The Runaway('s) Birthday

The Runaway('s) Birthday

***

Cordelia looked out her bedroom window that morning, and breathed in the fresh breeze wafting in the open window. Just 4 years ago, she had been brought home from her runaway adventure by Jack Kelly and the rest of her new newsies friends. They had left after having been fed the biggest meal they had ever seen and when they had gone she got the biggest scolding she had ever heard. That day had been one of extremes. She had pouted that whole week. So why was she happy now? It was her birthday! Excitement flooded her spirit and she hopped out of bed and put on her birthday dress. She slowly brushed her hair and gazed into her mirror. Within those last four years she had blossomed into a very grown up young lady. Cordelia smiled at her reflection then wrinkled her nose at the little freckles on her cheeks. With one last brush her glossy chestnut hair was in place. On second thought she put on what she called her newsie hat and smiled. The hat looked just like her friend Racetrack's cap. She knew deep down that her parents might question it, but it was her birthday, wasn't it? Happily Cordelia bounced downstairs. On the way the servants wished her a happy birthday to which she cheerfully responded. Mr. and Mrs. Van Camp greeted their only daughter with hugs and kisses, AND an announcement. "My dear," Mr. Van Camp addressed his doughter. "We have three tickets to see a surprise opera.

Cordelia clapped her hands excitedly. An opera! "Oh, Papa, really? Honestly truely?"

"Honestly and truely."

Cordelia ran to her father and embraced him. "Thank you, Papa."

Mrs. Van Camp spoke up. "We will also be going to see SUPRISE ballet."

Cordelia placed her hands on her cheeks for they were quite flushed. "This is more than I had hoped for. An opera And a ballet in one day." Suddenly she grinned. "What is for breakfast?"

"Crumpets, eggs benedict, oh, I can't even remember," her mother replied with a mischevious smile.

"And as soon as breakfast is over your little group of friends are coming over for a party." Cordelia sighed. For a moment she had thought of her newsie friends, but she knew her parents meant her friends from school. When they were seated at the table her parents looked at each other and exchanged knowing glances. Mr. Van Camp spoke up. "Cordelia, will you please remove your cap at the table?" Cordelia looked anxious. "And yes you may wear it the rest of the day because it is your birthday, but honestly. I think that is does not become your pretty face and dress."

"Well, Papa, to be honest it helps me pretend that my newsie friends are here." All of them sighed for their own various reasons and started in on their breakfast. Cordelia thought sadly about how her parents hadn't let her newsie friends visit her. In the past years she had only gotten a glimse of a few of them and a very distant wave from across a block. Nevertheless,the little family had a very lovely breakfast together and by eleven o'clock they had finished and prepared for the party.

At eleven thirty sharp the guests started to arrive and Cordelia greeted them gracefully and cordially. As soon as everone had arrived the various games began. Eating cake and ice cream and a light lunch were soon to follow. By the time three o'clock had arrived there had never been a more tired and happy group. The large town house was soon empty except for father, mother, and daughter and many servants with their hands full. While Mr. and Mrs. Van Camp sat in the den and rested, Cordelia took a nap in which she dreamed happy birthday thoughts.

At six o'clock, The Van Camps got ready to go to the opera and ballet. They were quite a splendid parade coming down the steps of their house. A servant held open the door of the carriage. The driver was fixing the horse's bridal. The servant first helped Cordelia into the carriage who was wearing a white lacy dress with a lavender sash. Now the servant was well aware that it was proper manners for Mrs. Van Camp to get into the carriage first, but her earbob had gotten caught in her wrap, and Mr. VanCamp was assisting her. Cordelia sat inside waiting for her parents. She sighed in delight. What a happy evening she was going to have!

Suddenly, her dreamy thoughts were burst by a commotion. The carriage started rocking violently back and forth, making the carriage door slam shut. There was shouting and cursing. Cordelia screamed.

Suddenly the horse tore himself from the driver's grasp and dashed madly down the street, Cordelia hanging on inside the carriage for her dear life. And just under the clatter of the wheels on the cobblestones came the frantic cries of her mother and father.

