*DISCLAIMER* (Pretty important stuff... please read.) With the exception of Caroline "Diamond" Murphy, all of the characters in this story are the property of the Walt Disney Company. Yeah. That about covers it.
PART ONE- WINTER OF 1893, NEW YORK CITY
Even for a bitterly chilly winter's day, the streets of Manhattan were alive and noisy with activity. It looked and sounded like every child in New York was engaged in a snowball war. Every child, that is, but young Jack Kelly.
He looked longingly at the fun that the others were having, pelting one another with hard-packed snowballs. Instead of joining them, Jack merely adjusted the oversized red bandanna around his neck and shifted his stack of newspapers from one small shoulder to the other, continuing along the streets in a brisk gait. His too-big black cowboy hat bounced along on his back, secured by a rawhide cord around his boyish neck. Unlike the children around him, Jack Kelly had a job to do. He had to sell his papes.
As the young boy scanned the snow-covered streets in search of another prospective customer, he heard a distinct sound. Jack's ears detected the sad sound of crying. Where was it coming from? He curiously followed the crying to its source: a small, shivering figure huddled in a nearby alleyway. A little girl.
Jack curiously approached the girl. "Whatsa matter?"
The girl's head snapped up. "Go away," she murmured, glaring at him through tear-stained eyes. "Leave me alone."
"Whatever you say." Jack turned around and prepared to leave.
She noticed this mysterious boy's cowboy hat and bandanna. "Are you... a real cowboy?" she inquired, sniffling. She'd never met a real cowboy before.
Jack immediately turned around. Nobody had ever called him a real cowboy before. It sure did feel good. He confidently set the oversized black hat on his head.
"Not yet," he admitted. "But I'm gonna be real soon. Just as soon as my folks find a place in Santa Fe." It was the story he told everyone he met.
For a moment, the girl forgot about crying. "Santa Fe..." She liked the way it sounded. So full of mystery and excitement.
Jack asked his original question once more: "So, whatsa matter? Why're you crying?"
She sniffled, bringing on a fresh wave of tears. "My mommy jus' died this mornin'..."
"Sorry to hear that." Jack sat on the cobblestone next to her.
"I'm running away," she added, sticking out her chin determinedly.
"Ain't you got no fam'ly here?"
She shook her head.
"What's your name, kid?" he asked after a pause.
"Caroline... Caroline Elizabeth Murphy," she recited, rubbing her eyes.
"I'se Jack Kelly. But my friends call me Cowboy." He spat in his hand and offered it to her, nodding for her to do the same. Caroline reluctantly put a tiny dab of spit into her palm and shook hands with her new friend.
"How old are ya, Caroline 'Lizabeth Murphy?" he asked.
"Ten..." she said regretfully. "But I'm gonna be eleven in a few weeks," she added in a rush. Being ten was so babyish.
"Just turned twelve," Jack replied proudly. "So... you need a place to stay or what?"
"Guess so."
"Want a job?"
She shrugged.
"How'd you like to sell papes?" he offered. Jack indicated the stack he carried. "We got a lodging house just down the block. Ev'rybody's real nice."
"Are there girls there?" she asked hopefully.
"Well, it's just us boys right now," he answered truthfully. When her face fell, he added, "Hey, how 'bout I act as a sorta big brother to ya? I'll keep an eye out for you an' all that. Whaddya say, huh?"
A smile curled a corner of Caroline's mouth. "Okay."
*******************************************************
The sound of jaws dropping echoed throughout the newsies' lodging house as Cowboy meandered through the stares from the newsies. Caroline dodged awkward glances and instinctly followed her new big brother. Three boys about Jack's age set down their cards at the makeshift poker table, gawking at this new girl in their lodging house.
"Whazzat?" A boy about Caroline's age drew a cigar from his mouth and scratched his dark, curly head of hair pensively.
"Yeah; whatcha got here, Jacky-boy?" Another member of the table extended his ornate cane in Caroline's direction.
"Heya, Spot." Jack must have known him. "How goes things in Brooklyn?"
"The same. But you didn't answer my question." For a younger boy, this Spot certainly had a menacing demeanor.
"This here's Caroline," Jack replied. "She wants to be a newsie."
Caroline nodded silently in agreement. But what was a newsie? Whatever it was, she imagined she'd find out soon.
The boy called Spot analyzed Caroline with his electric-blue eyes. "Caroline?" he scoffed. "That ain't no name for a newsie. You needs a new name."
"How do I do that?" she wondered aloud.
