Author's Note: I own nothing. In fact, I'm so broke I wear my little sister's socks half the time.

"Sign in, sign in, sign in," came the singsong of an old lady sitting on a rocking chair and knitting. "Sign in, sign in. Oh, Swede. You're home early today. I thought you were heading across town to the 75th Street newsies?"

"I was going to, Granny, but I ran into this girl." Swede said while busily scratching in a notebook.

"Oh, dearie. You look just tuckered out," the old lady clucked at me. I knew she was looking at my dirty face, half red half brown hair, and ragged, greasy skirt.

"Hush—" he began.

"You young whippersnapper, don't tell me to hush! I'm seventy-two years old and deserve more respect than that." Granny drew herself up to her full height and looked very stern.

"No, no. Granny that's what I call her. I've know her for about two hours and she only spoke one sentence."

"Oh, well then Hush dearie. Sign in please." Granny sat back down and continued knitting. "Your first two days are free but after that it'll be fifteen cents a night. One meal included."

I walked over to the sign in book and gestured for Swede to come next to me.

"What is it Hush? Something wrong?"

I shook my head no and carefully signed an X on the first empty line on the page. Then I handed the pen to him.

"Oh. You can't read? That's okay. We can teach you. We even got a guy upstairs who wanted to be a teacher before his old man kicked him out." Swede wrote some beside my X and headed into a hallway.

I shrugged and followed him. I guess I'll need to know how to read, after all I don't think I can be a birdie here.

Suddenly I heard the noise that had said home for years and looked up to see newsies fighting, gambling, smoking, and basically just being loud.

"Hey boys. Look what the cat dragged in!" From the corner of the room a boy with a face that just screamed LEADER stood up.

"Hey you, Whiskey! This here's Hush. Can she join up with us?" Swede pushed me toward the boy.

"Sure, we could use a girl, otherwise people'll say we're prejudiced. Why don't you take her over to Mac and get her set up with her stuff." Whiskey didn't sound very interested as he started cutting into a bunk with his pocketknife.

Swede started towards a boy with mud colored hair and glasses. "You'll need to tell him your name so we know if a cops after you, your next of kin and how old you are."

Quietly, I looked up at him and said "Look my name's my own business. No coppers are after me."

"Okay. If you say so." He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and turned to Mac; "This is Hush. She doesn't want people to know her name. Plus, could you teach her to read?"

Mac took out a notebook and pencil and suddenly looked very businesslike, "Can you tell me your next of kin please?"

"Might as well just put City of Boston for as long as I'm here." I looked down. I guess I could have said Spot or The Traveler but they might know them. They're so much in love, I don't even think they'll have noticed that I was missing if I hadn't told The Traveler I was leaving.

"Okay. ' Bout 92 percent of newsies are like that, ya know," he said seriously. "Now how old are ya?"

"I guess I'm about sixteen. Almost seventeen."

"All right, that's all I need to know."

I nodded and started to turn away when he said, "Whenever you want to read, that's fine with me. Just come find me."

These newsies were probably the friendliest I had come across lately. Definitely friendlier than Brooklyn is to new newsies. Whiskey hadn't beat me up or anything yet.

I lay on the empty bunk Swede had told was mine and drifted off to sleep.