Sitting next to her on the "couch", Jack felt a bit awkward due to the
falling tears that flowed nonstop down the girl's face as she continued her
story. He wanted to comfort her somehow; unsure in what manner to do so.
Comforting Sarah in her many times of need had come easy for him, but
Emerson was different. The inner strength she radiated told him she did
not want him to feel sorry for her, to pity her in any way, yet his want
deepened by his knowledge.
Knowing she endured many confusing and frightening events over the past few days added in his need and want to comfort. Struggling internally over what move, if any, to make, Jack found himself bewildered having never questioned what to do for the emotionally weak Sarah. Emerson seeming to read his thoughts, briefly forgot where she was, who she was with, buried her face into his shoulder. In natural reaction, Jack slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, stroking her hair in a consoling gesture.
Feeling his arm around her, his hand on her hair caused a warm and secure feeling to fall over her. For the first time in days she felt safe, but knew her behavior inappropriate. Realizing what she had done, Emerson quickly sat up pulling herself away apologizing. "I am sorry, that was terribly improper of me." Sitting upright, she wiped away the tears accepting a handkerchief Jack offered to her. She dabbed her cheeks, throat and chest drying the tiny pools of sorrow.
"Emerson, please don't be sorry. Ya been through a lot and they say crying is good for the soul."
"They? Just who are the "they" you speak of?" She asked him teasing slightly, not expecting an answer.
Jack knew she was joking with him, but was going to prove a point, to show he knew just what she thought he did not. True, he had not had a fancy or even a formal education since moving into the lodging house, gaining schooling by reading everything in sight. "You know, doctors, like Jung and Freud."
Startled, Emerson gazed at him carefully for a few seconds studying his face. The look was very intent, jaw line soft, but firmly set showing he spoke of something he knew ready to defend the knowledge.
"Yes, I do know, but."
Before she could finish he interjected finishing for her. "How could I know? Look, I know I haven't had no fancy education like you, but I can read."
Seeing the hurt look in his eyes, Emerson felt horrible. John never looked down his nose at anyone and instilled this trait in her as well. "I owe you an apology. My father taught me never to judge others as unfairly as I have judged you. He would be ashamed of me now."
"It's okay, I'm used to it, most people look down on us. What are we to others anyway? We are like the iron bar by the door used to scrape mud and animal waste off their boots."
"It is not okay. My father never looked down on any of you here; he knew how hard you worked to make less than the pocket change carried by men who hardly work at all. He even thought a few of them should try it for a while to see how easy their own lives are. As for those who think so poorly of you, they do not know you; do not know what you have endured, what you have in your hearts, in your minds, in your souls that make you who you are. If they could see into you as I have, they would see wisdom beyond any of their college educations, loyalty for your friends most of them do not have for their own families and ambition they would almost kill for."
"You know that time when the two of you came here during the strike, I wasn't sure what to make of him, your father, I mean. Not too many people go out of the way to help the working boys of New York and most of the others who have do it to further their own career. At first I wondered if he was here out of pity, but I know for sure, having met you again that wasn't his intent. After he listened to the stories, laughed along and asked all those questions, I knew it was more than that."
"My father hated pity, giving and receiving, but would help anyone in anyway he could. He felt, how should I say, empathy for you. His own beginnings were not very grand. Father tried to instill all his goodwill in me, but I am afraid I will never be all that he wanted."
"Hey, don't sell yourself short. I think given the chance you will prove yourself to be all that and more."
Without any knowledge to what he had done, Jack gave Emerson all the comfort he wanted so badly to give to her earlier. The reassurance that she might be able to make her father proud was just what she needed.
"Thank you, um, I am sorry, you know, I do not even know your name. I remember, I think, the boys calling you Cowboy, but somehow I think there might be more."
"Indeed, the name's Kelly, Jack Kelly."
"Jack, I fear my plan to hide out here at the lodging house may have more than a few holes in it."
"Yes, I think it might. So, I'll ask you to trust me."
"Trust you? Why would I need to trust you?"
"You need to trust me if I'm going to help you."
"But I cannot ask you to."
"You are not asking, fair enough? Just as we did not ask your family for help, I am offering it to you."
"Jack, really, you do not need to feel obligated to help me."
"I don't, if I didn't want to help you, I wouldn't, but I do so I'm going to."
Emerson opened her lips to further protest as Jack placed two fingers on them to stop the words.
"First thing we gotta do is take you to see Medda."
"Medda? You know Medda?"
"She was a friend of my fathers."
"Funny, she was my father's friend as well. I remember sitting in the audience with my parents a few times, my mother slightly jealous never knowing how he had known her, afraid to ask, to learn." Emerson paused remembering her parents once again.
"One of the guys and I went to Irving Hall today to sell and talked to her. Medda and your father were neighbors when they were children. He was like a brother to her and nothing more, I promise you. She is very worried about you, that you might be hurt or in trouble."
"I am afraid I cannot go out, what if someone recognizes me?"
"I didn't recognize you and I saw your picture in the papes a few days ago. Hell, I thought you were Sarah."
"So, that is what you said, who is Sarah?"
"Sarah is my girlfriend, er, she was my girlfriend. She left a week ago to go live upstate."
Emerson seeing pain flash once again into his eyes decided to hold further questions. Maybe she would be able to do something to aid Jack as he helped her.