*~~~~~~~*

The carriage ran and ran, and Cordelia felt as if it had been an hour, but it had only been fifteen minutes. The horse sped amongst screams and shouts and still Cordelia clung for dear life. At this moment She could feel they were crossing a bridge, She scrambled to the window and saw water. She swayed. When would this horse stop? The coach had slowed a bit, but the horse had been so spooked by something, it had no intention of stopping. Then with a screaching, and a sudden jerk, it did, making Cordelia almost topple to the floor. A blissfull silence caressed the air. Cordelia, seeing that she was safe let fatigue take over and she fainted.

A head popped up to peep through the window. "Shoot!" he whispered, upon seeing the runaway cargo that he had stopped. Spot Conlon opened the door and peered at the girl. She was dressed real fancy, fancy enough to be from 5th Avenue. Her hair was mussed, obviously from the horse's crazy run. Her dark tresses lay across her face, hiding her features. Spot gasped. "She bettah, not be dead," he muttered, and climbed in. His cane knocked against the door as he got in, and the noise made the girl stir. Suddenly she sat up and her hair fell from her face. She was a pretty little girl, Spot noticed, and even a little familiar.

She gasped when she saw him at the opposite end of the carriage seat. The sun was setting and the shadows hid his face, but the sun glaring through the doorway behind him, brightened her half of the carriage. "Who are you?" Cordelia gasped.

Spot smiled. "Do ya need me to get you to a doctah?"

"I'm not injured. Do you know why my carriage stopped?" Spot laughed. The way she said it, it sounded like she had been on a leisurely ride through New York. "It isn't funny, sir."

He wised up. "No, it ain't. Yer horse was running wild across me Brooklyn Bridge and I didn't know if anyone was in heah. So I stopped it. Anyway, may I?" He had gotten out of the carriage and offered to help her out, very gentleman like. She nodded, reached down in the carriage to pick something up and then gave him her gloved hand. He helped her down.She brushed off her soiled dress, and sighed.

Spot noticed the thing she had picked up off the floor of the carriage was a cap like his. His curiosity was aroused. "What's dat in yer hand?" he asked casually. Cordy hid it behind her back and swayed. Her eyes fluttered and Spot rolled his eyes "What an actress," he thought sarcastically.

Still, he wasn't a stupid bum. He knew how to treat a lady. He offered his arm and she took it, leaning very heavily on him. "I need to notify my parents," she murmered breathily.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you need. And what about yer carriage and horse?" he asked, leading her across the bridge and down the street.

"Oh, John, will fetch it," She waved her hand airally. The boy raised his eyebrow. Just then he led her under a street lamp. Cordelia looked over to her helper and gasped. she tried to stifle it but did not succeed.

"What's da madduh?" Spot grunted.

"If it is any of your business. You looked familiar. That's all."

"Small woild." Both became hautily silent. The handsom face of Spot Conlon looked familiar to her and suddenly she remembered crossing a bridge on someone's back, and a young man on a high perch with a cane... She casually glanced toward her new companion and spotted the cane tucked under his arm.

Cordelia was reminded of her newsie friends from this memory. Abruptly an evil idea popped into her head. She'd visit her newsie friends in Manhatten! She might as well, especially since it was her birthday and this gentleman just might know where the lodging house where her friends lived. "Excuse me," she spoke up meekly, silently admiring his fine profile. Spot turned to her and stopped in the street. Her arm still in his. "I-I was wondering if you knew of a Mr. Jack Kelly or a Mr. Racetrack Higgins."

Spot looked a little surprised. "Sure I do. Dere both me best friends." "Wonderful! That is such a relief. Mr. Kelly would certainly know what to do with me." She giggled. Spot could definately tell she was fully recovered and she continued. "I really am quite lost and-"

"Just tell me where and I'll take you home."

