St. Matthew
by Coneflower Adams
Disclaimer: The song "St. Matthew" is owned by Michael Nesmith. I'm just using the 'plot' of the song loosely for this story. Sainta/Leigh is owned by me though. Newsies belong to Disney…duh.
***
He fell solidly on the splintered bench in Grand Central Station. The news had killed his spirit like a knife to the gut. Every person waiting for the arrival of the freight coming from Boston, MA was hit hard by the news. "I'm sorry Mr. Denton, there was a freight accident. There were no survivors." The only image that flashed before him was of her. She had become his life when he realized there were more important things to life then a career.
Renee Kerry became engaged to Bryan Denton three months after the newsboy strike of 1899. They'd met in Cuba during the war. Renee was a stationed nurse at a clinic for the wounded soldiers. Bryan was writing about the war, and visited the clinic to interview soldiers. Renee was the nurse who showed him around the clinic and told him who he could talk to.
Their friendship grew as Bryan visited the clinic more. After he left Cuba, they keep in touch for those few months, but found they couldn't live without each other. Renee was sent back home to Boston, but couldn't stay there. She wanted to be with Bryan.
It had been nine months since they had been engaged. But for this particular occasion, Renee had traveled back to Boston to visit her parents. Bryan was at Grand Central Station when he heard the news of the accident.
Now he sat there on the bench, a heap of a man. Sobbing uncontrollably with his insides twisting painfully thinking of his lost love.
***
"Do we have to part ways?" a middle-aged man asked to his compartment companion…who had taken pity on him when she saw how lonely he appeared. "You've been quite generous to me. I hate to see you go." He kissed the delicate hand he was holding.
"Oh Manual, I'm sorry I cannot go with you to Atlantic City. As much as I would like to…" the auburn headed girl answered back. "Thank you for your company." She shimmered a plausible smile.
"We'll meet again, I'm sure of it" Manual declared. "Goodbye, my Sainta."
The girl just turned - without a word - into the mass of people, not looking back. It was always hard leaving the men she came across, but both her jobs were done. Manual felt more confident now and was a bit happier. His prized 14 carrot gold ring was missing though. It settled on the finger of the girl he called "Sainta". Of course, that was another thing the rich man wasn't aware of…her name wasn't Sainta.
How many more names can I alternate with before I can actually use my real one? - she thought, amusingly. I can't see that happening. Portraying a legend, you never can have your real name known.
She sighed, heavily. "Time to move on." She assumed it would take a few days to find what she was searching for: a partly shattered man. The mournful cries of people scattered around the depot didn't seem to effect her any. The train she had just stepped off of was pulling away from the depot as Sainta caught sight of a certain Ace War Correspondent. She knew what to do.
Bryan Denton stared up from leaning over his lap, head in hands. A person had gently touched his shoulder. His crimson eyes meet the sight of lovely portrait. The fractious gaze from the broken man told the story. She'd seen the situation a dozen times.
"You loved her very much" the auburn headed girl stated with a sense of sorrow.
Trying to regain coherent speech, Bryan nodded - weeping. "Yes, more than anything."
"What's your name?" She sat down beside him, taking his trembling hand in hers.
"Bryan Denton" he replied, wiping a hot tear.
"Let me take you home." The girl started to raise up when Bryan caught her wrist. He peered into her brown eyes, capturing all the sincerity of the girl's mannerisms.
"Who are you?"
The girl held up her hand alongside Bryan's red cheek. "You'll learn soon enough."
***
Gosh, I sure hope the rest of this fic goes as smooth as this first part! Hope you've enjoyed the fic so far!
by Coneflower Adams
Disclaimer: The song "St. Matthew" is owned by Michael Nesmith. I'm just using the 'plot' of the song loosely for this story. Sainta/Leigh is owned by me though. Newsies belong to Disney…duh.
***
He fell solidly on the splintered bench in Grand Central Station. The news had killed his spirit like a knife to the gut. Every person waiting for the arrival of the freight coming from Boston, MA was hit hard by the news. "I'm sorry Mr. Denton, there was a freight accident. There were no survivors." The only image that flashed before him was of her. She had become his life when he realized there were more important things to life then a career.
Renee Kerry became engaged to Bryan Denton three months after the newsboy strike of 1899. They'd met in Cuba during the war. Renee was a stationed nurse at a clinic for the wounded soldiers. Bryan was writing about the war, and visited the clinic to interview soldiers. Renee was the nurse who showed him around the clinic and told him who he could talk to.
Their friendship grew as Bryan visited the clinic more. After he left Cuba, they keep in touch for those few months, but found they couldn't live without each other. Renee was sent back home to Boston, but couldn't stay there. She wanted to be with Bryan.
It had been nine months since they had been engaged. But for this particular occasion, Renee had traveled back to Boston to visit her parents. Bryan was at Grand Central Station when he heard the news of the accident.
Now he sat there on the bench, a heap of a man. Sobbing uncontrollably with his insides twisting painfully thinking of his lost love.
***
"Do we have to part ways?" a middle-aged man asked to his compartment companion…who had taken pity on him when she saw how lonely he appeared. "You've been quite generous to me. I hate to see you go." He kissed the delicate hand he was holding.
"Oh Manual, I'm sorry I cannot go with you to Atlantic City. As much as I would like to…" the auburn headed girl answered back. "Thank you for your company." She shimmered a plausible smile.
"We'll meet again, I'm sure of it" Manual declared. "Goodbye, my Sainta."
The girl just turned - without a word - into the mass of people, not looking back. It was always hard leaving the men she came across, but both her jobs were done. Manual felt more confident now and was a bit happier. His prized 14 carrot gold ring was missing though. It settled on the finger of the girl he called "Sainta". Of course, that was another thing the rich man wasn't aware of…her name wasn't Sainta.
How many more names can I alternate with before I can actually use my real one? - she thought, amusingly. I can't see that happening. Portraying a legend, you never can have your real name known.
She sighed, heavily. "Time to move on." She assumed it would take a few days to find what she was searching for: a partly shattered man. The mournful cries of people scattered around the depot didn't seem to effect her any. The train she had just stepped off of was pulling away from the depot as Sainta caught sight of a certain Ace War Correspondent. She knew what to do.
Bryan Denton stared up from leaning over his lap, head in hands. A person had gently touched his shoulder. His crimson eyes meet the sight of lovely portrait. The fractious gaze from the broken man told the story. She'd seen the situation a dozen times.
"You loved her very much" the auburn headed girl stated with a sense of sorrow.
Trying to regain coherent speech, Bryan nodded - weeping. "Yes, more than anything."
"What's your name?" She sat down beside him, taking his trembling hand in hers.
"Bryan Denton" he replied, wiping a hot tear.
"Let me take you home." The girl started to raise up when Bryan caught her wrist. He peered into her brown eyes, capturing all the sincerity of the girl's mannerisms.
"Who are you?"
The girl held up her hand alongside Bryan's red cheek. "You'll learn soon enough."
***
Gosh, I sure hope the rest of this fic goes as smooth as this first part! Hope you've enjoyed the fic so far!