Disclaimer: I claim no rights to the characters or the places mentioned in the story. All that is Disney's is Disney's, and all that is mine is mine. This disclaimer holds true for all chapters posted, or to be posted of this story. I am not making money with this story; I am dirt poor, so don't sue me. I also take no claim to the song lyrics. Those belong to the producers, the artists, the composers, the record label, the writers, and the genius that is not my own. I am not making money off of it or any part of this story, no infringement is intended, so don't sue me.
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A/N: This part of the story is about Frost remembering her time in Manhattan. Bear with me because I really have no idea where this is going to go and I just got home from hockey practice. AKA: Two hours of what our coach likes to call 'hell drills.' My legs still feel like they are on fire, so this chapter could be the result of the bad after effects of PMS and hell drills. Hmm… this could be interesting….
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Warning: I think this is PG for mild swearing and a few sexual terms… like whore.
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Chapter 10: Memory
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Keep in mind that all of these things happen before the strike occurred.
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//Midnight,
Not a sound from the pavement,
Has the moon lost her memory?
She is shining alone….//
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Manhattan, January 2nd, 1899
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Duchess hadn't been able to find the lodging house the first day she had arrived. In fact, she hadn't even been able to find a single newsie. Perhaps the late night activities had been too much for them, so she had spent the night on the street. It didn't really matter to her though, she had done it before and she could do it again. The cold weather made it harder to wake up though it was noon when she finally was up and about.
Freezing cold, hungry, and not in a particularly good mood, Duchess headed out onto the streets. Scowling, she scanned the crowds, looking for someone that might be able to help her find the lodging house. Then she spotted someone it was a boy newsie. He wasn't that tall, but he was of stocky build with dark curly hair evident under his gray cap. Taking a deep breath she took a deep breath and approached him with confidence that would have made Spot Conlon jealous
"Hey boy," she called and he turned expectantly towards the voice.
"Buy a pape miss?" he raised his eyebrows hopefully and Duchess couldn't help but smile slightly. The large brown eyes that looked at her were innocent as she had once been, but Duchess suspected that this boy had an edge just like the rest.
"Nah, I don' wanna buy one," she shook her head slightly and the boy looked crestfallen. "I wanna sell dem," she informed and he looked back up at her and smiled.
"Yous wanna be a newsie?" he asked.
"Yeah," she was ready to defend her cause.
"A'ight," he nodded, seeming to accept the idea without another thought. "Ya evah sold afore?" At this question, Duchess snorted in disgust and the boy backed off. "Well, yous can sell wit' me taday," he offered and Duchess looked at him skeptically. "Common," he offered her a few of his papers.
"Are yous jus' goin' ta give dem to me?" Duchess arched one eyebrow.
"Shuah," the boy extended his arm with the papers and Duchess eyed them suspiciously. "Jus' take dem," the boy gave an exasperated sigh and Duchess took them hesitantly.
"Is'll pay yous back," she promised and the boy merely shrugged before returning to his selling.
Over the course of the day, Duchess found out that the boy's name was Mush, or at least that was his selling name. Never once did she disclose any information about herself, but Mush seemed content with this. When their papers were gone, which was in about an hour, Mush looked up at the sky.
"It's gettin' late," he pointed out. "Ya wanna go get s'moah papes, oah call it a day?" he asked, putting his hands of his hips.
"It's youah money," she reminded and Mush looked at her with a goofy grin on his face.
"Yous right!" he exclaimed, he seemed to have just realized this. "I says dat we'se go back ta da lodgin' house," he started walking and Duchess simply followed. "Yous gonna love it heah," Mush promised. "All da oder goils ah real nice," he informed and an understanding struck Duchess. The reason that this boy had been so accepting to the fact that she was a newsie was that here in Manhattan. The way had already been made.
Upon arrival, it was clear that this place was definitely not in the best condition, upkeep wise. The dilapidated green sign with gold letters proclaiming the status of the building looked ready to fall apart. The cement stairs that lead to the door were cracked, and crumbling, and the door itself was in ill repair. Though, through all of the shortcomings of the building, there was something very welcoming about it.
Perhaps it was the soft glow through the dirty window, or the sounds of voices raised in jest that echoed through the door. Maybe it was the tales that Mush had been relating about all of the boys. Though she hadn't really been listening, each one of them sounded like they were going to be very different from what she was used to. It all could have been accredited to the fact that Duchess always looked forward to the idea of forging a new name for her.
