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
