Chapter 2

A soft knock on the door woke her up nice and early the next morning. Kloppman usually just barged in to wake the boys up, but he was always gentler with his little Gracie. She had her own small room upstairs, with a little bed and a tin tub that served as a bathroom. It was nothing like her extravagant dressing room at the Vaudeville theatre in California, but it was cozy.

She took a lukewarm bath, washed her face, and brushed her teeth and hair. She had always loved her long, dark hair, but only admired it when she was alone. She had been one of the boys for so long that braiding in on either side and tying the plates in a knot on her neck seemed like second nature. It had felt so strange to feel bouncy curls swishing around her face when she was on stage, it was nice to get back to normal.

Carefully, Grace opened her suitcase. It had been a gift from the theatre in California, so sad to see her go. They had given her so much during her stay: beautiful dresses, lotions and colognes, ribbons for her hair. But to stay there would have been to ignore her heart. So here she was, back in New York, disregarding the expensive and fashionable ensembles bursting from the suitcase and instead fastening a dirty skirt around her waist

She was outside on the steps, flipping nonchalantly through a Sears catalogue, when the boys came trampling downstairs some time later. Jack pulled her up from behind and kissed her on the cheek, and they all marched off towards the distribution center, singing their morning work chantey.

The morning began happily enough, with the nuns stationed at their usual table waiting to offer a meager breakfast to the working boys of New York. The sun had barely crept over the statue of Horace Greeley in the square when the gates opened for the Newsies to pick up the morning edition. "Ladies first," Jack offered, with an eloquent bow.

"Finally you admit it!" Gracie remarked as she sauntered up the platform to Weisel's window. She leafed quickly through the pages, then held her coins up to the man behind the bars. "Fifty papers Mr.wait a minute, where's Weasel?"

"Oh yeah," Mush stated, "didn't you know? He was fired when Jack and Davey.oh yeah, you weren't here!"

"Geez, the things I miss." Gracie took her papers and thanked the man at the window, then took a seat on a wooden crate and turned to the middle of the paper. "I'Brooklyn Man Released from Prison after Five Years.'/I" she read, considering the headline's possibilities.

Jack sat down next to her and unfolded one of his own papers. "So where ya headed this morning, Sweet-face?" he asked as his eyes moved up and down the page.

"I dunno, I was thinkin' maybe the boxing ring or the pub on 22nd Street. How 'bout you?"

"Dunno yet. Gotta Wait for Davey." Cowboy looked up from his paper and skimmed the scene for a sight of his selling partner, and upon finding no luck in that venture returned to his reading.

"So, uh.when am I gonna meet this Davey, anyway?"

"He'll be here, don't worry." He looked up again and this time spotted the boy. Jack flagged him down and helped his girl up to make introductions. "Here he is! Gracie, meet David, the Walking Mouth. Dave, this is, um, Grace."

David, shy and reserved as usual, smiled sheepishly at the pretty brunette. But Gracie was never one to hold back. "How do ya do?" she smiled, spitting in her palm and holding it out to the newcomer. He reluctantly followed the customary Newsie greeting, then stuffed his hands back in his pockets.

"So, Dave," Jack said as he lit a cigarette, "Where's Les today?"

"Oh, he's at home helping Sarah. Mom's kind of worried that he's catching small pox or something, but-" He cut his sentence short, realizing he was in front of a lady and to continue talking about his brother's cold would be inappropriate.

"Who's Sarah?" Grace asked, completely confused.

"Sarah's Dave's sister," Cowboy explained. "She kinda saved your spot while you was away."

"Sarah, huh? She pretty?" She narrowed her gaze at the young man seated next to her.

"So, boys and girls," Race cut in, squeezing in between Jack and Grace and breaking the tension, "Anything good this morning?"

"Yeah," Grace grunted, "just ask Jack." She hopped off the crate and strolled off to her usual selling place. Sarah Jacobs had been 'saving her spot.' So it wasn't just Gracie who had changed, after all.