All of it was a game to her, seeing who she could fool the longest and how long she could fool herself into believing that she really was who she made herself to be. The idea was childish, fickle even, but she enjoyed the chance to escape from who she really was. For when she remembered whom she was that the nightmares returned.
The warped old door was pushed open by Mush and the gentle glow became brighter and the warmth that had reflected in its color was transformed into a wonderful reality. As the heat wrapped itself around her like a delicious blanket, Duchess let her tense shoulders relax against the wonderful feeling. Greetings were called out from different parts of the room as their friend entered. Somehow, this almost felt like a home.
"Hey Mush, who's da broad?" Called a boy with dark brown hair and a cigarette hanging from in between two fingers.
"Dis heah is, uh…" Mush started, then realized that he didn't know her name. Turning to her, Mush saw that his formally relaxed companion was nearly livid with anger.
"Did yous jus' call me a broad?" She growled out to the boy across the room and he looked surprised at the challenge.
"I called ya whot I called ya," he took a long drag off of his cigarette and blew out the smoke in a slow deliberate breath.
"Den why don' ya get up of youah ass an' say it ta me face," She challenged and the boys large brown eyes grew even larger as the whole room gasped.
The challenged boy didn't say anything but looked at her for awhile, seeming to invite her to back down or withdraw her invitation for a fight, but she didn't. So with very exaggerated motions, he handed his cigarette to the boy next to him, and stood ever so slowly. It was then that Duchess thought she might have made a mistake. Surely this boy was one of the taller she had seen in the newsie ranks, and she sized him up quickly. Taking off his cap, he tossed it to the side and came to face off with the pint-sized girl who had insulted him.
"I'se up," he looked down at her, obviously trying to intimidate her with his superior size. "Now whot yous goin' ta do 'bout it?"
Holding up her hand to gesture that she needed a few moments, she pulled off her coat, hat, scarf, and gloves, tossing them all to the side and then cracking her knuckles slowly. Shaking her head so that her long braid fell down her back, she brushed a few stray strands away from her face. Then with a very impish smile, she looked up at him and batted her eyelashes in a flirt like manner before launching out her fist into his gut, catching him off guard.
A loud noise of the air leaving his lungs sounded and then the sickening sound of fists making contact with flesh. Perhaps he had been the one to misread this girl as she had come in. She packed a mean punch for someone so petite. When he gained back his wits, he straightened and began to fight back. She could take hits just as well as she could deliver them. The hits she took though were indirect as she seemed to be expert at dodging and blocking. The fight didn't last any longer than a few minutes when an older man and a tall boy broke into the ring that had formed around them.
"Help me get them, Cowboy!" the old man said and the tall boy grabbed Duchess, tearing her away from the taller boy.
"Easy Snoddy," The boy, labeled Cowboy instructed and the taller boy shot him a murderous glance, but it softened quickly. "Whot's dis heah fight alla 'bout?" he demanded and the whole room fell silent. "Ain't nobody gots nuttin' ta say?" He challenged, as he stood between the two, Kloppman by his side.
"Snoddy called da goil a broad an' she gots him ta fight," offered one girl, who was strangely tall and lanky for a female.
"Did yous staht da fight?" Cowboy asked Duchess and she looked at him, her eyes shooting fire.
"I wos protectin' me honah," she said haughtily.
"Yeah, well, ya see dere ain't no fightin' in da lodgin' house," The tall Cowboy explained, looking at her with his strange hazel eyes. "If yous gots somet'ing ta settle ya gotta do it outside."
"Says who?" Duchess challenged and the Cowboy pointed to the old man by his side.
"Kloppman heah says so," he told her. "He owns dis joint."
"Yeah, so who ah yous ta be tellin' me whot ta do?" She challenged.
"Da name's Kelly, Jack Kelly," he introduced himself by spitting in his hand and extending it. "Who ah yous?" he asked as she spat in her own hand and shook his.
"I ain't got one dat I cahah ta shah," she made it a half-lie. "I ain't too fond o' da name me pahents gave me," she confided. "My ma gave me her name, but she's out west," she lied again, already setting up her false background with a well-practiced ease.
"Youah pahents ah out west?" Jack's eyebrows rose and his eyes flashed with interest. "Wheah out west?" he prompted and the boys around him groaned, apparently they had heard this before.