She smiled to herself with her little white lie. "Ah, It's not quite that easy. My father looks down upon the lower classes, but he does know Mr. Kelly and would probably be much more well received than a lower class young man my father doesn't know." She said all of this quite delicately so as to avoid hurting his feelings. She could tell the boy next to her was fairly proud of whatever standing in life that he posessed.

Her candidness did no good, for Spot still felt ruffled and a streak of jealosy ran through his heart. He was becoming annoyed by this pretty rambling girl beside him but, nevertheless, the mention of his competitor and friend ticked him off still further. But since she WAS "a damsel in distress" and he so liked to be a valient, trustworthy, and knowlegable rescuer that he brushed these feelings aside and spoke. "I am your ready and willing servent and now the Manhatten Newsboys Lodging House is our destination."

"Thank you," she replied a little more humble out of relief. She showed no sign of her earlier ride and fainting spell. They walked at a brisker pace now that Spot knew where he was going and soon they came to the lodging house that had just been spoken of. The thoughts and questions of Spot Conlon's great mind slowed as they approached the residence of Jack Kelly.

Cordelia turned to him and said stiffly, feeling awkward at the mental fondness she suddenly felt for him. "I can never thank you enough."

Relieved at having to leave her so soon, spoke. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you." She replied curtly, conscience of her red cheeks.

He leaned and kissed her hand. "We shall meet another time perhaps," he whispered, a little sarcastically. She smiled and then he turned and dissappeared into the darkening twilight.

*****************

Jack Kelly was sitting on his chair backwards and was playing a game of poker with Race, Bumlets and Skittery before they would have to trudge up to bed. All the other Manhatten newsies were absorbed in other things. Jack looked at the clock and sighed. When would this game ever end?? He had a lousy hand and the twinkle in Race's eye was a bad sign. A soft knock on the door roused Jack's wandering attention. So he got up and went to the door. As soon as he opened it someone squealed and jumped into his arms.

"Jack!!!"

"Wha-" all his air had been knocked out of his stomach. "I can't keep track- Let me see who dis is."

Cordelia jumped down. "It's me! Knicks!"

Recognition slowly registered on his face. "Really! It's me own little Knicks?" He turned, grinning. "Hey youse guys!! Knicks is here!" Everyone dropped what they were doing and joined their leader. She was well recieved, but many a newsie peered at each other in question as they patted her on the back, or shook her hand etc... This worried her until there were tears in her eyes.

Racetrack spoke up. "What's sa mattah, Knicks? It's great to see ya!"

"I-I," she broke down and sobbed.

Race patted her on the back. Jack may be popular with the girls but he sure didn't know how to comfort one. So Race took over. "What's da mattah, sugah? You can tell ol' Race." Many of the newsies looked about ready to burst out with laughter. Snipe did.

"I - None of you recognized me at first. Have you forgotten m-me?" She sobbed into his vest. They looked down at the soiled, redfaced, sobbing girl and felt guilty. They hadn't seen her in so long and she had grown up so much that of course they hadn't recognized her! Race smiled at the other guys. They smiled back.

"Look, Knicks. You'se grown up so much, of course we couldn't recognize ya!" Cordy cried harder. Snipe laughed again and he was kicked in the leg. He scowled and left the room pouting.

All at once apologies flowed from the mouths of her friends and she forgave them in an instant. She dried her tears with Race's handkerchief and explained her predicament. Then she whispered, "It's also my birhtday today." Everyone whistled and cat called, removed their hats and sang Happy Birthday very scratchily. Knickerbockers didn't care though. It was the best birthday present she could have received.

******************

After the song came laughter and all at once the newsies reached into their own pockets trying to find a last minute gift of some sort. They came up with marbles, rubber bands, scraps of paper with love poems scratched onto them for another girl, handkerchiefs, and more. Cordy laughed with tears still hanging in her eyes and accepted her presents gratefully. "Oh, my. You are the most wonderful friends that a girl could ever have. Especially Race!" She smiled, and he turned red. A small frown replaced her happiness. "I'm afraid that you have to take me back home now. My parents are worrying." There were protests aplenty.

