Spot grinned at the sign that hung crooked over the Lodging House's door. More than the original paint right above the door, Kloppman had taken on a project to make the Lodging House have a little bit of "class". The door creaked as he pushed it open.
Sling had been dreading this moment. She knew her brother was at the Lodging House, and she knew Jack was not the same. Why did I come back? She wondered to herself as painful memories were stirred at the thought of her brother.
Spot and Sling went to the front desk, while Crutchy limped over to get some food, where Kloppman was reading "Huckleberry Finn" for probably the millionth time. "Heya, Klopps, can we see Cowboy?" Sling asked, leaning on the counter the same way she always had.
"Spot! Slingshot! You...you came back! Yes, Cowboy is upstairs, same bunk. I must warn you not to touch him," he said solemnly. Nodding, the they headed up the ricketly stairs.
The Lodging House was a lot quieter than either one of them remembered. No poker games with Race screaming about who cheated were being played, Bumlets wasn't leading a swordfight, and none of the girls were sitting around talking. In fact, there was almost no one there. Spot walked into the boys' room and headed for Jack's bunk, where a girl with long golden-brown hair sat on a stool, leaning against the post of the bunk bed. Spot knew that if those eyes were open, they would be green. He had immidiately recognized her as his right-hand man's sister, Sneaks. He shook her a little to wake her up.
"Sneaks! Wake up!"
"Eh...what d'you want, snotfa-SPOT! What're you doin' heah!?" She asked, bewildered.
"Had ta see Jack," Spot replied. He hadn't had the guts to even glance at his best friend yet. "How's Graft doin' in Brooklyn?"
"He's takin' care a' you'se boys fine," Sneaks replied, shrugging. "How ya doin', Sling? You do know dat you'se got a bruddah heah, right?"
Sling nodded. "Yeah, I just ain't gonna see him." She hadn't looked at Jack either. "How come you'se up heah all on your own?"
"Someone's gotta change Jack's wrappin's..." She glanced at the wall. "It's about time ta again. Would you'se two mind doin' it? I really wanna go see Jake, help him sell some papes, y'know?"
Spot glanced at Sling, who nodded. "Sure, we'll do it. Tell Jake heya foah me," she said. Sneaks said a quick good-bye, and left, leaving Spot and Sling looking at each other and the ground, scared to look at their dear friend. Sling finally took a deep breath. "We gotta help him, we gotta look at him."
"I know...I just don't want ta ruin dat fine mental image I have," Spot replied. They turned to look at Jack.
We have waited all day on board ship. They say that third class will be dealt with lastly, but hopefully tomorrow. A friend of mine, Strider, has taken ill. Spot told me how they don't always allow ill people into New York. I very much hope that all of us will make it to America's mainland together.
Lute glance over what she had written in her journal for the day. Not much, but then again, not much had happened since the Americans had all left the ship. She hoped Spot and Sling had found their friend easily. She glanced once again at the directions Sling had scrawled, hoping they would make more sense when they got to "Battery Park".
Apocalypse sighed and plopped herself next to Lute. "Writing again?"
Lute smiled shyly. "Yes, I rather like to keep track of my voyage to America."
"Well, we not there yet. Still must get through Ellis Island."
"I know. Cheer up, it won't take too long! You'll see Spot again before you know it!" Lute replied, nudging her friend.
Apocalypse nodded. "Not too long...Brooklyn, I wonder what it like."
"I bet it's like London," Whisper said, sitting opposite Lute. "New York is a big city, after all, and Brooklyn is part-"
She was cut off by a call down the ladder. "ALL THIRD CLASS PASSENGERS. PLEASE BRING YOUR BAGGAGE AND FORM A LINE TO ENTER ELLIS ISLAND."
Excited glances were shared, and quick good-byes as family went to find family and baggage. A line was quickly formed, and slowly crawled up the ladder. Lute was about halfway through, with Ben. After close to an hour, the climbed up the ladder, across the ship, and down a slipper gangplank to step on land. Their first step on American soil.
"Cowboy..." Sling breathed painfully. Open sores covering his body were unveiled by the wrappings. His legs, usually at least somewhat muscular even with the small amount of food he lived on, were bony and weak. His face was pale and sunken, and breath came lightly.
Spot pulled off some more cloth that covered a leg, when Jack suddenly screamed in pain. Spot blinked to hold back tears, the result of seeing his best friend in so much utter pain.
