In the early summer of 1900, I, Audey Bicve, took a trip to Manhattan, New York, to stay with my aunt Emma Lee Abbott and her daughter, Annabelle Lee. They had recently lost a father/husband, my uncle Jimmy. My parents had asked me if I'd like to make the move from Chicago, Illinois to New York to lend my relatives a helping hand until they got back on their feet. I was 15 years old and leapt at the opportunity. I didn't realize all the changes I'd have to make.

Just about the only thing in my life that didn't change were my hair and my accent. Being of Italian decent, I had dark brown/blondeish hair atop my slim 5'6 body. Although, I was by no means skinny. I was proud of my muscular arms and strong body. I guess it was my three brothers who gave me my looks. At the same time, they were te reason I jumped at the chance to go live with two girls. Alas, I never did pick up the "New Yawka" way of speaking.

I arrived in Manhattan at my new home, an apartment. I was used to a big mid-western townhouse, and I fully expected to switch to and equally sized eastern townhouse that I'd visited a few times on summer vacations. Annabelle quickly informed me that they'd had to downsize since her father had been the main source of their income. Quickly I realized how much they needed me. My parents sent money once a month to pay for my expenses. After all, they'd sent me to help the Abbott's, not to burden them.

At first, my job was basically to be a housemaid. I cooked, cleaned, did laundry, and I shopped. Whether it was for food or clothes, or other necessities, I went to buy it. Aunt Emma and Anna both worked in a factory. It sounds worst than it was. They were a well-off family when uncle Jimmy was alive so they had more than enough savings that they probably didn't have to start working for a good six years. That didn't include the money they'd gotten from their house and many of uncle Jimmy's items that they'd sold. (Despite all they'd sold, uncle Jimmy was still well represented in the apartment by all the things they'd kept.)

My first venture out into the city was about a week and a half after I'd arrived. Annabelle accompanied me so I wouldn't get lost. I'd have to say that that was when it all started. As she was showing me around that hot summer morning, I noticed numerous kids of all ages out and about selling newpapers, or what they called "papes". The majority of them were around Annabelle's and my age. I asked Annabelle about them. She informed me that they were mostly orphans and runaways. The "newsies" sold papers to make a living. She said she knew a few of them. I thought about how their life was compared to how I was used to living. At that moment, I decided I would buy a pape before the day's end. I could afford to help support a newsboy.

It was getting later in the day, around four pm, when Anna and I made our last stop. We had to buy fresh fruit and head home. As we stood no the sidewalk waiting for our fruit to be bagged, I heard a boys voice. "Whew! I t'ink ise in Heaven!" My eyes turned to slits as I slyly took a quick glance behind me to my right. I saw four newsies looking our way. I repositioned myself to get a better view.

I was right. There were four boys gawking at Annabelle and me. The first one had a heavy New York accent. He had wavy black hair and was the shortest of the bunch. The second was a skinny cripple with a crutch and a high voice. He was definitely the tallest. His read hair was in wild curls. An eye patch protected the left eye of the third blonde boy. The last boy was the one who had the most of my attention. His brown hair was just as curly as the cripple's. His dimples were constantly dancing on his smiling face. He looked the toughest of the group, with broad shoulders and a thick neck, but his curls and smile made him look sweet like a four year old. I recognized his voice to be the one claiming to be in Heaven.

"Anna, say Anna. Do you know any of those boys over there?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, I knows t'ree of 'em. Da crips name is Crutchy. Den, Kid Blink is da one in da middle, wid da eye patch. I dunno who da one on da end, wid black 'air is. Mush is da smilin' boy."

"What do you know about Mush?" I wanted to know.

"Mush, well, 'es bad news. Da foist t'ing ya godda know 'bout 'im' is dat 'es a chaumah," Anna replied.

"A charmer?" I was confused as to what this meant.

"Yeah, ya know, a ladies man. 'E see's a lodda goils."

I thought about that for a moment while I fondled the change in my hand. It then dawned on me that I'd never bought my pape. "Here it goes," I thought, as I casually strolled across the street. "I'd like one paper please," directing my request towards Mush. The boys removed their hats for me.

"Heah ya go Miss. Dat'll be one penny," Mush said as he took a pape from under his arm.

"Sorry, all I have is a dime," I teased. "You know what, keep the change."

"Nah, dat's ok. I got awl dese coins. I'll give ya yer change," insisted Mush as he pulled out his grouch bag.

