Chapter 8
Spot had stopped by a few other times, but life continued on as it usually did. I was still at the fruit stand, having not yet convinced my family that I should be a newsie instead of just a fruit seller.
It was a Monday, and towards the end of my day, I was feeling a little tired. There were the usual kids around, so I didn't notice the girl standing off to the side. The other kids looked greedily at the fruit in front of them, wishing I wasn't watching, wishing me to turn my back to them so they could feed their hungry bellies. I was watching one certain boy who was edging closer to the oranges when I caught sight of the blond haired girl who I had never seen before. She was right there with the apples and before I knew it, had snatched up an apple. She had her blond hair tucked into a bun and looked half starved. I was going to let her off the hook, but the cops also saw this and took off chasing after her. The other children watched in amazement as the girl was chased after, dropping her apple and disappeared into the depths of Brooklyn.
The others slowly wandered off, realizing I wouldn't let them get away with taking some fruit. I closed up shop, not seeing Spot around, so I headed towards my street by myself. I wondered what had happened to that girl as I walked by the multitudes of buildings. The crowds of people were waning but there were still enough to cause the noise to echo off the buildings. What a life this was, I thought to myself as I turned down Poplar, where everything seemed peaceful and quiet.
****
We went to Aidan's on the first cold day of the year. He had gotten a new apartment out in Queens so it was quite the hike over. It was a rather nice apartment, maybe even better than our apartment on Poplar. We had managed to stay there for quite some time, even with Pa drinking heavily again. Mother was considering letting me be a newsie, but no final word yet on that one. I had been hanging more and more at the lodging house and she was convinced I had started gambling like my father, even though I hadn't lost or won anything, but that didn't matter as far as she was concerned. I wasn't gambling, often times when I was there, there wasn't even a game going on. Often times we would just sit out on the roof and watch the stars and talk about things.
"We'se been havin problems with this Italian gang a little east of heah." Strike and I were on pretty good terms, I realized he wasn't as scary as his berth, it was just his attitude and you had to be mean right back to get on the same level as him. "They'se causin a little bit of trouble, and its gettin hardah to keep track of em." He took a drag of his cigarette, which was a prominent part of his presense I noticed since seeing him the first night at the lodging house.
"We'll fight em if we hafta, but I ain't causin no trouble wid dem now. Most of us are too young ta fight." Braker, young himself, said. This was more like a meeting than just a hang out. I was sitting with the girls listening to the boys discuss this latest problem. Sometimes we'd throw our own two cents in, but normally we just kept our mouths shut.
"No fighting, not yet." Spot said, smoking a cigarette himself.
"Why the hell not Conlon? They'se gonna think we're babies since we ain't fightin em." Dash, who was always ready for a fight, even with all the girls, said, punching the air. We didn't get along, Dash and I. He thought I was a stupid rich bitch who had no friends so she had to stick it up with the newsies to make sure she feels all important. That didn't get on my good side so the dislikement went right back at him.
"If we fight, den we'se get ourselves in some deep shit." Spot said. "And I dun want to get in any more shit than I hafta."
"And dat's why Conlon will be takin ovah my place when I go." Strike's word was always the last, and Dash squirmed but he wouldn't fight back. He knew if he wanted a fight, he'd get one from Strike and Strike would deck him one quicker than he knew what was going on. "No fighting. Period." He stood up and the meeting was over. He left the scene but the rest of the boys stayed behind, either to complain or just to chat.
Joker approached us girls and winked at me. "So when ya gonna join da newsies and be me goil?" He nudged me with his elbow.
"Never Joker, just for the reason to stay away from you!" I always teased him and at this point he'd pretend to cry and then give a big smile.
"You know you love me, I bet you'se admitted it to all dese goils heah."
"Yeah, she's jus crazy fer ya Jokah." Voodoo snickered. She and I had started talking and become pretty good friends over the weeks. Luna laughed at her remark.
"Yeah she dreams about ya every night don'tcha Shasta darling?" Spot had told everyone in the house that my name was now Shasta and that anyone calling me otherwise, would be given a soaking. Except for Voodoo who still called me Irish.
"Oh every night!" I rolled my eyes and we all laughed. Joker tried to look hurt but it didn't work.
It was like this a lot of the times, Joker playing around with my head and us girls abusing him as we went. Dash wanted nothing to do with us, but sometimes Braker or Needles joined us. Needles was a couple years older, and was one of the more dangerous newsies. He was nice enough to us girls but it always seemed forced. As of lately he's gotten a little more hostile and has verbally attacked Voodoo on several occasions. Needles doesn't join us tonight but Braker does.
"Jokah you ain't harrassin dese goils are ya?" Braker sat down on the ledge and puffed on his cigarette. He had a distant look in his eyes as usual.
"What's on yer mind Brakah?" Luna spoke up.
He shrugged. "Nuttin. Everthin. Some distant relative has decided dey want ta come to New York and get me. I'se don't wanna leave." This often happened to the newsies, as Spot had explained. A lot in the past year had to leave because of family showing up out of the blue to pluck them back to their little clouds in the sky. Some families had money, but a lot didn't, which was why the newsies were here. 'You heah of a lot of stories about these parents who are really rich coming back to their long lost childr'n. Dat nevah happens ta us or anyone we knows of.' Spot once said. The parents of the newsies usually are drunks, lowlifes or poor, and have to have someone to help support them. Others are orphans, but rarely did they have runaways.
"Where's your family from?" I asked.
He shrugged again. "I dunno, me parents nevah said where my aunts or uncles lived. Nevah even knew I had em, cept for dis aunt heah in New York who won't even look at me." His parents had died five years earlier in a plague, he was sent to New York to live with an Aunt but the Aunt had refused to take him in since there was no money for her to even survive on so he was forced to get a job and get a place of his own.
We sat in silence, not really knowing how to console him. He obviously didn't want to leave, five years is quite a bit of time to be spent in one place, and you get to know a lot of people that way.
"I would actually love to go live with family." Voodoo said. Her parents were poor and lived in Harlem, kicking her out of her 11 child family. "But not with my Mother. She hates me." Her Father divorced her Mother and her Mother was stuck raising the 11 children. She grew very bitter and when Voodoo was 8, she was kicked out of her family along with her two older brothers. She rarely saw her brothers, and when she did they were always looking for money. 'They're lowlife dirty scumbags only wantin to see dere sistah fer money.' She often said.
"Why Voodoo?" I asked, I wanted out of my family, yet she wanted back in.
"I'm sick of being street rubbish."
"You ain't street rubbish." Luna was insulted. Voodoo may be talking about herself, but it applied to all the newsies. "No newsie is street rubbish. We'se workin' jus like the rest of em." Voodoo just scowled.
"I didn't mean you was street rubbish, I'se just sick of bein treated like it. I don't like it, it's almost worse than livin' wid me mum."
Friends will hurt each other without meaning to, but it happens, and that night there was some bitterness hanging around the lodging house when I left.