"Uh, dey weah goin' ta…" she thought hard for a name of anything 'out west.' "Santa Fe," she made up quickly, having heard the name and hoped that it was right. The way that this Cowboy's eyes shone when she said that told her that she had picked the right destination.
"Have yous evah been out dere?" Jack asked excitedly.
"Nah," she shook her head. "I wos stayin' wit' me aunt till dey comes back, but me aunt is somet'ing of a witch," she added to her story. "So I'se a newsie now," she tilted her head to one side, looking at him curiously. "Why ah yous so intahested in Santa Fe?" Duchess asked coyly and the way the boys around her rolled her eyes told her that this was old news.
"I'se goin' ta live dere someday," Jack said confidently. "It's da place wheah dreams come true."
"So is dat why dey call yous Cowboy?" she questioned.
"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged, smiling.
"So I guess dat makes me a cowgoil," she reasoned and Jack looked at her curiously.
"A cowgoil?" he said it like the word was completely foreign in his mind, which it was. Back then, the woman took care of the homestead on the ranch, but not the animals. That was the man's job, a cowgirl was such an outrageous idea that it left him slightly flabbergasted.
"Yeah, an' dats whot yous can call me," she smiled in a flirt-like manner. "Cowgoil."
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//In the lamplight,
The withered leaves,
Collect at my feet,
And the wind begins to moan…//
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So the Cowgirl of Manhattan was born, and the group, boys and girls alike quickly accepted her. Only a few of the group didn't seem to like this quick-witted, flirty, spirited girl. One of which, and probably was the one that held the only real animosity to her, was Snoddy.
The first impression she had left on him had come in she shape of a series of bruises, on his body and his pride. As many know, it is dangerous to damage the pride of a man. The others that didn't seem to care for her were Bumlets, Jake, Skittery, Swifty, and Kid Blink and Racetrack's would be girlfriends, Snaps and Cards. Though Kid Blink and Racetrack took favor to the girl, the others on the list looked for any possible reason to dislike the new girl.
Two weeks had passed since her initial arrival and Cowgirl wasn't oblivious to the gossip that was flying around about her in that certain circle. Though, she knew it could be her undoing in the end, she could always run again. There were still other options as to where she could go if Manhattan fell through. The time for thinking about running was far from her now. This was the time for becoming the character she had already created. The illusion known as Cowgirl.
What an illusion it was, too. Easily, she had slipped into the fake world she had created. Drawing up her walls around her and blocking out any real chance at caring. Though she appeared to honestly care, things are rarely, possible never as they seem.
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//Memory,
All alone in the moonlight,
I can smile at the old days,
I was beautiful then…//
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Walking back to the lodging house under the cover of darkness, Cowgirl couldn't help but shiver against the late January cold. The pale light from the full moon above shone down upon the streets as she trudged on through the sludge. The two pieces of coal mounted in her face glittered in the dim lamplight as homeless children could be seen trying to find a place to sleep for the night. A few drunkards stumbled down the streets, singing an off key melody to which they didn't know the words. When these came past, she would duck into an alley or a shadow until they had passed. This action was practically habitual now as she had been living on the streets for several of her years.
Sadness could be seen in those eyes, as black as the night that surrounded her. Strange that she would think of such things now, things of her past. The cities she had known and left. Two different places beside New York had known her presence. Richmond, Virginia and Trenton, New Jersey, obviously she favored capitals. Though New York City wasn't the capital of the state of New York, it might as well have been.
Sighing, she thought of her times in the other places, and of her home in Virginia. Wondering, she pondered about the places she had known in her youth and wondered what they would look like if she returned. Most likely things would be much altered. Coming up to the lodging house, she readied herself to go inside and perform. For it was moments like these, when she could pretend she was someone else, that she felt the most alive. Maybe it was because the girl she had been had died a long with her past.
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//I remember the time,
I knew what happiness was,
Let the memory,
Live again…//
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Jack smiled when the girl came in. True she was no beauty, but she was street smart and sassy and he enjoyed that. If nothing else she was a good friend. Though if she was just a friend, why did he care when she flirted with the other boys? Brushing the thought aside, he called her over to the crate where he sat with some of the others playing poker. It was a different kind of poker that he had never played before, but Race insisted that it was better than the usual kind.
As she walked over with that confident smile on her heart-shaped mouth and a mischievous twinkle in her black eyes, Jack grinned and forgot to listen to the instructions Race was giving. As she sat next to him, she quickly picked up on what Race was saying and didn't even give a greeting to the Cowboy at her side. This annoyed him, but he pushed it from his mind, maybe she wanted to learn this game that he was supposed to be learned.
