Author's Note—Sorry it's so long between each update. I know it is no excuse but my school's one-act play competition is coming up, plus finals! In this chapter I've got a * by a menu item. See the end to find out why! Oooh, a mystery.
Disclaimer: Does anyone out there really think that I own Newsies? I mean, come on, really.
My fingers shook as I tried to light my cigarette. I'd made three and a half-hours of sleep tonight. There's got to be some way to calm down. It's not like my life is that bad. But then again, winter's coming and I've got nothing.
Suddenly I heard someone coming. I smoothly leapt behind a trash bin by the steps and waited for the person to come out.
"Hush. I know you're out here." Mac's voice surprisingly came out of the boy. I'd half expected Swede, as he was the only one I'd ever really addressed a sentence to.
I slowly stood up and went forward closer to him. Who knew what a Boston newsie had in his mind? They certainly thought differently than Brooklyn newsies.
"I thought maybe I'd teach you how to read. Or start at least." Mac showed me that he had a slim book and slate in his hands.
I nodded, and sat in the light coming from the inside of the Lodging House. I'd never really needed to know before, but you can't expect me to get by on my waif-like looks much longer.
"A, B, C…" The rest of the night went by rather quickly as I tried to memorize the shapes of the alphabet.
"Ey, Hush! Time to get going! Poker game's this weekend and no one sells then! We gotta get some cash! You play poker, right?"
"A little," I said shortly. It was still worrying me that Racetrack could recognize me.
"I love poker. But I'm really not very good at it. And you should see that Racetrack kid I was telling you about. He's the best there ever was." Swede was trying to jump a wall in the back alley as a short cut to the distribution center.
I shook my head, hiked up my skirt, and leaped until I could grab the top of the wall and pull myself over. I'm getting soft, I know I am. I can feel myself losing some of my skills daily. The Boston bulls just aren't as harsh.
"Hey Hush! Do you want dinner today?" Swede asked as he was counting his pocketful of coins. He blushed and added, "It's on me."
I thought for a second. I don't really know what I think of Swede paying for my food, but I didn't like to pass up free eats.
Finally I nodded and decided that I'd get the cheapest thing on the menu.
After we sat down at the 19th Street Diner we ordered. I ended up with the roast beef sandwich with extra gravy and Swede got the most expensive thing on the menu, roast chicken with all the trimmings*.
"Hush, I think we sell good together. And I want to thank you for eating with me. See, it's my birthday. My eighteenth." Swede said between shoveling in bites of food.
I nodded and continued eating. I couldn't decide whether to save half my sandwich or one third of it.
"Golly, Hush. Do you think it'd kill you to have a conversation with me? We've spent every day together for a while and I can count on one hand the number of times you've talked."
I thought for a little bit and decided that, as it was Swede's birthday, I could talk for a while. No one seemed to understand my silence. It wasn't that I was rude, but that I just didn't need to talk unless I had something to say. And it had been months since I had something to say.
"Well, Swede. Did you have anything in particular that you wanted to talk about?"
Flabbergasted, Swede stared at me. Finally he shook himself out of it and said, "Where do you come from?"
"Ireland first and then... Well, I can't tell you." I shot back without a breath.
"So you're an immigrant too. What happened to your family?" Swede said eagerly.
"They died."
Things went on in this vein for a while. It shook me up pretty badly, though, talking that much.
Finally Swede paid for our meal and we left, walking through the rain that had started to get to the Lodging House. After a ten minute walk we entered to a state of great excitement.
"Swede, get over here!" Whiskey, the leader, called from the center of the bunkroom. "And bring your shadow. Introduce her to Race and his sister!"
I froze behind Swede. The Traveler was here. What did that mean for me? She wouldn't drag me back, she wasn't that type of person. But what if Spot was here too? He was definitely that type of person.
"Race, how's it going?" Swede yelled as he and Racetrack spit shook. "This is Hush. She don't talk much."
"Nice to meet cha. My sister The Traveler (mouthful ain't it?) is around here somewhere." Racetrack smiled at me.
"Did I hear my name in vain?" I heard an extremely familiar voice join the conversation and saw a skinny, black-haired girl get up from where she was sitting against the wall. The Traveler. Or Anna-Maria Higgins, depending on how much you knew about her. Or even Tee, as called her. I called her Annie, meself. She had more names than she had changes of clothes.
Suddenly I saw Annie's eyes widen and her hand flashed out and grabbed me by the sleeve.
"Magic! So this is where you've been hiding out!" Her voice rose above the crowd and the entire group turned to stare.
"Magic? That's your name?" Swede blurted out, looking ashen.
"What's she talking about Hush?"
"Anna-Maria Higgins, what are you talking about? You said you never made it to Boston." Racetrack looked confused.
I took a deep breath and decided that I probably had something to say here. Maybe I'd be loud enough.
"They called me Magic in Brooklyn. I knew The Traveler there." There, that was probably enough, right?
"Still the same old Magic. Boys, excuse us for a few minutes okay?" Magic exercised her old control of a crowd. "Race, stop sputtering. I'll explain it to you later, okay?"
I nodded and lead the way to the bathroom down the hall that I used, knowing that Magic wanted somewhere private to talk.
"Spot's not the same without you." No introduction, nothing. Annie just made a statement and looked at me.
I smiled a little, "He's got you. That should be enough trouble for any man."
"Oh, he loves me all right. But I don't think he ever realized how much his identity is tied up with you."
"He'll get over it." I said this shortly, wishing for the conversation to be over.
"No. No, he won't." Annie said in a matter of fact tone.
"And how do you know this, Annie?" I shook my head. "I'm not going back unless I have something more for me there than that. Not that you and Spot aren't enough, but I need a life too."
"I know this because he acts like I did when Race and I got seperated." Annie stood up and went back into the bunkroom.
Chicken was really more expensive than beef at this time period. Did anyone solve the mystery?I decided to write a little note to all my reviewers because I know I love it when they do that for me. Hey look my name in type!! It's not even in my story! Yes!
Fastdancr: Thank you so much for reviewing. And not just this story so far, but all my stories. Your reviews always cheer me right up!
Spotted One: Thanks for your suggestion about using both Swede and Race. I think I'm going to try to do that in subsequent chapters. Thanks for all your reviews of my stories!
Chronicles Bailey: I tried to put some Race in this chapter for you, but the muse wasn't around. Stay tuned for later developments!
lildreamer99: Well, look out. Race is in Boston, now. He'll become a bigger part, I promise.
Rhapsody: I started to develop Swede in this chapter. I think he's going to gain a personality soon. (I can only hope, right?)
Glimmer: Thank you so much for reviewing. You made me a happy Newsies fan.
SparksdaNewsie: I love your name, by the way. Hope you like the rest of the story.