Jack screamed again as some more of the dressing was removed. He reached out to grab something...and ended up grabbing Spot's arm. "Make it stop..." Jack said, delirious. Spot looked at Jack's arm, covered in a yellowish cotton linen, and grasped it back.
"C'mon Cowboy, you'se strongah den dis..."
Sling, shaking, memories she'd worked so hard on blocking flowing back into her mind, the craving for alcohol growing so she could forget all of this...
Another scream was heard. All this pain...and the doctor didn't know what to do. He didn't deserve it. He screamed again. The doctor said amputating a leg would stop the infection. It didn't.
Shaking harder, Sling pushed memories out of her head. She wrapped Jack's sores tightly, knowing that it would help lessen the pain. A few minutes later, the screaming stopped, his grip on Spot's arm eased, and Jack came to.
He blinked several times, his eyes focusing on what he had been holding. "Ss...Spot?"
"I'se heah foah ya, Cowboy. You'se doin' bettah," Spot said, gulping.
"Nah...I ain't...how long ya been heah?"
"Not long. I brought a friend foah ya..." Spot nodded for Sling to come over to that side, so Jack wouldn't have to move.
"Heya Cowboy," Sling said, trying to sound strong.
"You...you came back. Both of ya came back," Cowboy said, struggling to sit up. "I asked...nevah t'ough it would happ'n."
"Hey Cowboy, I gotta get ta Brooklyn befoah it gets late, gotta check up on me boys," Spot said. "I'll be back tamorrow."
"Carryin' da bannah," Jack said.
Spot smiled. "Carryin' da bannah." He quickly left.
"Dey been treatin' ya well, Cowboy?" Sling asked, nervous.
"Yeah...Kloppy an' da uddahs been watchin' me. I can barely move anymore, Sling. Two yeahs ago, I led a strike. And now I can't take a piss wit'out help."
"You'll be fine," she assured him. "But you'll need a lot a' rest. If ya need anyt'ing, ask me."
"Will ya stay?" he asked hopefully. "You jist...disapeared befoah."
"I won't do dat again, I promise, spit-shake promise," Sling replied. "Get some sleep. I'll be heah when ya wake up."
Jack nodded slightly, and quickly drifted off to sleep.
Sling had been dreading this moment. She knew her brother was at the Lodging House, and she knew Jack was not the same. Why did I come back? She wondered to herself as painful memories were stirred at the thought of her brother.
Spot and Sling went to the front desk, while Crutchy limped over to get some food, where Kloppman was reading "Huckleberry Finn" for probably the millionth time. "Heya, Klopps, can we see Cowboy?" Sling asked, leaning on the counter the same way she always had.
"Spot! Slingshot! You...you came back! Yes, Cowboy is upstairs, same bunk. I must warn you not to touch him," he said solemnly. Nodding, the they headed up the ricketly stairs.
The Lodging House was a lot quieter than either one of them remembered. No poker games with Race screaming about who cheated were being played, Bumlets wasn't leading a swordfight, and none of the girls were sitting around talking. In fact, there was almost no one there. Spot walked into the boys' room and headed for Jack's bunk, where a girl with long golden-brown hair sat on a stool, leaning against the post of the bunk bed. Spot knew that if those eyes were open, they would be green. He had immidiately recognized her as his right-hand man's sister, Sneaks. He shook her a little to wake her up.
"Sneaks! Wake up!"
"Eh...what d'you want, snotfa-SPOT! What're you doin' heah!?" She asked, bewildered.
"Had ta see Jack," Spot replied. He hadn't had the guts to even glance at his best friend yet. "How's Graft doin' in Brooklyn?"
"He's takin' care a' you'se boys fine," Sneaks replied, shrugging. "How ya doin', Sling? You do know dat you'se got a bruddah heah, right?"
Sling nodded. "Yeah, I just ain't gonna see him." She hadn't looked at Jack either. "How come you'se up heah all on your own?"
"Someone's gotta change Jack's wrappin's..." She glanced at the wall. "It's about time ta again. Would you'se two mind doin' it? I really wanna go see Jake, help him sell some papes, y'know?"
Spot glanced at Sling, who nodded. "Sure, we'll do it. Tell Jake heya foah me," she said. Sneaks said a quick good-bye, and left, leaving Spot and Sling looking at each other and the ground, scared to look at their dear friend. Sling finally took a deep breath. "We gotta help him, we gotta look at him."