Cowboy placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ah, we'll worry 'bout it later, kid. How 'bout I introduce you to the fellas?"
Caroline remained quiet as Cowboy began with the three poker players nearby:
"This here's Racetrack Higgins," he began, indicating the dark-haired cigar smoker, who nodded cordially to the newcomer. "You sorta know Spot Conlon; he's from Brooklyn... and over there's Kid Blink, on account of he's got an eyepatch."
Kid Blink, a year or so older than Cowboy, nodded genuinely to Caroline. The eye that wasn't concealed by an eyepatch had a smile in it.
Caroline managed a smile as well. Everything was going to be all right; she was certain of it.
Later that evening, young Jack went up to the rooftop just like he did every night. It was a place he could always go to think-- to dream about life in Santa Fe. His very own isolated place. So, naturally, he was startled to find little Caroline looking dazedly at the night sky when he arrived. He heard her whisper in a soft voice:
"Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight: I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight." She fervently closed her eyes and searched her mind for a good wish.
"Whatcha doing up here?" Cowboy asked her.
She appeared a little startled. "Oh, I'm sorry..."
He shrugged indifferently. "'S okay." He leaned over on the wall next to her. "What was that? What you just did."
"What?"
"The... poem. Or whatever-it-was," he rushed.
"Oh. I was wishing on a star. See, that bright, pretty one?" She indicated the North Star. "When you see a star, you're supposed to go, 'Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight: I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.' And then you make a wish." She grinned shyly.
"Does it work?" he asked skeptically.
She shrugged her little shoulders. "I dunno. Maybe. The angels give out the wishes. Mommy-- Mommy used to say that." She sniffled, remembering her mother.
"Then, I think..." Cowboy said, choosing his words carefully, "that your momma's probably one of them angels granting wishes now."
Caroline's eyes twinkled hopefully. She'd never thought of that. "My mommy's... an angel?"
Jack nodded ardently in reply. "And she's prob'ly watching down on you from that same star."
"Wish I was an angel, too..." she said wistfully.
"Maybe someday you will."
************************************************
Little Caroline Murphy began to fit in immediately. She quickly became one of the fastest sellers at the Manhattan lodging house and earned respect among the boys.
"Hey," Cowboy asked her once when a group of them was selling together, "what's that thing 'round your neck?"
She reached under her baggy shirt and pulled out a fancy ring on a silver chain. "It's a ring that belonged to Mommy... My fingers are too little to wear it, so it's on a chain so it won't get lost. It's got a real diamond on it... see?"
His young hazel eyes lit up excitedly. "Diamond Murphy!"
"What?"
"Your nickname! Diamond... it's perfect!"
The other boys murmured in agreement. It was a good idea for a nickname.
Caroline smiled. Diamond. Beautiful. She hadn't been a newsie for a full week and she already had a nickname.
*** NEARLY FIVE YEARS LATER... AUTUMN 1898 ***
Diamond Murphy looked around critically at the newsies. She'd never seen so many sad faces before.
"Where's Spot?" she asked her best friend, Cowboy. "Thought he'd wanna see me off an' all."
"Still in Brooklyn," he answered, feeling a lump form in his throat.
"Ya can't leave us, Diamond," Blink protested. "We love you."
She swallowed, fighting back tears. "This ain't easy for me neither. But Grandma... she needs me," she insisted, referring to her ailing grandmother in Richmond, Virginia, the whole reason why Diamond had to leave the only family she'd had for five years.
Cowboy took a step forward. "I don't care how nice Richmond is," he said with a smirk in his voice. "Don't forget us over here."
Diamond shook her head, determined. "Never," she insisted, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. She refused to let them fall. Jack hadn't seen her cry since they first met years ago. Even so, twin tears inevitably stained her pale cheeks.
"What's this?" Racetrack remarked. "Hard-as-nails Diamond Murphy sheddin' a tear? I don't believe it."
She punched him good-naturedly. "Ah, shut up... Boy, am I gonna miss you guys."
A shrill train whistle erupted throughout Grand Central Station.
"Hear that?" said Jack. "That means you gotta go." He pulled his best friend into a tight bear hug. "Be good, Diamond. Understand?"
She nodded. "Understood... g'bye, everyone."
"G'bye, Diamond" communally filled the air as a conductor whisked her into the train car bound for Virginia. The newsies whooped, cheered, and yelled until the train slowly chugged out of sight. Then, with heavy, empty hearts, they trudged to the distribution center to get to work. Just because everyone's best friend was gone didn't mean there wasn't a living that needed to be made.