"Really, it's fine, keep it."

"Ise can't do dat," he said.

"Why is that?"

"Cuz den I'll owe ya."

"So owe me."

"At least lemme cheat ya ta dinnah?" Mush half asked.

I was taken aback by this sudden invitation. This Mush sure does like to have his way with girls. I motioned for him to wait a minute. I returned to where Annabelle was standing, fruit in hand. We argued for a bit. She didn't feel right leaving me in a strange city in the early evening with a boy I'd just met. She especially didn't seem to want to leave me with Mush.

"I dunno, ise godda bad feelin' 'bout dis. Dun get involved. 'E'll break ya heaut. Ise seen it b'fore," she worried.

"Come on, he owes me. Besides, he's a newsie. He knows this city front and back. He'll get me back safe and sound. It's pure business, got nothin' to do with hearts."

"Nuddin' ta do wid heauts, huh? Ah, jus' go, but be back b'fore seven," Annabelle decided.

I assured her that I would, then made my way back over to Mush.

"So, ya evah been ta Tibby's?" Mush wanted to know.

"No, who's Tibby?" I answered back.

Mush explained, "Tibby owns a rest'raunt called Tibby's. Ya prolly seen it b'fore."

"Actually, I bet I haven't. I'm from Chicago, and I've only been in Manhattan a little over a week. This is my first outing."

"Yer foist oudding?! Well den, lemme show ya da ropes..." and with that Mush took me on a stroll through New York.

He showed me all the fine places, and our tour ended with Tibby's. The meal was cheap but good. I made a note to myself that I should eat there more often. The conversation was mostly chitchat and flattery for me. It ended all too soon when it neared seven pm.

Outside my temporary home, Mush softly told me what a pleasure my company way. "Ya know, yer a sweet goil, Audey. I 'ope ya 'ave a good night." He put his hands on my waist as he said that. "Maybe I'll see ya 'round sometime, ah?" and he leaned in for a goodnight kiss.

Suddenly, I felt used. He was going to get the kiss he'd been working up to all night, then dump me like yesterdays laundry. "No way!" I thought. With that, I turned my face and accepted warm, tender lips on my left cheek. "Good night," I said as I turned to walk inside.

Mush couldn't believe it. A girl had actually turned a cheek on him! No way was he gonna let her slip away. "Say, uh, can ise see ya again?" he cried after me. "How's bout tamarrah? I'll meetcha at Tibby's at noon."

I thought it over. I liked Mush and all, but an odd feeling lingered. Should I waste my time with this guy? I thought that I'd go tomorrow and go from there. I gave Mush my positive reply and went inside.

"So, didja fine out 'es a joik?" Anna snooped.

"No, he wasn't a jerk. He was a fine gentleman, and I'm seeing him again tomorrow."

"Tamarrah?! Ya mean ya got 'im ta stay fer moah den one day?" exclaimed Anna.

"Sure I did. Why wouldn't I? He gave me a kiss on my cheek and asked if he could see me again."

"Whoa. Ise... ise... ise neveh hoid a 'im doin' dat b'fore."

"Well, I guess it's partly me. I took your warning to heart. I'll be careful with Mush. Mush...? What's his real name? And where's his family?" I insisted on knowing.

Annabelle's astounded face turned to sorrow almost immediately. "Ya dun wanna know." She paused, seeing my pleading face, and began the story anyway.

"'Is real name is Dean Portman. 'E's fum a rural area, prob'ly somewhere's 'round yer home. 'E 'ad a faudda 'n mudda 'n six sista's. Some was oldeh 'n some was youngeh. Dey was good Catholics. Dean's faudda was big 'n gruff. Dat's why Dean's got such broad shouldahs. 'E knows howda act wid goils cuz 'e grew up wid 'em. When Mush was six years old, 'e went inta town wid one a 'his sistas, fer dey lived on a faum. Dey 'adta stay ovahnight in town. De next day dey got 'ome and discovahd dat dere house burned durin' da night wid da fam'ly inside." She trembled slightly when she breathed to continue. I, myslef, shed one single tear down the cheek Mush's own lips had caressed not ten minutes ago. "Peoples came 'n split Mush 'n 'is sistah up. 'E ran away fum an o'ph'nige. Next t'ing ya know, 'es heah, sellin' papes," she finished.

I went to bed that night and said a prayer for Mush. He deserved it.