"So da cahds up in da middle ah called da flop," Race was explaining and something shifted in Cowgirl's eyes.
"Ah yous playin' Hell Knows?" she asked and Race looked at her questioningly.
"Ya mean Hold 'em? He asked and she shook her head.
"I loyned dis one called Hell Knows an' I t'ink it's da same t'ing," she went over and sat by the baffled Racetrack. "Heah, I'se a bettah teachah dan yous an' if I'se teachin' a differ'nt game, yous can stop me," she offered Racetrack nodded, handing her the cards.
So Cowgirl took them and began to explain the game. It turned out that Hell Knows and Hold 'Em were two in the same, and Racetrack was quite excited by the idea that someone else knew the game. The game was played in rounds. In the first, two cards were dealt face down to each player, then a round of betting takes place. The second round is where three cards, which can be used by anyone, are dealt face up in the middle of the playing surface. Another round of betting occurs before one more card is dealt face-up followed by more betting and the fifth and final face-up card is dealt. One more round of betting happens before all of the players use the two cards in the hand and whatever cards they chose in the center to make the best possible three card hand.
Racetrack won.
"Yous jus' won cause you knows da game," Kid Blink mumbled as Racetrack collected his money.
"I'se can help da fact dat I'se got bettah brains dan yous," Racetrack gloated and Cowgirl giggled.
"So, Cowgoil, wheah'd ya loin ta play dis heah game?" Jack asked, curious.
"What?" she swiveled her head away from the flirty conversation she had been having with Snitch.
"Wheah'd ya loin ta play dis game?" he asked again, patiently.
"Oh, I picked it up somewhere, I don't remember where," she waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss it, but Jack caught something that no one else seemed to. The question had caught her off guard and she seemed to completely lose her Brooklyn accent.
"A'ight," he didn't point it out right then, but he knew that sometime he would have to talk to her about that. It was possible that she had been taught to speak properly, but reverted to the street speak to fit in. Or she could be from somewhere completely different than New York all together.
"So, who's up foah anoddah round?" she asked quickly, sensing a lull in the conversation.
"I'se in," Jack said readily.
"I'se out," Kid Blink shoved away from the makeshift table muttering something about losing all of his money and Cowgirl and Racetrack both started laughing.
This time, the game went more smoothly than before, now that everyone was better aquatinted with the rules. More than once Cowgirl had seen Jack looking at her with an unusual stare over the top of his cards, like he was trying to read her mind. The look was rather unnerving and made her very uncomfortable. Though she didn't show it, she was silently wishing Jack and his piercing hazel eyes to the bottom of the ocean.
After the final round of betting took place, the cards were shone to show that Racetrack had ruled victorious yet again. With a wide smile, he collected every cent that was meant for him oblivious to the grumbling around him. The option for another round of the game was open, but Cowgirl stood and smiled warmly, excusing herself. Though he wanted to talk with her, Jack stayed for one for round of the game.
"I knows why yous like dis heah game," Boots said to Racetrack as he observed from the side.
"Why's dat?" Race asked, lighting up what remained of his only cigar.
"It's fastah dan noymal pokah, an' yous can gets money fastah," Boots dark eyes flashed with merriment at the well-intended jibe and the circle of boys laughed merrily. All of them laugh, except for one that is. He was watching a girl across the room who was having a lively conversation with a boy with an eye patch.
He wasn't the only one watching the new girl and the boy converse. A pair of girls watched from the other side of the room, murder flashing in their eyes. One was strangely tall for a girl, probably over five foot eight, with short brown hair and eyes that matched. The other girl wasn't short, but she wasn't as tall as her friend. Her lively green eyes shone as she brushed back her dirty-blonde hair from them.
"Who does dis goil t'ink she is?" the taller one asked. "She can' jus come in heah an' floyt wit' whotevah boy she wonts ta," she folded her arms across her chest and Cowgirl stole Blink's hat and darted of with it.
"Yous right, Snaps," the shorter one agreed. "Did yous see da way she wos talkin' wit' me Race?" she snorted.
"Who cahahs 'bout Race, she jus' be playin' cahds wit' him," Snaps pointed out. "But looks how she's playin' wit' Blink!"