**********************************************
YAY! You guys actually love this stuff (go figure!), so I've put up more!! Go check it out!
Lots of Love,
Backstage
PART ONE- WINTER OF 1893, NEW YORK CITY
Even for a bitterly chilly winter's day, the streets of Manhattan were alive and noisy with activity. It looked and sounded like every child in New York was engaged in a snowball war. Every child, that is, but young Jack Kelly.
He looked longingly at the fun that the others were having, pelting one another with hard-packed snowballs. Instead of joining them, Jack merely adjusted the oversized red bandanna around his neck and shifted his stack of newspapers from one small shoulder to the other, continuing along the streets in a brisk gait. His too-big black cowboy hat bounced along on his back, secured by a rawhide cord around his boyish neck. Unlike the children around him, Jack Kelly had a job to do. He had to sell his papes.
As the young boy scanned the snow-covered streets in search of another prospective customer, he heard a distinct sound. Jack's ears detected the sad sound of crying. Where was it coming from? He curiously followed the crying to its source: a small, shivering figure huddled in a nearby alleyway. A little girl.
Jack curiously approached the girl. "Whatsa matter?"
The girl's head snapped up. "Go away," she murmured, glaring at him through tear-stained eyes. "Leave me alone."
"Whatever you say." Jack turned around and prepared to leave.
She noticed this mysterious boy's cowboy hat and bandanna. "Are you... a real cowboy?" she inquired, sniffling. She'd never met a real cowboy before.
Jack immediately turned around. Nobody had ever called him a real cowboy before. It sure did feel good. He confidently set the oversized black hat on his head.
"Not yet," he admitted. "But I'm gonna be real soon. Just as soon as my folks find a place in Santa Fe." It was the story he told everyone he met.
For a moment, the girl forgot about crying. "Santa Fe..." She liked the way it sounded. So full of mystery and excitement.
Jack asked his original question once more: "So, whatsa matter? Why're you crying?"
She sniffled, bringing on a fresh wave of tears. "My mommy jus' died this mornin'..."
"Sorry to hear that." Jack sat on the cobblestone next to her.
"I'm running away," she added, sticking out her chin determinedly.
"Ain't you got no fam'ly here?"
She shook her head.
"What's your name, kid?" he asked after a pause.
"Caroline... Caroline Elizabeth Murphy," she recited, rubbing her eyes.
"I'se Jack Kelly. But my friends call me Cowboy." He spat in his hand and offered it to her, nodding for her to do the same. Caroline reluctantly put a tiny dab of spit into her palm and shook hands with her new friend.
"How old are ya, Caroline 'Lizabeth Murphy?" he asked.
"Ten..." she said regretfully. "But I'm gonna be eleven in a few weeks," she added in a rush. Being ten was so babyish.
"Just turned twelve," Jack replied proudly. "So... you need a place to stay or what?"
"Guess so."
"Want a job?"
She shrugged.
"How'd you like to sell papes?" he offered. Jack indicated the stack he carried. "We got a lodging house just down the block. Ev'rybody's real nice."
"Are there girls there?" she asked hopefully.
"Well, it's just us boys right now," he answered truthfully. When her face fell, he added, "Hey, how 'bout I act as a sorta big brother to ya? I'll keep an eye out for you an' all that. Whaddya say, huh?"
A smile curled a corner of Caroline's mouth. "Okay."
*******************************************************
The sound of jaws dropping echoed throughout the newsies' lodging house as Cowboy meandered through the stares from the newsies. Caroline dodged awkward glances and instinctly followed her new big brother. Three boys about Jack's age set down their cards at the makeshift poker table, gawking at this new girl in their lodging house.
"Whazzat?" A boy about Caroline's age drew a cigar from his mouth and scratched his dark, curly head of hair pensively.
"Yeah; whatcha got here, Jacky-boy?" Another member of the table extended his ornate cane in Caroline's direction.
"Heya, Spot." Jack must have known him. "How goes things in Brooklyn?"
"The same. But you didn't answer my question." For a younger boy, this Spot certainly had a menacing demeanor.
"This here's Caroline," Jack replied. "She wants to be a newsie."
Caroline nodded silently in agreement. But what was a newsie? Whatever it was, she imagined she'd find out soon.
The boy called Spot analyzed Caroline with his electric-blue eyes. "Caroline?" he scoffed. "That ain't no name for a newsie. You needs a new name."
"How do I do that?" she wondered aloud.
Cowboy placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ah, we'll worry 'bout it later, kid. How 'bout I introduce you to the fellas?"
