AFL Chapter 16
Mush left as soon as he could, not speaking another word, no matter how much I begged him. Spot too left shortly after, but he promised to return as soon as he could. I ran up to my room where I resided for the whole of the afternoon and evening, crying and wondering where my life had gone wrong. When my tears had dried up, I started to read Shakespeare's Hamlet, which Grandfather had given me long before along with Romeo and Juliet. After I read the part about Ophelia's drowning, I cried some more, because I understood her: she'd lied to Hamlet because she thought she was helping him get better, and then in turn she'd gone crazy. I wondered if I would go crazy because Mush wasn't around me anymore.
Around nine-thirty that night, I was so thirsty that I decided to venture from my room. I remembered Pierre had made some fabulous lemonade the day before, and I went to sneak down the dark stairs, holding only my candle. As I passed by Mother and Father's room, I heard them talking quietly. I was about to move down the stairs when I heard my name. I pressed my ear to their door.
"…How can she just expect us to accept and forgive her?" Mother was saying. "She hurt us beyond belief, but all she can think about is herself!" She sounded very angry.
"Don't worry, Meredith," said my father. "We'll turn her back into the proper young lady she used to be. Philip Cartwright has been asking about her, and now that she's back home, we'll arrange their marriage."
I drew back from the door in shock. The flame flickered, and my heart skipped a beat, too. Philip Cartwright? I hated the boy. I always had, ever since I'd first met him when I was four years old.
I turned away, needing to get back from the door, and ran into Grandfather.
I hadn't seen him since that day when we'd all danced in the street, and he looked horrible. His eyes were even more so sunken in, his gray hair stood on end. His clothes were rumpled. I wondered why Grandmother hadn't made him change.
He glared at me with his dark, unfeeling eyes. "Leave this place, Victoria," he said, and his voice was bitter. "You've ruined this family enough. We were starting to get our lives back together when you showed up and made an even bigger mess. Just leave. No one wants you here anymore."
I gasped and ran back to my room. I opened a garment bag and threw in as many clothes as I could fit, some books, and some trinkets of mine: a pearl broach, a golden locket on a chain, my tiny diamond-and-pearl earrings I'd gotten just months before for my sweet sixteen birthday. I grabbed all my money from all my hiding places around my room, then tore my house key off from around my neck. I put it on my pillow. I changed into a gray traveling dress with black trim and a black hat, then shoved my nightgown into my bag as well. Then I turned and left the house as quickly as I could. I didn't say goodbye to anyone, but I was certain Grandfather watched me leave.
*
"What're ya doin' here?" The next morning, I woke up to Spot's voice. I tried to open my eyes but they refused for a while. Finally I managed to wipe the sleep from them and looked up at him, as I began stretching out the cramps that had come from sleeping on a stoop.
"I left my house." The statement was simple and at the end I let out a big yawn.
Spot smiled. "Ya came t' live with me?" he said, sounding surprised.
"I guess so," I answered, looking down at my boots. "You did mean what you said, right? That you'd never leave me?"
"A course I did," he answered, taking my hand. "Come on with me, I'll take ya t' the goils' boardin' house."
We walked down the street a bit, until we reached the right place. Spot led the way inside. The lady who ran it, Mrs. Higgins, smiled graciously at me. I paid for a week. Spot took me to the bunk room, and Mrs. Higgins came with us. She was a nice lady, with frizzy brown hair and a slight weight problem, but she held herself well and looked prettier than she probably should have. Still, when I looked at her, I felt a little pang for the clumsy old man I'd gotten to know at the Manhattan boys' boarding house: Kloppman.
"Hey, goils!" said Spot, after Mrs. Higgins had made sure all the girls still in the house were decent and had gone back downstairs. "This heah is Victoria. She'll be livin' heah, at least fer a while. I wants you goils t' take care a her for me."
"Of course, Spot," said a pretty girl. She had long red curly hair to her waist, and big green eyes. Her accent was mostly New York, but there was a touch of Irish in it as well. She, like Mrs. Higgins, was a bit on the big side, but she too pulled it off with grace. "I'm Fire. How are you, Lass?" I nodded and smiled a hello to her. She smiled back and looked back down to her knitting.
"I'm Stormy," said a girl of about thirteen, who had dark blue eyes and a scowl to match her name. She tossed her dark brown, shoulder-length hair from her face in annoyance.
"They call me Clementine," said a girl who looked seventeen or eighteen. She had blonde curls around her face, big light blue eyes, and a perfect smile. "I'se Saga's fiancée."
