David positioned himself on the bottom ledge of the bridge, his back
pressed up against the metal truss, and the metal rope hanging diagonally
in front of him. He leaned down to try to reach the girl's hand and felt
the suspenders tighten around him. He'd reached the end of their length.
She was slipping. He had to make his move now.
Reaching out as far as his restraints would allow him without losing his footing, he grabbed for her hand. He missed and his right foot slid in the dust, so he grabbed the metal rope to gather his composure. He took a deep breath.
"help…." Her cry was weakening. David imagined her grip was too.
One more try. Make this one count, he thought to himself. He leaned down again, threw his whole body downward, hoping to God that the suspenders didn't just break, and grasped her sweaty hand. Success! Her grip tightened on his, and using strength he didn't know he even had, he pulled her as far as he could up to the ledge, then swung his left arm around her waist, and pulled her into him.
There they clung to one another; David leaning against the side of the bridge, and the girl grasping tightly to him balancing her legs and skirts around his and her face sobbing into his shoulder.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mush didn't like the idea of teaming up with Spot and this gang, but the benefits Timmy had offered were really hard to turn down. Not only could they publicly embarrass the count, he could be imprisoned for fiddling with the stock market. And if Timmy could get Spot off his back, then Mush actually had a chance to win the boxing championships. Things could really work out in his favor.
The way Mush saw it, he really had to accept this offer. It was a well- known fact that turning down the Mannigan family for a "favor" could mean bad things to come.
He spent the morning selling papers to make up for Race, wherever he was, and the afternoon beating the crap out of the hanging sandbag in the alley. He was supposed to meet up with Spot later that night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sadie was actually surprised at how easy it was to find Spot. He was exactly where she met him, having afternoon drinks with his buddies in that glum pub.
She had been practicing what she would say to him the whole way there, but the minute she saw him, she got nervous. It was something about those clear blue eyes that stopped her in her tracks every time. She flashed back to when he caught her following him in the alley, and how close they were…
"Looky hea. If it ain't Timmy's new charity case." Spot said when he saw her. He stood up at his table. "Git up boys. Dontcha see who it is? It's Saaadie, de po' giorl who cain't take care a herself. Gotta 'ave a man stand up fer 'er." He walked around her, looking at her like she was some animal at the zoo. He suddenly stopped in front of her and grabbed her hand, "How kin I be a service to ya madam Sadie?"
As if she wasn't already intimidated, she didn't expect this kind of unwelcome greeting. Sadie stumbled over her words. "Ah wanted to talk to you. I was… hoping… alone…"
"Alone? Why alone? Me boys won't tell nobody." He turned to the table of his friends, "Right boys?"
"Right!" Sergio blurted.
Spot smirked. "Go on," he baited her.
Sadie's Scotch-Irish temper was starting to boil over. She took a deep breath. "I would rather not. Maybe you are right, I should skip talking to you and go straight to Timmy."
This got Spot's attention, but something about this girl made him not know when to quit. He enjoyed egging her on. He wanted a confrontation with her, without Timmy or Mush butting in. "Dat how dey do it in yer country? Cain't stand up fer yerself?"
Sadie turned to leave before she let her true feelings show. She wanted to claw his face off. But instead, she stopped, walked right back up to him, and backhanded him across his face.
Spot flinched, stunned. His friends were in a sudden uproar of laughter and cheers. Spot could not hit her back, not in front of his "friends" anyway. They would certainly tell Timmy and Spot couldn't afford that. So, he grabbed her by her skinny wrist and pulled her through a door at the back of the bar and up a narrow case of stairs.
Sadie dragged her feet, she didn't know where he was pulling her, but she knew she probably didn't want to be alone with him. He was strong though, and dragged her down a dark hallway and into a room cluttered with boxes. She remembered the last time, when he pulled a knife on her, and hoped this wouldn't be a repeat.
Spot threw her up against the boxes. One fell off the top of the pile and crashed on the floor. Sadie drew in her breath sharply. He grabbed her by the collar of her white blouse, "You'se one lucky trick." It seemed like there was more he wanted to say, but something stopped him.
Sadie was frozen. Her thick curly hair was in her face, but she was too afraid to move her free hand to fix it. Spot didn't move either, he gripped her wrist until she felt the pin-prick sensation that meant her blood wasn't circulating.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Race nearly drifted off on the front steps of the boarding house, when he was stirred by a distantly familiar voice. "Racetrack Higgins? Is that really you?" Race rubbed his eyes and tried to focus. Standing in front of him was Davy, from the strike days, and he was supporting a weather beaten Ophelia.
Race snapped awake. "Davy? Opie?" The confusion was apparent on his face.
David started, "Oh, you two know each other? Ophelia and I had quite a morning." He had his arm around her, and was most likely holding her up altogether from the looks of it. Opie just nodded guiltily.
"What happened?" Race couldn't take the small talk at a time like this. Davy was always so middle-class.
"Maybe we should get Ophelia inside first…"
"Ya might 'ave some trouble wit' that. The house mother ain't so happy wit' Opie right now."
"I'll discuss it with her. Ophelia needs some sleep."
Race turned to Ophelia, "Ya okay little goirl?"
He meant it as a term of endearment, she smiled and whispered a faint "Yes."
David and Race helped her inside, and the lady of the house took over from there. They weren't allowed upstairs. David convinced the landlady to discuss Ophelia's rent after she woke up.
David and Race stepped outside. It was a cloudy, humid, summer day. "Looks like a storm's coming in," David commented.
