Righty:
"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Scientists discover polka dots encourage mental growth! Extra! Extra!" "Race, that's the stupidest headline I've ever heard you make up." "I know, I know. I think I've shouted at least half of all the possible headlines ever." I was slightly taken aback when Race sold three papes with that stupid headline. "I'm hungry!" I moaned. "Yeah, it's almost 2. Wanna go to Tibby's?" "Naw, I've eaten there every day this week. Let's go somewhere else. How's Little Italy sound?" "Actually, Itallian food would just hit the spot." We turned and started walking to Little Italy. It was a nice day, and the sun shone merrily down on our heads. The breeze played with my hair and rustled our unsold papes. "I knew it wouldn't last," Race declared. "We all know how Jack is: he picks up a nice-lookin' gal-" "If that's what you wanna call 'er," Race interjected. "Sticks around for a while, but gets bored by the third week. Impossible to tie down." "That Sarah, though. She's not the brightest. I wonder if she knows yet." "I don't think so. I saw her not two days ago, when I went to eat dinner with David and his family. She kept smiling and looking out her window, expecting him to be there." "Dear me, she's worse than I thought." Race shook his head in disbelief, and began chewing on the end of his unlit cigar. "Has the break up affected Jack's and David's relationship any?" "Naw. As a matter of fact, it's taken their friendship to a whole new level." Finally, we got to Little Italy. As soon as I stepped in the door, I was glad we came. For one, neither of us knew anyone in the place. Perfect. The smells of good cooking and fresh spices were very appealing to my empty stomach, and the company wasn't too bad, either. The paintings on the wall were a little bit weird, some of which were just thousands of little brush strokes and some of which had odd-looking people, with eyes for mouths and such, but some were just regular paintings of lakes and ducks and a portrait of a young girl. We sat down in a cozy little corner. The table cloth was white lace, with a little vase. The waiter, a tall, skinny Italian, took our orders speedily, and left Race and I to our conversation.
Later:
Back in the Bronx, as I lay on my cot in the darkness, I couldn't stop smiling. Race is an amazingly sweet boy and we'd had a wonderful time together. We had very deep and meaningful conversations, several of which would have made me blush...if I weren't above such things. I hate compliments. On the walk home he reached over and took my hand...though I was confused and unsure about what I should do about it, I let my hand stay there, resting safely in his.
Mara:
Things got rough around the second month. I had fallen dreadfully behind on my rent, and my landlord was no understanding soul. I had to do it. I couldn't live on the streets. It's not like I did it because I needed a pretty dress, or I wanted to eat at a nice restaurant. I needed to pay the rent. So I started stealing from Tibby's. The first time, I didn't feel so bad. I thought "Just this one time, to get me on my feet. Then I'll be just fine." However, after 3 or 4 weeks of regular stealing from my boss, I was almost glad when they caught me. I was fired from Tibby's. I had no where to go, and no source of income. I was stuck, and the fact that it was all my fault made me feel even worse.Where would I go? About that time, while I was wondering lost in the street, I see Mush standing on a street corner, selling papes. "Hey! Mara! What you doin' over here at this time of day? Shouldn't you be taking someone's order? Lousy foreigner." Though I knew Mush was only teasing, I couldn't smile at him. "What's wrong?" he asked me, suddenly concerned. "I...O God, Mush. I got fired today." "Fired?? That's unjust! Why??" "I...I don't want to say." After a dreadful pause, I give in to his silent protest. "Ok, ok, fine. I'd been stealing from the register. But to pay the rent, Mush! To pay the rent!" I hurredly finished. Then, more frantically, "But what can I do now? I have no where to stay and no money! What can a girl do?" Suddely, Mush looks up suddenly, as if he's just had an idea. "Come with me, Mara." "Why?" "I think I know a place where you can stay."
On the way:
Mush and I were having a good time, the walk passing quickly as we laughed and talked. He quickly made me forget the sadness of the morning, looking only toward the hopeful tomorrow. On the way, we ran into a friend of Mush's, a young boy named Race. "Race!" "Hey Mush. Where you going?" "To ask a favor of Righty. Mara needs a place to stay and some money. Race, Mara. Mara, this is Righty's unofficial boyfriend." "Watch it," he warned good-naturedly. "Pleasure," I tell him. "Will I like this Righty? What is she like?" "Well..." Race begins. "It's less will you like her, and more will she like you. Your life is hell if she wants it to be. Just don't get in her way." "A real tom-boy," Mush elaborates. "She can spit farther than I can." "O, my. How...interresting." I manage, trying not to make a face. "To sum it all up, she's not much for manners," Mush finishes. "Can't even pronounce the word 'feminin'."