"You'll be meetin' Saga latah today," said Spot to me.
"An' I'se Judy," said the last girl, who had light brown hair halfway down her back, though the top parts were pulled back in a bun. She had an easy smile and light brown eyes. "I jus' came a few months ago, an' I don' have a newsie name yet." She was about sixteen, too. I liked her the best automatically.
"Wheah's a free bed, goils?" Spot asked.
"Heah, she can take dis one," Judy said, pointing at the one next to her. "Chile jus' moved out yestah-day."
I put my bag on the bed and smiled gratefully at Judy.
"We's bes' be goin'," Spot said suddenly. "I wants t' intra'duce 'er t' da boys."
"It was nice meeting all of you," I said, as Spot led me from the room. "I look forward to getting to know all of you."
As we walked towards the stairs, I heard Stormy say, "Didja heah da way she talked?"
"An' wha' about that outfit?" Clementine agreed. "I sweah, I've neveh seen anythin' so purty in me life!"
"Wha' is she, da bloody Princess a' England?" Stormy wondered. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
I met lots of Spot's Brooklyn friends that day, and grew steadily more and more unhappy. Saga, Clementine's fiancé, was definitely one of the most good-looking in the bunch, with straight dirty blond hair and dark brown eyes. I only made a mental note of him because of his connection to Clementine, and the rest of the guys' names floated in one of my ears and out the next. I began to wish I could see Crutchy with his sweet manners, Racetrack with his jokes, tender Boots, glum Skittery, obnoxiously self- centered Jack, quiet David, impressionable Les, Snipeshooter (even though he always annoyed me), and Kid Blink with his optimism. But most of all, I wished with all my heart I could be with sweet, funny, nice, caring, optimistic, fun, trustworthy Mush. I wanted to take away all the hurt that I'd caused him, and make him feel better. I wanted to kiss him, to have him hold me, and to just plain stop hurting.
But I knew I couldn't go back. He'd made that clear to me, that I'd hurt him beyond repair. That was the only reason I'd come to Brooklyn the night before, and the reason why I knew I'd never go to see Mush again. I'd messed up all of my chances with him. And there was nothing I could do to make it better.
Mush left as soon as he could, not speaking another word, no matter how much I begged him. Spot too left shortly after, but he promised to return as soon as he could. I ran up to my room where I resided for the whole of the afternoon and evening, crying and wondering where my life had gone wrong. When my tears had dried up, I started to read Shakespeare's Hamlet, which Grandfather had given me long before along with Romeo and Juliet. After I read the part about Ophelia's drowning, I cried some more, because I understood her: she'd lied to Hamlet because she thought she was helping him get better, and then in turn she'd gone crazy. I wondered if I would go crazy because Mush wasn't around me anymore.
Around nine-thirty that night, I was so thirsty that I decided to venture from my room. I remembered Pierre had made some fabulous lemonade the day before, and I went to sneak down the dark stairs, holding only my candle. As I passed by Mother and Father's room, I heard them talking quietly. I was about to move down the stairs when I heard my name. I pressed my ear to their door.
"…How can she just expect us to accept and forgive her?" Mother was saying. "She hurt us beyond belief, but all she can think about is herself!" She sounded very angry.
"Don't worry, Meredith," said my father. "We'll turn her back into the proper young lady she used to be. Philip Cartwright has been asking about her, and now that she's back home, we'll arrange their marriage."
I drew back from the door in shock. The flame flickered, and my heart skipped a beat, too. Philip Cartwright? I hated the boy. I always had, ever since I'd first met him when I was four years old.
I turned away, needing to get back from the door, and ran into Grandfather.
I hadn't seen him since that day when we'd all danced in the street, and he looked horrible. His eyes were even more so sunken in, his gray hair stood on end. His clothes were rumpled. I wondered why Grandmother hadn't made him change.
He glared at me with his dark, unfeeling eyes. "Leave this place, Victoria," he said, and his voice was bitter. "You've ruined this family enough. We were starting to get our lives back together when you showed up and made an even bigger mess. Just leave. No one wants you here anymore."