"Sometin's gonna happen," Race agreed. "So tell me Davy-boy, what exactly happened wit' Opie?"
Reaching out as far as his restraints would allow him without losing his footing, he grabbed for her hand. He missed and his right foot slid in the dust, so he grabbed the metal rope to gather his composure. He took a deep breath.
"help…." Her cry was weakening. David imagined her grip was too.
One more try. Make this one count, he thought to himself. He leaned down again, threw his whole body downward, hoping to God that the suspenders didn't just break, and grasped her sweaty hand. Success! Her grip tightened on his, and using strength he didn't know he even had, he pulled her as far as he could up to the ledge, then swung his left arm around her waist, and pulled her into him.
There they clung to one another; David leaning against the side of the bridge, and the girl grasping tightly to him balancing her legs and skirts around his and her face sobbing into his shoulder.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mush didn't like the idea of teaming up with Spot and this gang, but the benefits Timmy had offered were really hard to turn down. Not only could they publicly embarrass the count, he could be imprisoned for fiddling with the stock market. And if Timmy could get Spot off his back, then Mush actually had a chance to win the boxing championships. Things could really work out in his favor.
The way Mush saw it, he really had to accept this offer. It was a well- known fact that turning down the Mannigan family for a "favor" could mean bad things to come.
He spent the morning selling papers to make up for Race, wherever he was, and the afternoon beating the crap out of the hanging sandbag in the alley. He was supposed to meet up with Spot later that night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sadie was actually surprised at how easy it was to find Spot. He was exactly where she met him, having afternoon drinks with his buddies in that glum pub.
She had been practicing what she would say to him the whole way there, but the minute she saw him, she got nervous. It was something about those clear blue eyes that stopped her in her tracks every time. She flashed back to when he caught her following him in the alley, and how close they were…
"Looky hea. If it ain't Timmy's new charity case." Spot said when he saw her. He stood up at his table. "Git up boys. Dontcha see who it is? It's Saaadie, de po' giorl who cain't take care a herself. Gotta 'ave a man stand up fer 'er." He walked around her, looking at her like she was some animal at the zoo. He suddenly stopped in front of her and grabbed her hand, "How kin I be a service to ya madam Sadie?"
As if she wasn't already intimidated, she didn't expect this kind of unwelcome greeting. Sadie stumbled over her words. "Ah wanted to talk to you. I was… hoping… alone…"
"Alone? Why alone? Me boys won't tell nobody." He turned to the table of his friends, "Right boys?"
"Right!" Sergio blurted.
Spot smirked. "Go on," he baited her.
Sadie's Scotch-Irish temper was starting to boil over. She took a deep breath. "I would rather not. Maybe you are right, I should skip talking to you and go straight to Timmy."
This got Spot's attention, but something about this girl made him not know when to quit. He enjoyed egging her on. He wanted a confrontation with her, without Timmy or Mush butting in. "Dat how dey do it in yer country? Cain't stand up fer yerself?"
Sadie turned to leave before she let her true feelings show. She wanted to claw his face off. But instead, she stopped, walked right back up to him, and backhanded him across his face.
Spot flinched, stunned. His friends were in a sudden uproar of laughter and cheers. Spot could not hit her back, not in front of his "friends" anyway. They would certainly tell Timmy and Spot couldn't afford that. So, he grabbed her by her skinny wrist and pulled her through a door at the back of the bar and up a narrow case of stairs.
Sadie dragged her feet, she didn't know where he was pulling her, but she knew she probably didn't want to be alone with him. He was strong though, and dragged her down a dark hallway and into a room cluttered with boxes. She remembered the last time, when he pulled a knife on her, and hoped this wouldn't be a repeat.
Spot threw her up against the boxes. One fell off the top of the pile and crashed on the floor. Sadie drew in her breath sharply. He grabbed her by the collar of her white blouse, "You'se one lucky trick." It seemed like there was more he wanted to say, but something stopped him.
Sadie was frozen. Her thick curly hair was in her face, but she was too afraid to move her free hand to fix it. Spot didn't move either, he gripped her wrist until she felt the pin-prick sensation that meant her blood wasn't circulating.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Race nearly drifted off on the front steps of the boarding house, when he was stirred by a distantly familiar voice. "Racetrack Higgins? Is that really you?" Race rubbed his eyes and tried to focus. Standing in front of him was Davy, from the strike days, and he was supporting a weather beaten Ophelia.
Race snapped awake. "Davy? Opie?" The confusion was apparent on his face.
David started, "Oh, you two know each other? Ophelia and I had quite a morning." He had his arm around her, and was most likely holding her up altogether from the looks of it. Opie just nodded guiltily.
"What happened?" Race couldn't take the small talk at a time like this. Davy was always so middle-class.
"Maybe we should get Ophelia inside first…"
"Ya might 'ave some trouble wit' that. The house mother ain't so happy wit' Opie right now."
"I'll discuss it with her. Ophelia needs some sleep."
Race turned to Ophelia, "Ya okay little goirl?"
He meant it as a term of endearment, she smiled and whispered a faint "Yes."
David and Race helped her inside, and the lady of the house took over from there. They weren't allowed upstairs. David convinced the landlady to discuss Ophelia's rent after she woke up.
David and Race stepped outside. It was a cloudy, humid, summer day. "Looks like a storm's coming in," David commented.
"Sometin's gonna happen," Race agreed. "So tell me Davy-boy, what exactly happened wit' Opie?"