I'm back, I'm back!!!! Sorry for the delay in the update, but things, life, job, family, holidays, health issues, well, you know stuff, kept me away for awhile. Thank you once again for the reviews. Hope you enjoy this chapter and that it does not give off an air of Mary Sueism. I am most likely not going where you think I am..more to come soon, I hope
Knowing she endured many confusing and frightening events over the past few days added in his need and want to comfort. Struggling internally over what move, if any, to make, Jack found himself bewildered having never questioned what to do for the emotionally weak Sarah. Emerson seeming to read his thoughts, briefly forgot where she was, who she was with, buried her face into his shoulder. In natural reaction, Jack slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, stroking her hair in a consoling gesture.
Feeling his arm around her, his hand on her hair caused a warm and secure feeling to fall over her. For the first time in days she felt safe, but knew her behavior inappropriate. Realizing what she had done, Emerson quickly sat up pulling herself away apologizing. "I am sorry, that was terribly improper of me." Sitting upright, she wiped away the tears accepting a handkerchief Jack offered to her. She dabbed her cheeks, throat and chest drying the tiny pools of sorrow.
"Emerson, please don't be sorry. Ya been through a lot and they say crying is good for the soul."
"They? Just who are the "they" you speak of?" She asked him teasing slightly, not expecting an answer.
Jack knew she was joking with him, but was going to prove a point, to show he knew just what she thought he did not. True, he had not had a fancy or even a formal education since moving into the lodging house, gaining schooling by reading everything in sight. "You know, doctors, like Jung and Freud."
Startled, Emerson gazed at him carefully for a few seconds studying his face. The look was very intent, jaw line soft, but firmly set showing he spoke of something he knew ready to defend the knowledge.
"Yes, I do know, but."
Before she could finish he interjected finishing for her. "How could I know? Look, I know I haven't had no fancy education like you, but I can read."
Seeing the hurt look in his eyes, Emerson felt horrible. John never looked down his nose at anyone and instilled this trait in her as well. "I owe you an apology. My father taught me never to judge others as unfairly as I have judged you. He would be ashamed of me now."
"It's okay, I'm used to it, most people look down on us. What are we to others anyway? We are like the iron bar by the door used to scrape mud and animal waste off their boots."
"It is not okay. My father never looked down on any of you here; he knew how hard you worked to make less than the pocket change carried by men who hardly work at all. He even thought a few of them should try it for a while to see how easy their own lives are. As for those who think so poorly of you, they do not know you; do not know what you have endured, what you have in your hearts, in your minds, in your souls that make you who you are. If they could see into you as I have, they would see wisdom beyond any of their college educations, loyalty for your friends most of them do not have for their own families and ambition they would almost kill for."
"You know that time when the two of you came here during the strike, I wasn't sure what to make of him, your father, I mean. Not too many people go out of the way to help the working boys of New York and most of the others who have do it to further their own career. At first I wondered if he was here out of pity, but I know for sure, having met you again that wasn't his intent. After he listened to the stories, laughed along and asked all those questions, I knew it was more than that."
"My father hated pity, giving and receiving, but would help anyone in anyway he could. He felt, how should I say, empathy for you. His own beginnings were not very grand. Father tried to instill all his goodwill in me, but I am afraid I will never be all that he wanted."
"Hey, don't sell yourself short. I think given the chance you will prove yourself to be all that and more."
Without any knowledge to what he had done, Jack gave Emerson all the comfort he wanted so badly to give to her earlier. The reassurance that she might be able to make her father proud was just what she needed.
"Thank you, um, I am sorry, you know, I do not even know your name. I remember, I think, the boys calling you Cowboy, but somehow I think there might be more."
"Indeed, the name's Kelly, Jack Kelly."
"Jack, I fear my plan to hide out here at the lodging house may have more than a few holes in it."
"Yes, I think it might. So, I'll ask you to trust me."
"Trust you? Why would I need to trust you?"
"You need to trust me if I'm going to help you."
"But I cannot ask you to."
"You are not asking, fair enough? Just as we did not ask your family for help, I am offering it to you."
"Jack, really, you do not need to feel obligated to help me."
"I don't, if I didn't want to help you, I wouldn't, but I do so I'm going to."
Emerson opened her lips to further protest as Jack placed two fingers on them to stop the words.
"First thing we gotta do is take you to see Medda."
"Medda? You know Medda?"
"She was a friend of my fathers."
"Funny, she was my father's friend as well. I remember sitting in the audience with my parents a few times, my mother slightly jealous never knowing how he had known her, afraid to ask, to learn." Emerson paused remembering her parents once again.
"One of the guys and I went to Irving Hall today to sell and talked to her. Medda and your father were neighbors when they were children. He was like a brother to her and nothing more, I promise you. She is very worried about you, that you might be hurt or in trouble."
"I am afraid I cannot go out, what if someone recognizes me?"
"I didn't recognize you and I saw your picture in the papes a few days ago. Hell, I thought you were Sarah."
"So, that is what you said, who is Sarah?"
"Sarah is my girlfriend, er, she was my girlfriend. She left a week ago to go live upstate."
Emerson seeing pain flash once again into his eyes decided to hold further questions. Maybe she would be able to do something to aid Jack as he helped her.
I'm back, I'm back!!!! Sorry for the delay in the update, but things, life, job, family, holidays, health issues, well, you know stuff, kept me away for awhile. Thank you once again for the reviews. Hope you enjoy this chapter and that it does not give off an air of Mary Sueism. I am most likely not going where you think I am..more to come soon, I hope