Another note: I just want to say, that despite her many similarities to the dreaded Mary Sue, Lucy is NOT a Mary Sue. I am not Lucy. I do not want to be Lucy. Lucy sometimes wishes she were me, but this is MY story about Lucy. If she wants to write one about me, that's her prerogative. Of course, that would make ME Mary Sue...
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters (except Lucy), though sometimes I lie awake at night and dream that I did. Disney owns them, and I do hope that they are taking good care of my darling boys.
Sheesh, why don't you give us the story already??
Okay then, here it is.....
Chapter One: Uptown Girl
It was a hot day. Damned hot. Far too hot to be roaming the streets hawking papers to a sweaty, irritable New York City. Kid Blink was so exhausted from the effort of calling out headlines that he couldn't even invent any clever ones of his own. It was nearly 4 o'clock and he had only a few papes left, but he had barely made a profit for the last three days and he needed to sell everything he had today so that he'd be able to afford dinner.
He decided to follow a light breeze that had started to blow just when he thought that he wouldn't be able to take a step further. It led him out of the sketchier part of town and into a quiet, swank residential neighborhood with tree-lined streets and fancy carriages in front of many of the mansions. Blink rarely ventured into neighborhoods like these, as there weren't usually many people out and he preferred to stick to the noisier, more crowded streets. But the breeze cooling his soaking wet brow felt so good that he continued on down the street, wiping perspiration from his forehead and fanning his face with his newspapers. Soon he began to daydream about what it would be like to live in one of these houses. With a motorized ceiling fan in each room, a steaming hot bath awaiting him each morning, servants who bowed politely when he entered the room and brought him whatever he wanted, electricity... Kid was so caught up with his fantasy that he nearly stumbled over his own feet when voice came out of no where and jerked him back in reality.
"Are you selling those papers or just using them to fan yourself?" half-joked a soft feminine voice. Blink spun around in his tracks and saw, to his surprise, a girl about his age, carrying a parasol and wearing a blue dress that looked like it must have cost more money than every boy in the Lodge had ever held put together. Blink goggled at her, unable to speak until she had repeated the question.
"Oh, I'm, uh, sellin' 'em," he said stupidly, feeling as though he could kick himself for saying something so obvious and inept.
"Well then, I'd like to buy one," the girl replied, and she produced from her coin purse a shining new nickel. "I'm rather hot myself and I could use something to cool myself down with."
Kid Blink handed her the paper wordlessly and took the nickel. But before he could begin to search through his pocket for four pennies for change, the girl said, "Don't worry about the change, I'd probably just lose the pennies anyway. Good afternoon, then!" she called as a man with a slickly waxed moustache Kid hadn't noticed put his arm firmly around the girl's waist and, shooting the newsie a stern glare, led her up some stairs away from a carriage that Kid supposed had just appeared out of thin air (he hadn't noticed it either) and into grand white mansion with a bright blue door.
For a moment Kid stood rooted to the sidewalk, holding the nickel in his hands. He couldn't believe he had behaved so stupidly in front of a rich girl like that. He had been so startled that he barely even remembered from the girl had looked like! Reddish hair, fair skin, he tried to reconstruct her face in his mind, but soon he was distracted by the glint of the shining coin that still lay in his outstretched hand. She had paid him five times the amount of the paper! It looked like he'd be having a fine dinner that night, assuming he could get rid of his last couple of papers. Forgetting the heat and his exhaustion, Kid Blink leaped in the air with a hoot of joy and made his way back to the heart of Manhattan, his heart considerably lighter than it had been five minutes earlier.
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Lucy Morningside sat thoughtfully on a doily covered sofa in the richly furnished drawing room of her family's uptown home, slowly sipping a frosty glass of lemonade and flipping distractedly through the newspaper she had just purchased. She let a soft chuckle escape her lips as she tossed the paper she had just bought onto the pile of newspapers she had accumulated throughout the day--New York Sun, The World, The Times, she hardly even knew which papers she had bought. Lucy never could pass by a newsboy, or any other poor child for that matter, without buying something for them or giving them at least a few pennies to get through the day. Her father had long since stopped trying to convince her that her sentimenality would get her into trouble and that "spoiling the newsies that way would only make them lazy," because Lucy paid no attention. Besides, Lucy thought naughtily, the newsie outside her house had been awfully cute, even if he was wearing an eyepatch.
"MISS LUCY!" called a voice suddenly from the hall, and Lucy groaned and rolled over face first onto the sofa.
"In here," came back her muffled voice. A moment later, a portly woman carrying a tea tray bustled into the drawing room wearing a look of weariness and frustration on her kindly but stern face. Upon seeing Lucy sprawled on the couch next to a tower of newspapers, the woman let out a long-practiced sigh.
"Lucy Morningside," she said, "when are you ever going to tire of flirting with those newspaper boys? It's terribly bad taste for a lady of your upbringing."
"Oh Cordelia!" muttered Lucy into the cushion. "What are you talking about, flirting? I just hate to see all those poor boys trying to earn enough money to eat! And especially in this heat. I can't imagine that they get enough to drink," she added softly, looking guiltily at the pitcher of lemonade.
"I'm sure they visit enough taverns to drink enough for all New York," Cordelia
muttered under her breath. "But honestly, Lucy," said the middle-aged housekeeper, "you must have bought..." she flipped through the newspapers, "nearly fifteen today!"
"I ran into a lot of newsies today," Lucy shrugged. "Papa got annoyed, of course, but he was distracted and didn't say anything. The election has him pretty preoccupied."
Cordelia snorted. "You think I don't know that? If it isn't one thing it's another! Planning dinner parties, cleaning guest rooms..."
Lucy sat up so suddenly that she nearly knocked over the lemonade. "Dinner parties?" she whispered. "Cordelia is there a dinner party tonight?"
The housekeeper gave Lucy a stern look. "Of course there is! You've known about it for weeks! Don't tell me you've forgotten that your father is entertaining the mayor of New York City tonight along with Councilmen Rogers, Thompson, Sullivan..."
"I completely forgot!" cried Lucy. "And I told Robert Horner that I go for a carriage ride in the park with him this evening!"
Cordelia clucked her tongue disapprovingly as she began pile dishes and teacups onto her tray. "Does your father know of your late night rendezvous' with your male friends?"
Now it was Lucy's turn to snort. "Like he would care even if he weren't too busy to notice! Besides, Robbie Horner is a perfectly respectable, gentlemanly..."
"...bore!" finished Cordelia huffily. Lucy giggled.
"Well yes," she agreed lightly, "but he does like me so much, and he's perfectly amiable. It's not like I'm going to marry him."
"Well, I should certainly hope not!" Cordelia cried, straightening the cushions on the the other sofa. "The boy has about as much as excitement as a jar of sauerkraut! And his parents!" Lucy giggled again and the housekeeper shuddered.
"I should at least tell Robbie that I can't meet him this evening," she said thoughtfully. "Do you think Father would let me take out the carriage?"
"I think he's already sent out Mrs. Collins to get the fish for tonight's dinner."
"Ugh, fish," Lucy groaned. "Well it's cooling down a bit, I can walk."
"Are you quite certain?" Cordelia asked, her voice suddenly filled with concern. "We could telephone the Horners, or I could send Alfred or one of the stable boys to go to the boy's house..."
"I'll be quite all right! At least I'll be able to walk through the park a little this evening," said Lucy firmly, placing her bonnet on her head and reaching for her parasol.
"Well, all right," said Cordelia uncertainly, and with a kiss on the cheek Lucy returned to the sultry heat of the New York City summer afternoon.