"Your name?" The doctor asked. He lifted an eyelid to examine the eye. White spots in the eye were a sign of disease.

"Grace Kiernan," Lyf replied, a bit uncomfortable.

"Any family with you?"

"My brother, Joe. Does he have to have a health check too?"

"Yes, everyone does. You're Irish?"

Lyf nodded. The doctor checked her heart rate and mouth, looking for infection. "You look good to me. I'm signing the health visa. Give this to whoever you talk to for train tickets, so he knows you're healthy. Good luck on finding your brother!"

"Thanks," Lyf responded. The doctor had been nice enough, but she didn't have any idea where to find her friends or Joe. She didn't really have a choice where to go-Sling had been right. Ellis Island was made up of lines.



"When ya gonna stop runnin'?" Sneaks asked her friend over a couple of drinks. "Ya ain't gonna leave, are ya?"

"I would if Cowboy was alright," Sling responded, sighing. "Why'd Dan come back? It ain't fair for him ta be heah."

"C'mon, no one likes deir bruddas. Look at mine! He's so protective I ain't allowed ta tell anyone my real name! Not ev'n Jake. An' I can't do anythin' wit'out his say-so."

"Yeah, Graft should lighten up," Sling agreed. She looked up to the clock on the wall. "Crap, it's after two. Kloppy won't be happy."

"Cowboy used to come back dat late. It ain't a big deal," Sneaks said. "Though Graft pro'l'ly won't like da fact I'se out dis late."

"Forget what Graft t'inks, what can he do?"

"Moah den you t'ink," said a voice from behind the two girls.

They turned around quickly. "Heya Spot, back from Brooklyn awready?" Sling asked, surprised.

"Nah, I didn't go...didn't cross da bridge," Spot replied, fingering the gold tip of his cane. He looked back up. "But me boids are still woikin', an' I hoid somethin' 'bout a little incident in your Lodgin' House dis evenin'."

Sling shot Spot a glare. "It was Dan's fault."

"Yeah, an' I bet he shot hisself in da knee wit' his imaginary slingshot," Spot mocked.

"Shut up Spot. You ain't got a bruddah ta complain 'bout," Sneaks said.

"Nope, I guess I'se lucky. But I do know one t'ing, and dats dat Sling, if you'se don't get back to da Lodgin' House soon, Cowboy'll fall back asleep disapointed."

"Why didn't ya say he was awake soonah?" Sling said, slightly irritated. "Oh no...I promised I'd be dere when he woke up. An' I wasn't...it's Dan's fault. If he hadn't shown up-"

"Put a lid on it Sling, I t'ink I liked ya bettah when ya didn't talk much. You an' Sneaks both, go home. Act'lly, I'se comin' with ya, not goin' ta Brooklyn. Let's go," Spot said, taking charge as usual. "An' Sneaks, I don't want ya out dis late again."



` "Lyf! Over here!" Her brother, Joe, called and waved his arm. She hurried over to find Joe with Lute, Ben, Apocalypse, and Holiday.

"What are we waiting in line for?" Lyf asked.

"See those counters up there?" Lute pointed to the front of the large hall. "Once you reach there, you have to prove you know what kind of job you can get and support yourself. Tell them you have money in your pockets, even if you don't. And then, if you're approved, they'll sell you train tickets. If you're just staying in New York, you won't need train tickets."

"Well, you're informed, aren't you?" Holiday said, teasing. "I'm excited. If we're approved, we can leave today, right?"

"Yes," Ben said, "Though they'll let you stay another night if it's late."

Apocalypse sighed. "We be lucky to reach the counter if the line doesn't move much."

"We will be lucky" Holiday corrected. "Don't worry about it, your English is great."

The line slowly moved, and an hour or two later-they weren't quite sure of the time, for no clock was in sight-Lute and Ben reached the counter.

"Health reports, please," the attendent, a young man, asked. Glancing them over, he asked a series of questions.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"Yes, we recieved an invitation from an American on board ship. We, and these young ladies, and gentleman, were told of a Lodging House that would put us up," Ben replied thoughtfully.

The attendent nodded. "That's good. Job skills?"

