Lucy hadn't been lying when she told Kid that the dinner party would be boring--it was just that. Dull beyond comprehension. The mayor of New York City had to be the most pompous, mind-numbingly dull windbag Lucy had ever been forced to listen to talk about the joys of cricket. Lucy almost wished she had gone on her walk with Robbie Horner, who at least had the sense to talk about relatively interesting topics. The councilmembers were all ancient, crusty old men with wives who down their noses at the Morningside's plain white china and weatherbeaten place mats as if something particularly foul smelling had just entered the room. Mr. Morningside cared little for material objects such as these, and Lucy knew that though her house was very fine and well-furnished, it didn't compare with those of their guests.
As she sat glued to her seat, forced to listen to an argument between Councilmembers Roberts and Sullivan about the best type of bait for trout fishing, Lucy couldn't help her mind wandering to the boy she had met in the park--Kid Blink. The name floated around in her head, interrupting all her thoughts. What is his real name? she wondered. What does his face look like underneath his eyepatch? Is he really missing an eye, or is the patch just for show? Why does he work as a newsie? Does he have parents? Is he really as "trustwoithy" as he claims to be?
Most unsettling to Lucy, however, was the single overwhelming question that pounded in her ears even above the rest. Why was she still, three hours later, thinking about Kid Blink? Why did she care about his past and his trustworthiness? And why, she mentally kicked herself, had she made that stupid comment about walking in the park? Had she actually invited him to meet her in the park? And had he actually suggested that she go with him to meet his friends? Of course not, she thought angrily. He was only being polite, offering to walk her home and mentioning, in passing, his own plans. She couldn't believe she had taken what he had said so seriously! With a slight shake of her head, Lucy resolved to think no more of Kid Blink, and attempted to return her attention to the conversation, or rather debate, that was playing out between Councilmembers Thomas and Mr. Anderson, a lawyer friend of her father's.
"I tell you!" Thomas accentuated his declaration by pounding his fist on the table, "ordinary worms are just not suitable bait for trout fishing..."
Oh Lord, Lucy groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long night.
********************
The next couple of days couldn't have gone any slower than if Blink had been riding on the back of a three-legged tortoise. The heat wave continued, and the newsies found that even the threat of losing their wages couldn't entice them to leave the comfort of Tibby's restaurant to venture back into the streets. Kid, however, was determined to earn enough money to buy his own copy of Huckleberry Finn, since it looked like he wouldn't be seeing it in the library for some time. Therefore he was out every day hawking his papes, resisting the temptation to go with his friends to Coney Island and spend his extra pennies on sodapops, and trying his hardest to push the image of Lucy Morningside's penetrating blue eyes out of his mind.
Blink didn't return to the park that next evening or any evening following that. He didn't know what Lucy had meant when she disclosed that she liked to walk in Central Park during the evenings, but he knew that no matter how much he longed to see her again, he had to resist the temptation. Lucy Morningside, he reminded himself, was a rich girl with wealthy habits and a very naive perception of the world. Kid's own situation couldn't have been more different, and the possibility of the two becoming friends was just impossible. Even if they both wanted it to work, which, Blink admitted, was unlikely. All in all, the whole situation was completely ridiculous, and the only thing to do was to work harder and not think of Lucy and her gentle laugh, timid smile, and cryptic last words.
********************
Nearly two weeks had passed since the day Kid Blink met Lucy Morningside, and the worsening summer heat was not at all helped by bad headlines, making selling papers even more of a challenge.
"'Trolley workers threaten strike as negotiations go sour'," read Racetrack incredulously as he began to scan the newspaper for a good story. Kid paid for his 50 papes and joined Race on the steps. "Dey call dat a headline? Maybe we should go kidnap da mayor's daughter or somethin', den at least we'd get a decent headline da next day."
"I don't think you'd sell many papes in prison," Mush said, sitting himself down beside his friends. Mush looked through the paper absently, and didn't even notice when he flipped past an article entitled, "Tornado threatens home of oracular cow." Kid noticed the dreamy expression on the younger boy's face. He snapped his fingers in front of Mush's blank gaze, causing Mush to blink and look up.
"Huh?" he said, looking about him. Kid laughed.
"What's up wid you?" asked Kid. "You been actin' funny lately, you know dat?"
"Funny?" asked Mush nervously. Suddenly he seemed to find his shoes very interesting.
"Yeah, you been all starry-eyed, off in la-la land or somethin'," Blink pressed.
"An' how is dat diff'rent from how Mush always acts?" cracked Skittery drily. The others all laughed.
"So who's the goil, Mush?" Race asked slyly. Mush nearly fell off the step on which he was sitting. Kid and Skittery burst out laughing, along with the small crowd that had gathered, but Race kept his intent gaze on Mush, who had turned a bright shade of red.
"What goil?" Mush tried his best at wide-eyed innocence, but failed, and the crowd egged him on even more. After several minutes of prodding and cajoling from the newsies, Weasel finally yelled at the boys to move out of the way, and with Jack in the lead, they made their way into Manhattan, Mush's "goil" apparently forgotten.
As the pack of newsies began to separate in different directions, Mush, Kid, and Race found themselves, as always, walking together in the direction of the harbor before they would inevitably split up. Kid was busy calling out, "Cow predicts end of the woild in tornado!" when Race stepped up close to Mush and whispered to him.
"Okay, now ev'ryone's gone, you can tell me. Who's da goil?"
"Honest, there's no goil!" insisted Mush as he handed a paper to a man in a suit. "Not really."
"Whaddaya mean, not really?"
"Well," Mush took a deep breath and continued, "I was jus' thinkin' about this goil I sold a pape to the otha' day. That's all. I didn't talk 'er or nuthin'."
"Since when 'ave you been embarrassed to talk about goils, Mush?" asked Race.
"I dunno," Mush responded, kicking at a pebble with his worn shoes. "I just didn't wanna say nothin' about it in front o' the others. This goil was high class, and even if I did see 'er again, well, I ain't gotta chance with someone like that."
Race chucked his younger friend on the shoulder affectionately and smiled. "You dunno dat, kid," he said. "You may be surprised what a guy like you can do." Mush looked curiously at Race, surprised at the other boy's sudden outburst of wisdom. Race just smiled mysteriously and turned to catch up to Kid Blink, who had gotten pretty far ahead of the others. Mush sighed and picked up the pace, promising to himself that he would push the memory of the pretty, red-haired girl out of his mind once and for all. Because no matter what Racetrack said, a beautiful rich girl like her would never, ever go for a street rat like Mush.
"What's up wid Mush?" asked Kid once Race had caught up with him.
"Ah, he's just dreamin' about some rich goil he met the otha' day." An image flashed through Kid Blink's mind, bright blue eyes shaded by thick black lashes and a delicate, up-turned nose.
"Crazy kid," Blink laughed, a little too heartily. The three boys soon after split up, agreeing to meet later on at Tibby's for a drink. But even as the hours wore on, Kid was still not able to push the memory of Lucy's face out of his mind.