Chapter 6
Everyone was home for dinner, and the house was humming. Pa wasn't drunk, a first time in a while, and he actually stuck around for dessert. Mother was in a better mood, she wasn't sulking and she actually left Aidan and I to do the dishes. Pa and her had decided to take a walk around the block in the last sunlight of the day, and it was good to have them out of the house.
"It's their anniversary you know." Aidan said, putting some pots away in the cupboards. Mother had brought over a few pots and pans and some dishes from Ireland so we could have something to eat on here in this new country.
"No wonder. Pa isn't drunk and Mother's not too worried about us getting some deadly disease." Aidan gave me a look that said 'why so bitter?' I had a right to be bitter. Did I not have to deal with Mother's worries and naggings? Did I not have to deal with Father coming home every night drunk off his ass, dancing with the coat rack? Aidan had his own small room on Orange Street and didn't have to take care of his younger siblings, one whom is so grief stricken by the loss of her sister, that she sits and rocks in the corner and will only talk to her imaginary friends.
"I'm sure they're not that bad, Brenna, you always exaggerate." Sometimes I am so glad that he lives on his own. Oh how I wish I could do the same.
"You don't know what it's like here! You've heard the stories of Pa! He's getting worse, he nearly killed the neighbors cat and it looks like we might have to move because he is disturbing the peace!" I threw down the pot I was holding into the sudsy water and stormed out of the room, brushing past Siobhan who was practically sleep walking, with her dazed look on her face and Maria's doll clutched to her chest.
"Have you seen Maria?" Her voice was as silent as the wind but I heard it. I stopped dead in my tracks. It had been months since Maria's death on the boat, yet Siobhan refused to believe that Maria, her twin, was dead. Or else she just didn't understand the concept of death.
"Honey, Maria isn't here, she went for a…swim." We sometimes told her this and it would make her feel better, but this time she just looked sadder.
"Maria been gone for a long swim then. She come back soon?" Siobhan's big blue eyes peered hopefully out at me from behind her brown curls.
"I don't think so, she's got a long swim." She just nodded and walked into the kitchen mumbling something how Maria is a good swimmer and would be back soon. It tore my heart out and I just had to leave. Let Aidan take care of the children for once, I couldn't take being in the house any longer than I had to.
The old woman was on the stoop again shelling her nuts. She barely glanced up when I walked out and I barely even said hi to her as I went on my way down the street. I heard her mumbling something about my shenanigans with the newsies but I didn't care. I wanted out of my house, and away from my neighborhood. I wandered for what seemed like hours and found myself on Columbia Heights, where the newsboys lodging house was. After some negotiations in my head, I wandered into the lodging house.
It was so loud in the hall, boys of all ages were running up and down the stairs but they all stopped to stare at me when I entered the room. A middle-aged man looked up from his ledgers, glasses perched on his nose, about to fall off.
"Yes young lady? What can I help you with?" He sounded exsasperated as though he'd been dealing with one too many troublemakers this evening.
"I, well, I uhh was looking for Spot Conlon." A few snickers were heard and a tall figure which I recognized from the docks made his way down the stairs, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.
"Strike, put that damn cigarette away. I said no smoking in the house!" The man behind the desk was standing now, looking more worn out than angry. Strike blew smoke towards the man and continued to smoke it.
"Kid, what the hell you doin heah?" Strike said, walking up to me. Spot had told me not to be intimidated by him, and I tried not to shrink away from his brooding presense but I couldn't help but flinch when I blew smoke in my face.
"Aw, Strike leave da goil alone." A boy around my age, I presumed, said from the banister. He had been watching me since I walked in. He had a baby face but was thin as a bony skeleton. Strike just threw him a look which silenced him.
"Well, kid what you doin? Newsies don't like da uppah class."
"She ain't
no uppah class, Strike." This was when I noticed the girls in the room.
The one who spoke for me had long black hair, a pale face with nice eyes
underneath her rugged persona. She eyed me carefully then smiled. "She's jest
like us only she ain't no newsie." She crossed the room and stood next to me.
"Me names Luna, you call on me if ya ever get buggered by our big bad leader
Strike." She smiled sweetly at Strike who only scowled and turned away. "So ya
looking for Conlon eh? He's me best friend in dis joint. He's just playin some
pokah with the boys. Some from Manhattan even, big event. Whats yer name goil?"
"Brenna O'Reilly. Thanks for sticking up for me." I was impressed, she obviously had some clout with Strike otherwise he would've just thrown her aside. The other boys were starting to wander into another room, where I presumed the poker game was going on.