Caroline remained quiet as Cowboy began with the three poker players nearby:
"This here's Racetrack Higgins," he began, indicating the dark-haired cigar smoker, who nodded cordially to the newcomer. "You sorta know Spot Conlon; he's from Brooklyn... and over there's Kid Blink, on account of he's got an eyepatch."
Kid Blink, a year or so older than Cowboy, nodded genuinely to Caroline. The eye that wasn't concealed by an eyepatch had a smile in it.
Caroline managed a smile as well. Everything was going to be all right; she was certain of it.
Later that evening, young Jack went up to the rooftop just like he did every night. It was a place he could always go to think-- to dream about life in Santa Fe. His very own isolated place. So, naturally, he was startled to find little Caroline looking dazedly at the night sky when he arrived. He heard her whisper in a soft voice:
"Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight: I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight." She fervently closed her eyes and searched her mind for a good wish.
"Whatcha doing up here?" Cowboy asked her.
She appeared a little startled. "Oh, I'm sorry..."
He shrugged indifferently. "'S okay." He leaned over on the wall next to her. "What was that? What you just did."
"What?"
"The... poem. Or whatever-it-was," he rushed.
"Oh. I was wishing on a star. See, that bright, pretty one?" She indicated the North Star. "When you see a star, you're supposed to go, 'Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight: I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.' And then you make a wish." She grinned shyly.
"Does it work?" he asked skeptically.
She shrugged her little shoulders. "I dunno. Maybe. The angels give out the wishes. Mommy-- Mommy used to say that." She sniffled, remembering her mother.
"Then, I think..." Cowboy said, choosing his words carefully, "that your momma's probably one of them angels granting wishes now."
Caroline's eyes twinkled hopefully. She'd never thought of that. "My mommy's... an angel?"
Jack nodded ardently in reply. "And she's prob'ly watching down on you from that same star."
"Wish I was an angel, too..." she said wistfully.
"Maybe someday you will."
************************************************
Little Caroline Murphy began to fit in immediately. She quickly became one of the fastest sellers at the Manhattan lodging house and earned respect among the boys.
"Hey," Cowboy asked her once when a group of them was selling together, "what's that thing 'round your neck?"
She reached under her baggy shirt and pulled out a fancy ring on a silver chain. "It's a ring that belonged to Mommy... My fingers are too little to wear it, so it's on a chain so it won't get lost. It's got a real diamond on it... see?"
His young hazel eyes lit up excitedly. "Diamond Murphy!"
"What?"
"Your nickname! Diamond... it's perfect!"
The other boys murmured in agreement. It was a good idea for a nickname.
Caroline smiled. Diamond. Beautiful. She hadn't been a newsie for a full week and she already had a nickname.
*** NEARLY FIVE YEARS LATER... AUTUMN 1898 ***
Diamond Murphy looked around critically at the newsies. She'd never seen so many sad faces before.
"Where's Spot?" she asked her best friend, Cowboy. "Thought he'd wanna see me off an' all."
"Still in Brooklyn," he answered, feeling a lump form in his throat.
"Ya can't leave us, Diamond," Blink protested. "We love you."
She swallowed, fighting back tears. "This ain't easy for me neither. But Grandma... she needs me," she insisted, referring to her ailing grandmother in Richmond, Virginia, the whole reason why Diamond had to leave the only family she'd had for five years.
Cowboy took a step forward. "I don't care how nice Richmond is," he said with a smirk in his voice. "Don't forget us over here."
Diamond shook her head, determined. "Never," she insisted, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. She refused to let them fall. Jack hadn't seen her cry since they first met years ago. Even so, twin tears inevitably stained her pale cheeks.
"What's this?" Racetrack remarked. "Hard-as-nails Diamond Murphy sheddin' a tear? I don't believe it."
She punched him good-naturedly. "Ah, shut up... Boy, am I gonna miss you guys."
A shrill train whistle erupted throughout Grand Central Station.
"Hear that?" said Jack. "That means you gotta go." He pulled his best friend into a tight bear hug. "Be good, Diamond. Understand?"
She nodded. "Understood... g'bye, everyone."
"G'bye, Diamond" communally filled the air as a conductor whisked her into the train car bound for Virginia. The newsies whooped, cheered, and yelled until the train slowly chugged out of sight. Then, with heavy, empty hearts, they trudged to the distribution center to get to work. Just because everyone's best friend was gone didn't mean there wasn't a living that needed to be made.
**********************************************
YAY! You guys actually love this stuff (go figure!), so I've put up more!! Go check it out!
Lots of Love,
Backstage