I gasped and ran back to my room. I opened a garment bag and threw in as many clothes as I could fit, some books, and some trinkets of mine: a pearl broach, a golden locket on a chain, my tiny diamond-and-pearl earrings I'd gotten just months before for my sweet sixteen birthday. I grabbed all my money from all my hiding places around my room, then tore my house key off from around my neck. I put it on my pillow. I changed into a gray traveling dress with black trim and a black hat, then shoved my nightgown into my bag as well. Then I turned and left the house as quickly as I could. I didn't say goodbye to anyone, but I was certain Grandfather watched me leave.
*
"What're ya doin' here?" The next morning, I woke up to Spot's voice. I tried to open my eyes but they refused for a while. Finally I managed to wipe the sleep from them and looked up at him, as I began stretching out the cramps that had come from sleeping on a stoop.
"I left my house." The statement was simple and at the end I let out a big yawn.
Spot smiled. "Ya came t' live with me?" he said, sounding surprised.
"I guess so," I answered, looking down at my boots. "You did mean what you said, right? That you'd never leave me?"
"A course I did," he answered, taking my hand. "Come on with me, I'll take ya t' the goils' boardin' house."
We walked down the street a bit, until we reached the right place. Spot led the way inside. The lady who ran it, Mrs. Higgins, smiled graciously at me. I paid for a week. Spot took me to the bunk room, and Mrs. Higgins came with us. She was a nice lady, with frizzy brown hair and a slight weight problem, but she held herself well and looked prettier than she probably should have. Still, when I looked at her, I felt a little pang for the clumsy old man I'd gotten to know at the Manhattan boys' boarding house: Kloppman.
"Hey, goils!" said Spot, after Mrs. Higgins had made sure all the girls still in the house were decent and had gone back downstairs. "This heah is Victoria. She'll be livin' heah, at least fer a while. I wants you goils t' take care a her for me."
"Of course, Spot," said a pretty girl. She had long red curly hair to her waist, and big green eyes. Her accent was mostly New York, but there was a touch of Irish in it as well. She, like Mrs. Higgins, was a bit on the big side, but she too pulled it off with grace. "I'm Fire. How are you, Lass?" I nodded and smiled a hello to her. She smiled back and looked back down to her knitting.
"I'm Stormy," said a girl of about thirteen, who had dark blue eyes and a scowl to match her name. She tossed her dark brown, shoulder-length hair from her face in annoyance.
"They call me Clementine," said a girl who looked seventeen or eighteen. She had blonde curls around her face, big light blue eyes, and a perfect smile. "I'se Saga's fiancée."
"You'll be meetin' Saga latah today," said Spot to me.
"An' I'se Judy," said the last girl, who had light brown hair halfway down her back, though the top parts were pulled back in a bun. She had an easy smile and light brown eyes. "I jus' came a few months ago, an' I don' have a newsie name yet." She was about sixteen, too. I liked her the best automatically.
"Wheah's a free bed, goils?" Spot asked.
"Heah, she can take dis one," Judy said, pointing at the one next to her. "Chile jus' moved out yestah-day."
I put my bag on the bed and smiled gratefully at Judy.
"We's bes' be goin'," Spot said suddenly. "I wants t' intra'duce 'er t' da boys."
"It was nice meeting all of you," I said, as Spot led me from the room. "I look forward to getting to know all of you."
As we walked towards the stairs, I heard Stormy say, "Didja heah da way she talked?"
"An' wha' about that outfit?" Clementine agreed. "I sweah, I've neveh seen anythin' so purty in me life!"
"Wha' is she, da bloody Princess a' England?" Stormy wondered. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
I met lots of Spot's Brooklyn friends that day, and grew steadily more and more unhappy. Saga, Clementine's fiancé, was definitely one of the most good-looking in the bunch, with straight dirty blond hair and dark brown eyes. I only made a mental note of him because of his connection to Clementine, and the rest of the guys' names floated in one of my ears and out the next. I began to wish I could see Crutchy with his sweet manners, Racetrack with his jokes, tender Boots, glum Skittery, obnoxiously self- centered Jack, quiet David, impressionable Les, Snipeshooter (even though he always annoyed me), and Kid Blink with his optimism. But most of all, I wished with all my heart I could be with sweet, funny, nice, caring, optimistic, fun, trustworthy Mush. I wanted to take away all the hurt that I'd caused him, and make him feel better. I wanted to kiss him, to have him hold me, and to just plain stop hurting.
But I knew I couldn't go back. He'd made that clear to me, that I'd hurt him beyond repair. That was the only reason I'd come to Brooklyn the night before, and the reason why I knew I'd never go to see Mush again. I'd messed up all of my chances with him. And there was nothing I could do to make it better.