"I know...I just don't want ta ruin dat fine mental image I have," Spot replied. They turned to look at Jack.
We have waited all day on board ship. They say that third class will be dealt with lastly, but hopefully tomorrow. A friend of mine, Strider, has taken ill. Spot told me how they don't always allow ill people into New York. I very much hope that all of us will make it to America's mainland together.
Lute glance over what she had written in her journal for the day. Not much, but then again, not much had happened since the Americans had all left the ship. She hoped Spot and Sling had found their friend easily. She glanced once again at the directions Sling had scrawled, hoping they would make more sense when they got to "Battery Park".
Apocalypse sighed and plopped herself next to Lute. "Writing again?"
Lute smiled shyly. "Yes, I rather like to keep track of my voyage to America."
"Well, we not there yet. Still must get through Ellis Island."
"I know. Cheer up, it won't take too long! You'll see Spot again before you know it!" Lute replied, nudging her friend.
Apocalypse nodded. "Not too long...Brooklyn, I wonder what it like."
"I bet it's like London," Whisper said, sitting opposite Lute. "New York is a big city, after all, and Brooklyn is part-"
She was cut off by a call down the ladder. "ALL THIRD CLASS PASSENGERS. PLEASE BRING YOUR BAGGAGE AND FORM A LINE TO ENTER ELLIS ISLAND."
Excited glances were shared, and quick good-byes as family went to find family and baggage. A line was quickly formed, and slowly crawled up the ladder. Lute was about halfway through, with Ben. After close to an hour, the climbed up the ladder, across the ship, and down a slipper gangplank to step on land. Their first step on American soil.
"Cowboy..." Sling breathed painfully. Open sores covering his body were unveiled by the wrappings. His legs, usually at least somewhat muscular even with the small amount of food he lived on, were bony and weak. His face was pale and sunken, and breath came lightly.
Spot pulled off some more cloth that covered a leg, when Jack suddenly screamed in pain. Spot blinked to hold back tears, the result of seeing his best friend in so much utter pain.
Jack screamed again as some more of the dressing was removed. He reached out to grab something...and ended up grabbing Spot's arm. "Make it stop..." Jack said, delirious. Spot looked at Jack's arm, covered in a yellowish cotton linen, and grasped it back.
"C'mon Cowboy, you'se strongah den dis..."
Sling, shaking, memories she'd worked so hard on blocking flowing back into her mind, the craving for alcohol growing so she could forget all of this...
Another scream was heard. All this pain...and the doctor didn't know what to do. He didn't deserve it. He screamed again. The doctor said amputating a leg would stop the infection. It didn't.
Shaking harder, Sling pushed memories out of her head. She wrapped Jack's sores tightly, knowing that it would help lessen the pain. A few minutes later, the screaming stopped, his grip on Spot's arm eased, and Jack came to.
He blinked several times, his eyes focusing on what he had been holding. "Ss...Spot?"
"I'se heah foah ya, Cowboy. You'se doin' bettah," Spot said, gulping.
"Nah...I ain't...how long ya been heah?"
"Not long. I brought a friend foah ya..." Spot nodded for Sling to come over to that side, so Jack wouldn't have to move.
"Heya Cowboy," Sling said, trying to sound strong.
"You...you came back. Both of ya came back," Cowboy said, struggling to sit up. "I asked...nevah t'ough it would happ'n."
"Hey Cowboy, I gotta get ta Brooklyn befoah it gets late, gotta check up on me boys," Spot said. "I'll be back tamorrow."
"Carryin' da bannah," Jack said.
Spot smiled. "Carryin' da bannah." He quickly left.
"Dey been treatin' ya well, Cowboy?" Sling asked, nervous.
"Yeah...Kloppy an' da uddahs been watchin' me. I can barely move anymore, Sling. Two yeahs ago, I led a strike. And now I can't take a piss wit'out help."
"You'll be fine," she assured him. "But you'll need a lot a' rest. If ya need anyt'ing, ask me."
"Will ya stay?" he asked hopefully. "You jist...disapeared befoah."
"I won't do dat again, I promise, spit-shake promise," Sling replied. "Get some sleep. I'll be heah when ya wake up."
Jack nodded slightly, and quickly drifted off to sleep.