"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Scientists discover polka dots encourage mental growth! Extra! Extra!" "Race, that's the stupidest headline I've ever heard you make up." "I know, I know. I think I've shouted at least half of all the possible headlines ever." I was slightly taken aback when Race sold three papes with that stupid headline. "I'm hungry!" I moaned. "Yeah, it's almost 2. Wanna go to Tibby's?" "Naw, I've eaten there every day this week. Let's go somewhere else. How's Little Italy sound?" "Actually, Itallian food would just hit the spot." We turned and started walking to Little Italy. It was a nice day, and the sun shone merrily down on our heads. The breeze played with my hair and rustled our unsold papes. "I knew it wouldn't last," Race declared. "We all know how Jack is: he picks up a nice-lookin' gal-" "If that's what you wanna call 'er," Race interjected. "Sticks around for a while, but gets bored by the third week. Impossible to tie down." "That Sarah, though. She's not the brightest. I wonder if she knows yet." "I don't think so. I saw her not two days ago, when I went to eat dinner with David and his family. She kept smiling and looking out her window, expecting him to be there." "Dear me, she's worse than I thought." Race shook his head in disbelief, and began chewing on the end of his unlit cigar. "Has the break up affected Jack's and David's relationship any?" "Naw. As a matter of fact, it's taken their friendship to a whole new level." Finally, we got to Little Italy. As soon as I stepped in the door, I was glad we came. For one, neither of us knew anyone in the place. Perfect. The smells of good cooking and fresh spices were very appealing to my empty stomach, and the company wasn't too bad, either. The paintings on the wall were a little bit weird, some of which were just thousands of little brush strokes and some of which had odd-looking people, with eyes for mouths and such, but some were just regular paintings of lakes and ducks and a portrait of a young girl. We sat down in a cozy little corner. The table cloth was white lace, with a little vase. The waiter, a tall, skinny Italian, took our orders speedily, and left Race and I to our conversation.
Later:
Back in the Bronx, as I lay on my cot in the darkness, I couldn't stop smiling. Race is an amazingly sweet boy and we'd had a wonderful time together. We had very deep and meaningful conversations, several of which would have made me blush...if I weren't above such things. I hate compliments. On the walk home he reached over and took my hand...though I was confused and unsure about what I should do about it, I let my hand stay there, resting safely in his.
Mara:
Things got rough around the second month. I had fallen dreadfully behind on my rent, and my landlord was no understanding soul. I had to do it. I couldn't live on the streets. It's not like I did it because I needed a pretty dress, or I wanted to eat at a nice restaurant. I needed to pay the rent. So I started stealing from Tibby's. The first time, I didn't feel so bad. I thought "Just this one time, to get me on my feet. Then I'll be just fine." However, after 3 or 4 weeks of regular stealing from my boss, I was almost glad when they caught me. I was fired from Tibby's. I had no where to go, and no source of income. I was stuck, and the fact that it was all my fault made me feel even worse.Where would I go? About that time, while I was wondering lost in the street, I see Mush standing on a street corner, selling papes. "Hey! Mara! What you doin' over here at this time of day? Shouldn't you be taking someone's order? Lousy foreigner." Though I knew Mush was only teasing, I couldn't smile at him. "What's wrong?" he asked me, suddenly concerned. "I...O God, Mush. I got fired today." "Fired?? That's unjust! Why??" "I...I don't want to say." After a dreadful pause, I give in to his silent protest. "Ok, ok, fine. I'd been stealing from the register. But to pay the rent, Mush! To pay the rent!" I hurredly finished. Then, more frantically, "But what can I do now? I have no where to stay and no money! What can a girl do?" Suddely, Mush looks up suddenly, as if he's just had an idea. "Come with me, Mara." "Why?" "I think I know a place where you can stay."
On the way:
Mush and I were having a good time, the walk passing quickly as we laughed and talked. He quickly made me forget the sadness of the morning, looking only toward the hopeful tomorrow. On the way, we ran into a friend of Mush's, a young boy named Race. "Race!" "Hey Mush. Where you going?" "To ask a favor of Righty. Mara needs a place to stay and some money. Race, Mara. Mara, this is Righty's unofficial boyfriend." "Watch it," he warned good-naturedly. "Pleasure," I tell him. "Will I like this Righty? What is she like?" "Well..." Race begins. "It's less will you like her, and more will she like you. Your life is hell if she wants it to be. Just don't get in her way." "A real tom-boy," Mush elaborates. "She can spit farther than I can." "O, my. How...interresting." I manage, trying not to make a face. "To sum it all up, she's not much for manners," Mush finishes. "Can't even pronounce the word 'feminin'."