The sunlight's tendrils grazed across the room, a coo of awakening. I stirred with a moan, stretching my limbs without penetrating the room with my vision until the soft bustling of others crossed my mind with confusion.
I didn't have to wait long before the puzzlement got deeper for squeals of terror ripped the air into halves; bolting myself upward in bed.
"Oww," I growled after my head hit the bottom of the top bunk. Bunks? The last time I recalled, I was in my own room, in my queen-size bed. Where the hell was I?
Groping to my feet, I slipped out from beneath the covers and strolled into the aisle where girls dressed in old, awkward attire swept back as if I carried some deadly disease.
'We'se never seen ya before," one girl chimed.
I ran one hand through my hair. "It's mutual."
"What's that mean?"
My gaze swerved upward to peer into their faces while I ignored that last question. "Where am I?"
One girl stepped forward. "Youse in Manhattan of coise."
What was I doing here? And more importantly, how did I get here? Everything was chaos. Logic couldn't even begin to breathe in my mind. I focused on their clothing.
"What do you do?" I figured was the appropriate question. It could just be a stage set for some movie.
Another girl stepped up beside the prior one, wrapping her arm across the other's shoulders with pride in her eyes. "Why, we'se tah newsies! Goil newsies of coise!"
I arched my brows. "No, really." The girls exchanged quizzical glances. Then, all of a sudden, an ox-of-a-woman pushed past the other girls. She bore freckles, her eyes set to chill.
"Youse different," she rumbled. "I'se don't like different. So maybe I'se be askin' tah questions."
Instantly I threw up my hands in harmless defense. "I didn't mean any harm. Ask away."
The oxen-girl crossed her bulky arms over her chest. "Wheah youse get those clothes?"
Instinctively I looked down upon myself in jeans and a tight shapeless shirt. Raising my gaze upward again, I shrugged. 'I've always had these."
"But youse in pants like one of tah boys." She cracked a toothy grin while some of the girls laughed. "An' youse talk funny too. All hoity-toity. What's youse tryin' tah pull?"
I smiled. "A passing grade in English. Or obviously I would have become like you."
The girl stepped threatening closer. "What's youse mean like me?" I shook my head humorously while thinking this one lacked some serious intelligence.
As I opened my mouth to speak, a woman's voice from downstairs bellowed through the building crying, "go sell yer pap's!" Everyone turned on a dime and split, barreling to get downstairs. I watched and one girl detached herself from the others to approach me.
"Youse must be really lost if youse don't know how youse got here and youse that different." She gestured toward the peak of the staircase. "Come wid me and I'se take youse tah see Jack. He'll know what tah do wid ya!'
I followed her, gathering my sanity around me, thus beginning what I'd yet to discover.
@---------------
Spot Conlon squeezed his fingers around his staff while he watched his boys with his regal body leaning against a wooden stake posted onto the dock. His radiant gaze encompassed their figures, yet his thoughts dwelled on something else. He was the most famous newsie in all of New York, which placed him in the position of obtaining any girl at will. Of course, he took advantage of the proposition greedily. One of the whores whom had thrown herself at his feet had been obsessing over him since he took her in for pleasure. In fact, last night she confessed her eternal love.
Spot smirked. What a foolish goil, he thought mockingly. I'se was right tah kiss one of tah ottah whores in fron' of her."
Feeling satisfied Spot nudged himself into an upright position, his head held high. He signaled to one of newsies who lifted himself up out of the water and approached his leader, dripping wet.
"I'se decide that we'se gonna have a party at Medda's tonight. I'se want youse to gather all tah newsies an' give 'em tah word."
Spot's newsie nodded his head obeyingly and strolled off to fulfill the orders. Confident with the plans, Spot scooped himself up onto one of the posts. He was elegant, handsome, regal, and in that instant allowed is charm to leak through his smile when he saw her. The girl bounded up to him with a grin. Her actions explained her undying emotions, and so she was giddy with the image of the Brooklyn prince.
Hello my ottah fuck, Spot thought harshly. Instead he spoke, "Heya April! How'se it goin'?" aloud.
April felt as if her knees would collapse with just the melody of his voice. She would do anything for him. Anything. And no one would get between them. No one, she promised with strict emphasis.
@---------------
The girl let me across the dirt-paved streets while I pondered the logic and merely ended up confusing myself worse than before. Thee people and lack of technology put me far back into the centuries. Though it was fascinating, I really needed to get some help.
"Here we'se are," she instructed while approaching a few steps that led into a emaciated building.
One of the male newsies rose up in front of us.
"Heya Race," the girl greeted, pausing in her footsteps. He returned the greeting and his eyes fixed on my figure.
"Well, well, who's we'se got here?" He focused on my outfit first. "I'se nevah
seen a goil dress like that before. But it woiks. It sures do woik." He whistled then to improve his compliment. I arched my brows at Race and decided it would be best not to say anything. You never knew how a guy would react.
"Oh shuttup, Race. Wheah's Jacky? I'se got to see him. It's impoitant!"
Race held up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay. Don't get too excited. Jacky-boy's inside. What do youse need him fer-?" But before we could return the answer, the girl dashed past him with me on her heels. Inside, there was a table with chairs where four guys were playing cards. The girl approached the man with the red bandanna and raven-colored cowboy hat.
When she bent over whispering in his ear, occasionally Jack's eyes flew to me while the others looked on with curiosity. After she finished, Jack stood and took my hand in his, raising it to his lips. "Hey, I'se Jack Kelly." His lips grazed my knuckles, his tone deepening with slight romance. "But my friends call me cowboy." He planted the kiss and graciously returned my hand back to me.
"I'm Kim. Do you think you can help me?" I didn't want to shed light onto his prior gesture, so I figured it would be best to ignore it.
Jack smiled and leaned against one side of the doorway frame. "Until youse get back tah wheah youse came from. I'se teach youse how tah live like a newsie but only if youse promise me on thing."
"What's that?"
"Stay away from Spot Conlon."
I furrowed my brows. "Who?"
"Tah Brooklyn leadah," the girl interjected.
My eyes flew back to Jack. "Well, it shouldn't be too hard." Jack stepped away from the entranceway, drawing his cowboy hat on top of his head and down over his eyes.
"So youse promise?"
I nodded. "I promise."
Satisfied, Jack smiled. "Good. Youse stick wid me an' tonight won't be a problem."
My gaze flickered to everyone in the room. "Why, what's going on tonight?" Their faces went blank to my prodding.
"We'se all goin' tah Medda's fer a party," Jack explained with enthusiasm. "But they might tear youse up if youse wear that."
I sighed, glancing down at my outfit. I'd been getting a lot of talk about it lately. "What's the alternative?"
Jack motioned at the girl in her ugly, old-looking dress. "Hers." I shook my head stubbornly to that idea, clearly against it.
"No offense, but no thanks. I'll take my chances."
"Okay, but we'se newsie boys only get tah see that much skin right before an' intimate event if youse know what I'se mean," he laughed, slapping his cowboy had off his head.
I was beginning to have doubts about my decision.
@---------------
To be continued…