"Well, Brenna, how bout we go in and see how bad Brooklyn's beatin' Manhattan." She smiled and winked at the man who was looking relieved that this bicker had been cut short. We walked into the room where there must have been at least 50 newsies sitting in chairs or perched on tables, watching the one table in the middle of the room where Spot and a few other boys sat playing cards. Is this was my Father played while gambling away the land and money? I figured so.
We sat in silence, letting each player take his turn. The players consisted of Joker, who looked actually serious, a shorter Italian, his brow furrowed, and I guessed he wasn't having much luck. I mentioned this to Luna.
"Ha! Race yer pokah face ain't working! Dis heah goil can see straight through ya!" Race just glanced up and frowned at her.
"Dis is me pokah face. I'se doin just fine." He bent his head back down over his cards and straightened out his face. I just giggled.
The next player was another one of the Brooklyn boys, I had only seen him a couple times and I didn't think he cared for me much. He had black hair and I've heard he was called Dash by a couple other boys. The 4th player had his back to me so I really couldn't see his features. He wore a bandana around his neck and had a head of sandy blond hair. A cowboy hat sat perched on the back of the chair. He was called Cowboy by the newsies, he was a Manhattan newsie,but his real name was Francis Sullivan, as Luna explained in a hushed whisper.
The game ended shortly after, with Joker collecting the winnings and Race barging off muttering how he never wins. These boys were pretty young, maybe a little older than me, but not by much. I was surprised by how much older they seemed than regular kids my age.
"Hey boys!" Luna jumped up on the poker table to catch everyone's attention. "Dis heah is Brenna, she's a pal of mine and Conlons, so give her a nice welcome." A few hey Brennas headed in my direction and I caught a glimpse of Cowboy's face. A pretty nice face if you ask me, still kind of young looking, but one that would look nice a few years down the line. Everyone started to scatter and Spot came over to Luna and I.
"What ya doin heah Brenna?"
"Had to get away from my family so I went walking and ended up here." I shrugged, that was really the only reason, I didn't intentionally head in this direction with the purpose of going to see the newsies.
"Well, now ya get ta see where we'se live. Ain't much but it's a home." Spot shoved his hands in his pockets and scowled.
"Spot don't like dose…what ya call em…sentimentalities." Luna sounded it out and smiled when she got it right. Spot just glared at her and walked out of the room. Luna and I followed shortly after him. "So you'se from Ireland right?" I nodded. "How long you been heah? In New York I mean."
"Four months." Has it really only been four months? It seems like 2 years have gone by since we first landed here. "How'd ya know I was from Ireland?"
"Yer accent silly. Hey I want ya to meet my pal Voodoo." A girl who was reading on the stairs looked up and gave me a nod. "Voodoo this heah is Brenna, she's Irish." Luna seemed to be very proud of that fact.
"Hey Irish." Voodoo gave a word of welcome and went back to her book. Voodoo wasn't the only one to call me Irish, a few other newsies started calling me that as well. I met a few other newsies, some from Brooklyn, others from Manhattan. I was going to leave when I got stopped by a taller version of Cowboy, only he seemed stronger and much older. His blue eyes stood out in contrast with his dark hair but they were friendly.
"Wheah you goin' all by yerself? I know you ain't livin down in the goils lodgin house, so wheahs you headed?"
"Back home."
"Home being…" The guy wasn't going to give up.
"Apartment on Doughty Street. You going to let me go or are you going to make me pay you to let me get out of here?" He laughed at this and stuck out his hand.
"Me names Trick, I'se da leadah of the Manhattan newsies. I heah you'se called Irish?"
"That's just some nickname someone gave me. My name's Brenna." I shook his offered hand.
"Ya think Trick's me birth name?!" He laughed again, a good heartly laugh and I liked him from that moment on. He seemed so easy going, not quite the intimidator that Strike was. "Me real names Alexander Laramie, but don't ya evah call me that hoity toity name." He looked serious but there was laughter in those clear blue eyes. "Let me walk ya home, it's a dangerous woild out dere and I wouldn't want some goil like you getting hoit."
So that was that, he walked me home and I discovered how much I really wanted to become a newsie just by talking to this oversized teddy bear who made the life seem so glamorous . But how could I just leave my family and go off to Manhattan? The only way I could become one was to stick around with Strike and the Brooklyn "gang." We're all faced with challenges in life, and I suppose Strike is one of them.