Racetrack was having a lousy selling day. His head was filled to the brim
with thoughts of Spyder and her beauty. He had yet to sell a pape and it
was nearly ten o'clock. Racetrack had not noticed, but he was wandering
along streets that were leading him downtown. Racetrack's stomach
grumbled. Race stopped and looked around for a restaurant. His ears heard
the words of his mother's language and he realized he was in Little Italy.
His pockets being empty, Racetrack knew he needed to sell papes before he
could afford to eat.
It was not easy selling the morning papes at this time of the day. Racetrack's lack of enthusiasm did not help matters either. After a half- hour, Race had sold ten of his fifty papes. He sat himself on the curb of Orchard Street and rested his chin on his fists. No sooner had Race heaved a sigh than a figure stepped in front of him.
"Hey, don't I know you?" She kicked at his shoes. Racetrack raised his solemn head to see Spyder before him. "Yeah, you'se dat newsie dat was followin' me a couple days ago." Racetrack's eyes were wide and bright. He tried to speak but no words came to him. "What was yer name again? Racehorse er somethin'?"
Racetrack forced himself out of his stupor. "Racetrack," he said.
"Well, whatdaya doin' round 'ere, Racetrack?" she asked, her voice filled with the vibrancy Racetrack had fallen for days earlier.
"I, ah, I don't know," was his response.
"Well, when ya figuah it out, lemme know." She started to walk away when Racetrack jumped to his feet.
"Wheah ya goin'?" He asked, sliding his hands into his pockets and trying to act nonchalant.
"I got some business tah attend to." She raised her eyebrows, "Is dat okay witchoo?"
"Um, ah," Racetrack searched his brain for some point of conversation to keep her longer. "Do ya like tah gamble?"
"Yeah, and I take it you do too, Racetrack." She began to walk back toward him. "Why?"
Racetrack knew he needed some excuse to see her again, "Ya wanna go tah Sheepshead wit me?"
"Well, I gots dat business."
"How 'bout tahmarrah?" He said quickly but realized he needed to see her sooner. "No, ah, do ya play cards? I'se gotta card game wit dah boys tahnight. Do ya wanna come?"
"Shoah, cards it is. What time?" She was amused by his obvious agitation.
"Eight ah'clock at dah Newsboys Lodging House. Do ya know wheah dat is?"
"Yeah, neah City Hall, right?"
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Okay, I'll be dere." She gave him a playful punch in the jaw, "See ya kid." With that, the goddess of Racetrack's idolatry strolled away down the street.
Racetrack resumed his spot on the curb and sighed. Cards wit Spydah. He sighted again. I need money! Race jumped to his feet and headed uptown, selling papes on his way, and his hunger melted by the fire in his heart.
It was not easy selling the morning papes at this time of the day. Racetrack's lack of enthusiasm did not help matters either. After a half- hour, Race had sold ten of his fifty papes. He sat himself on the curb of Orchard Street and rested his chin on his fists. No sooner had Race heaved a sigh than a figure stepped in front of him.
"Hey, don't I know you?" She kicked at his shoes. Racetrack raised his solemn head to see Spyder before him. "Yeah, you'se dat newsie dat was followin' me a couple days ago." Racetrack's eyes were wide and bright. He tried to speak but no words came to him. "What was yer name again? Racehorse er somethin'?"
Racetrack forced himself out of his stupor. "Racetrack," he said.
"Well, whatdaya doin' round 'ere, Racetrack?" she asked, her voice filled with the vibrancy Racetrack had fallen for days earlier.
"I, ah, I don't know," was his response.
"Well, when ya figuah it out, lemme know." She started to walk away when Racetrack jumped to his feet.
"Wheah ya goin'?" He asked, sliding his hands into his pockets and trying to act nonchalant.
"I got some business tah attend to." She raised her eyebrows, "Is dat okay witchoo?"
"Um, ah," Racetrack searched his brain for some point of conversation to keep her longer. "Do ya like tah gamble?"
"Yeah, and I take it you do too, Racetrack." She began to walk back toward him. "Why?"
Racetrack knew he needed some excuse to see her again, "Ya wanna go tah Sheepshead wit me?"
"Well, I gots dat business."
"How 'bout tahmarrah?" He said quickly but realized he needed to see her sooner. "No, ah, do ya play cards? I'se gotta card game wit dah boys tahnight. Do ya wanna come?"
"Shoah, cards it is. What time?" She was amused by his obvious agitation.
"Eight ah'clock at dah Newsboys Lodging House. Do ya know wheah dat is?"
"Yeah, neah City Hall, right?"
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Okay, I'll be dere." She gave him a playful punch in the jaw, "See ya kid." With that, the goddess of Racetrack's idolatry strolled away down the street.
Racetrack resumed his spot on the curb and sighed. Cards wit Spydah. He sighted again. I need money! Race jumped to his feet and headed uptown, selling papes on his way, and his hunger melted by the fire in his heart.