"Hurry up! Maybe we's can get to Medda's before the show starts. I'm sure she'll have a dress yous can borrow for tonight!" Cowboy said, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.
"No."
"What?"
"I said, 'No.' I'm not gonna go see a show with da newsies dressed as a lady. I aint yous date."
"Suit yerself, girly, but Spot Conlon will be there. Yous know that he'll give ya hell for being a newsie, let alone dressin' as one." Cowboy added, a bit of concern in his voice.
"I know." With my few words, Race, Cowboy, and I left for Irving hall. It wasn't far from the lodging house, and we walked briskly. In a few minutes, we were sitting in the crowd, watching Medda, The Swedish Meadowlark. She danced and sang a bit, but what I remembered best was her dress…or shall I say my dress. Oh, what attention she was getting from the newsies now! Of course, with me in it, I never got a second look.
After the show, a boy a bit older than me came over to us, with a scepter at his side.
"Eh, Jackieboy, heard ya got soaked at the diner Wednesday." Spot said, doing the spit-shake. "So, who's this? I head you had a new kid with ya. Looks awful girlish- what was wrong, couldn't find a date, so ya made up your new buddy here to look like a girl, but couldn't get 'im to dress up like one?"
At this, I stood up to him, though Race and Jack tried to get me to back off. "Foist of all," I said, in an accent parodying his, " I was the one who soaked Jack in the diner. Second of all, I'm not their date, and anyone who says I is is gonna get soaked. Third of all, I aint made up ta loik like a goil, I AM a girl. I refused to look like a dress when I'm just another newsie."
Spot stuck his face right up to mine, our noses only an inch apart. "Aye, yous thinkin' yous so smart, but yous better watch yer back… there's more to feah than the Delanceys, and Brooklyn aint no bunch of whimps like Jackieboy here."
"Ya sure 'bout that, Conlon? How'd ya like ta find out?" I replied.
"Not here, not now, but someday we's gonna settle this," he said to me.
"I'll be ready. If a goil from Santa Fe can wrestle premium steer, than she can sure beat New York's ground beef."
He gave me a crooked smile, then looked over at Jack. "That's some goil ya got there. If ya ever need ta get rid of some o' that goil's spunk, send 'er ta Brooklyn and we'll straighten 'er up for ya." Spot then turned around and headed toward Brooklyn.
"Spot seemed quite taken with ya," said Cowboy, "We aint gonna send ya ta Brooklyn though, if we did, he'd keep ya there and ya'd never come back. I was thinkin' and decided that we would call you Santa Fe. I can almost see you."
The three of us walked back to the lodging house together. That is, until the Dalanceys showed up.
"Ya got a goil sellin' papes for ya Cowboy? How low can ya get?" The Delanceys cornered us in the alley. I started to shake with fear until I reminded myself that I was a newsie, I aint scared of nothin'. One of them fought Cowboy while the other came closer to me. "Pretty goil like you should be sellin' something other than papes…." Race came up behind him right before the ex-scab could hit me. He hit the Delancey over his head with a 2 by 4 and then grabbed my arm as we took off down the street.
Racetrack came up to me and put his hands on my arms. "Yous ok, m'lady?" he said in his Italian/New York accent. "Cowboy will meet us back at the lodging house soon. He was takin' the Delanceys on a wild goose chase through the city. Yous so cold, Santa Fe. I always thought Santa Fe would be a little warmer." Then, without notice, he leaned in to kiss me, but right as he was about to, I turned my cheek.
"Racetrack, you know we can't…"
"It's Cowboy, isn't it! You love Cowboy!" With this, he turned the corner and headed into the lodging house. I felt horrible and every bone in my body was shaking. Since when did I become so cold?