Ben grinned sheepishly. "I was a bartender in Ireland for a while-I suppose I could take that up again. Otherwise, I worked at the docks in shipping."

"Hmm...well, I suppose that's good enough. And do you have any money?"

Ben nodded. "When I get to the City, can I exchange it for American money?"

"Yes. You must go to a bank that takes, I assume, Irish money. I'd recommend somewhere close to Battery Park-which is where the steamboat will take you to shore-because a good number of immigrants pass through there. Do you need train tickets, or are you staying in the city?"

"We'll be in Manhatten, thanks," Ben replied.

The attendant stamped "approved" on the health reports. "You can go. Down the stairs, stay to the right, and the dock will have a sign for New York. Take the next steamboat, if you can. They run until about eight o'clock tonight, which is in two hours."

Ben nodded a thanks, and Lute, who had wisely stayed quiet, were allowed passed the counter, to the "stairs of seperation". The nickname came from the fact the the stairs were divided into thirds, dividing people by destination. Ben and Lute waited at the top for the rest of the group, and about half an hour later, all were approved and sent to the docks.



Jack moaned in pain again. "Mush, help me up, please..."

Mush shook his head. "I ain't s'pposed to, Cowboy."

Wincing, Jack pushed himself to a sitting position. "So ya ain't list'nin' ta me anymore?"

Mush's expression said more than his words. He wanted to help his leader, who had always been a brother to him, there in times of need...but he couldn't. "Cowboy, you can't get up. And ya know it."

"But haven't I always told ya dat you can do whatevah ya want to, if ya want it bad enough?" he responded with obvious effort. He gripped the bedpost with his pale hand, mostly covered in a layer of cotton, and pulled himself to the edge of the bed. "Jist help me up, Mush."

"Fine, I don't want ya ta hoit yaself," Mush replied, sighing. He put his arm around Jack's shoulders to lift him up. Jack closed his eyes in the pain of putting weight on his legs. "Ya alright?"

Simply nodding, Jack clenched his jaw, and removed his grip from the bedpost. It ended up to be too much for him, and before Mush could help, Cowboy fell back onto the bunk, breathing heavily and gripped with sadness. "Why can't I walk, Mush?"



Spot had watched from a few beds over, to Jack's back. Sneaks was there, leaning on Jake, and in shock was Sling. Spot looked at his friends with him, and decisively walked over the Jack's bunk, sitting down next to his friend. "You will be able ta walk again Jack. We'se all heah for ya," he said, gesturing for the others. "But foist ya gotta rest. Ya gotta let da rest of ya heal, an' not push yaself to hard. An' ya gotta eat, Cowboy. Ya haven't eat'n in t'ree days. Ya won't get bettah if ya don't eat."

"You'se right, Spot, but I can't eat. I get sick if I do," Jack said, his face showing the pain he was in. "Dis is gonna kill me, why don't ya jist admit it?"

"'Cause we ain't gonna let it kill ya, Cowboy," Sling said, stepping forward.

Jack scoffed. "What d'you know about it? About bein' healt'y an' off da streets. As long as you got your alcohol you're happy."

Sling bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah, you're right 'bout da drink, but I seen what ya had before. I wish I hadn't. Still got no idea what it is, t'ough."

Spot sat quietly, looking at the ground and thinking. In one swift movement he was standing, with cane in hand and pointed at Sling. "Dan-he ain't your only brudder! When ya came ta New Yawk, back befoah da strike, ya had anuddah one. What happened ta-oh." Realization hit Spot.

"Yeah, I had anothah one," Sling said quietly. "He didn't make it...he had whatevah you got, Jack, but he had a bad doctah. We ain't lettin' some scab like dat near ya. You'se strongah. Jist wait, you'll do better."

Jack laid back down, wincing again. He didn't say anything, and neither did anyone else. Sneaks left with Jake a few minutes later, and Mush went over to his bunk to sleep. Spot and Sling decided on shifts to watch Cowboy, assuring that someone would always be there in case he needed them. Jack watched while they worked out the schedule, still exhausted from the earlier conversations. "Spot," he said quietly, "I t'ink I can try eatin' now."