in the wrong place at the wrong time. When we got the news…my mother broke down. She killed herself a week later. That's what hurt the most, even more than my father's death. It was like he was the only thing that mattered to her in life. Like I wasn't important enough to live for." Clover swallowed hard. She hesitated, but forced herself to continue.
"Of course, Papa's death wasn't the only thing…with all the stress that his death caused Mama…she had a miscarriage a few days later. You're the only person in the world besides me who knows about that. I've told other people, Hazel and Ebony including, about my parents, but never anyone about the baby, my little brother or sister, until now." Clover saw Skittery's head droop lower.
"T'en why d'ya bot'ah ta continue? Ta be all happy, bright, cheery?" Clover moved to stand beside Skittery,
"Because staying depressed isn't going to help anyone or anything. Sure, a lot of the world is an awful place, but it's only going to stay that way or get worse if no one decides to make a difference."
"Like I could evah make a difference," mumbled Skittery.
"That's what you don't understand. Sometimes, all it takes is a bright smile and a friendly attitude, and someone's life could be changed in a great way."
'Like mine,' Skittery found himself thinking. His cynical side soon pushed that thought back, "what does it mattah, I could nevah be t'at way. Ise too much t'e opposite. It'd be too hard."
"No it wouldn't." Clover laid a hand on Skittery's shoulder. "The hardest part is starting, and it progresses naturally from there." Skittery didn't say anything for a long time. Clover's spirits started sinking. Would Skittery ever even try to change? Suddenly, a voice--Skittery's voice--penetrated the silence.
"I was sick t'e day when my parents went ta visit my grandparents. T'ey took Ashley, my lit'le two-yeah-old sistah, with t'em. I stayed with a friend of t'e family. When I got t'e news of t'e accident…I was supposed ta go live with my grandparents, but I didn't want ta. It would mean t'at I'd have ta go on a train, and I was too scared. I also connected my grandparents with my parents' death. Unfaih, I know, but I was only four. I ran away, but someone found me a week oah two latah and put me in t'e orphanage. I met Blink and Dutchy t'ere, and we escaped and became newsies. I found out soon latah t'at my grandparents died, of old age. I also knew wheah my family was buried, but I nevah came ta visit, till now. T'ey told me t'at t'ey found t'e bodies, but I guess I always held on ta t'e hope t'at maybe t'ey didn't, and if I didn't see t'e gravestones t'en t'at meant t'at at least one of 'em was still alive. But with what happened taday…" Clover reached down and squeezed Skittery's hand, who surprisingly didn't try to push her away, physically or emotionally.
"I'll always be here if you need someone. Do you feel better, now that you've told someone?" Skittery nodded, he did feel better--lighter in a way.
"T'at all I gotta do?"
"No. But it will be easier from here, I promise. You still willing to give healing a shot?"
"I'll try."