"How di ya find dis place, Knicks, or did you get here all by yerself?" Jack asked.

Cordelia looked down at her shoes. "No, a young man brought me here because I asked him to. My parents have no idea..." Her voice trailed off. Race burst out, "I can't believe you were walkin' da street with a guy you didn't even know and I can't believ you're safe and.... you look hungry and -" Race turned suddenly and left to scrounge up some food for her.

"But I did know him, from somewhere, it's hard to say." She blushed.

"What did he look like?" Kid Blink asked. She descibed him and everyone seemed to know who she was talking about although they didn't say so out loud.

"What is it?" she whispered. "Who is he exactly?"

"His name's Spot Conlon," Mush blurted out.

Cordy's eyes grew wide. "You don't mean Spot Conlon of the Brooklyn Bridge do you??!!" They nodded. She felt like screaming and the noise that came out of her was the sound of a strangled one at least.

"What is it Knicks?" Race asked, very concerned, coming back with some buttered bread. She didn't speak only stared. "Give her some room!" Race cried. Everyone moved back. "What is it?" Racetrack crooned to the shocked girl.

"I-I was so rude," she managed to get out. "He was so kind and I-" She looked around her. "My cap," she mumbled.

"Well, he coitanly deserved it!" Jack said. "He's had it coming for a long time, to come from a goil." A knock on the door interrupted. Bumlets went and opened it. There was some mumbling and the door was shut. Bumlets came back with a cap in his hand.

"Conlon dropped of yer missing hat. Said you dropped it."

When Race saw the look on Knicks face he yelled at Bumlets, "You fool!!!"

"What?!" the poor boy tried to defend himself.

Cordelia Van Camp got up and turned to her friends, her eyes a little wild. "I want you to escort me home as you did a few years ago, but I will be fine and I don't need to be carried." She kissed Racetrack on the cheek leaving him with the bread he had gotten for her, waved goodbye to the rest of her friends, and with the cap in her hands rushed out the door. The newsies of Manhatten cheered after her heartily.

********

"Spot! Mr. Conlon!!!" Cordelia cried. She had reached the statue of Horace Greely after going up and down surrounding streets, and had given up hope. "I don't know where else to look," she thought to herself. She was breathing hard from her short run, and collapsed at the man's iron statue feet. She was very dissapointed. She had thought Spot would appear the first time she called. "I suppose I was a little too rude." She sighed.

She gazed down at the cobble stones and a pair of worn boots were there, frayed laces that were different lengths held them toghether. She looked up and there stood Spot Conlon. In the lamplight he smiled cockily. "Oh!" she gasped. "I've been looking all over for you. I wanted to apologize. I was such a beast. You'll forgive me won't you! I'm ever so sorry. I'm sure you're terribly angry with me and-"

"It's Knickerbockers isn't it?"

"Well yes!" she gasped. "Actually it's Cordelia Van Camp. But they do call me Knicks; the newsies in Manhatten I mean."

"Well, Cordelia Van Camp, Are you sure I can't assist you? You did call my name for half an hour." He felt only a twinge of guilt.

"Then you did hear me! I have gone quite hoarse since then."

"Obviously," he joked."Well, I was going to, that is to ask you if-" "If I would escort you home? I suppose I could."

"Yes, thank you." He helped her to stand and arm in arm they headed to 5th avenue. Spot was secretly awed that she lived in such high class. They reached her house and all the lights were on inside but it was quiet. Spot combed his hair with his fingers as best as he could, mounted the steps and rang the bell. Both parents came to the door and grasped their daughter pratically shrieking with happiness.

Spot slipped a note into Cordy's hand and when she finally escaped from her parents and turned around he was gone.The little family went inside and before she had to explain everything, slipped a little ways off and read the note. He must have scribbled it during the long commotion.

It read: I forgiv you but I wish dat you wold hav John remov yer carrige. It is blockin trafic. you droped your hat agin. If you want it com and get it. yer willing servent, Spot Conlon

Knickerbockers smiled mysteriously and tucked the note away.

THE END