"Da goil musta been a whore afore she came heah," the shorter one growled and an evil light came into Snaps eyes.
"A whore, ya say?" Snaps smiled wickedly. "Whot if we'se could prove dat she wos a whore afore she came heah?"
"Whot?" The other exclaimed.
"Quiet Cahds, ya want evahybody ta heah?" Snaps motioned for her friend to keep her voice down. "But whot if we'se did?"
"If we'se made it so Cowgoil was a whore?" Cards frowned.
"Yeah, all we'se gotta do is find some goil dat is an' find out how who ta ask 'bout her," Snaps nodded eagerly as if to affirm her own plan. "You knows how much dese boys don' like whores," she smiled impishly and realization seemed to dawn on Cards.
"Ya mean like yous want her ta get kicked out?" Cards' eyes widened.
"Yeah," Snaps smiled and Cards seemed to think about it.
"Whot if we'se get caught?" Cards hesitated.
"Get caught doin' whot?" Snaps asked, incredulous.
"I dunno, talkin' ta one o' da street walkahs," she shrugged.
"We'se talk moah 'bout dis latah," Snaps looked over at Cowgirl as Blink still was chasing her, trying to get his hat back. "But we'se goin' ta talk 'bout it," she promised, her eyes darkening with jealousy.
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//Every street lamp,
Seems to beat,
A fatalistic,
Warning…//
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A week or so past before Jack found a time to talk to Cowgirl about the slip of tongue. Medda was performing and he had invited her to go with him. The freshly fallen snow crunched under their feet as they walked in silence, neither one really knowing what to say. The street lamps flickered with a strange rhythm, casting waving shadows on the walls as they walked. Finally Jack broke the silence.
"Yous cold?" he asked politely.
"Nah, I'se a'ight," she smiled and they both continued walking, searching for something, anything to say.
Being unsure of how to bring up the topic that he wanted to, Jack stayed silent. Though his suspicion was unfounded and he really didn't have anything to suspect, he knew that she had slipped out of the common street accent. Even if had just been for a few instants, she had done so. Over and over he tried to figure out a way to rephrase the question so that it actually made sense. He still hadn't come up with anything when they came to the back entrance of the theater.
"In heah," he motioned and opened the door, Cowgirl sipped inside before him and he followed, closing the door behind him.
"What are you doing back here?" Came a soft feminine voice. "Get out!" a lively woman with bright red curls came down from her perch at the top of the stairs and Jack only smiled, stepping out of the shadows.
"I hoyd dat yous got a new show Medda," he started smoothly. "So I'se come ta watch da best perfoahmah in alla New Yawk," he complimented with a large smiled and the woman giggled as if she was a young girl.
"Oh Kelly," she said and Cowgirl watched this scene from the shadow with interest. "You always were the charmer," she started down the stairs and Jack met her half way, kissing her hand in a most debonair fashion.
"I brought a friend wit' me," Jack said, straightening as he escorted her down the stairs.
"A friend?" Medda arched a thin eyebrow and Jack beckoned for Cowgirl to come over, and she stepped out of the shadows. "Oh," Medda smiled knowingly. "That kind of friend," she cast a coy look in Jack's direction Cowgirl could have sworn he had blushed then. "Welcome," Medda turned to the girl and extended her hand that held a large blue plume.
"Cowgirl, dis heah is Medda Lahkson, da best perfoahmah on da stage taday," he boasted and Cowgirl guessed that if she hadn't been wearing so much make-up, she would have been visibly blushing. "Medda, dis heah is me friend an da newest o' da Manhattan newsies, Cowgoil."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, smiling genuinely and Cowgirl relaxed slightly.
"So, Medda, ya t'ink we'se can stay an' see yous tanight?" Jack pleaded jokingly and Medda looked at him with a stern face but her eyes were smiling.
"Maybe if you get on your knees and ask me nicely," she answered swiftly and Jack got down on bended knee and looked up at her with the utmost devotion and loyalty.
"Miss. Lahkson," he began. "Would yous be so kind ta grant me an' my friend heah a place ta see youah beautiful self perfoahm youah wondahful show?" he asked with greatly overacted humility and Cowgirl had a hard time not laughing.
"You forgot to say please," Medda prompted and Jack tilted his head to one side and looked up at her, with the most innocent look in his eyes.
"Please?" he asked, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.
"All right," Medda agreed and Jack stood with a victorious smile on his face. Apparently this was a game that they played regularly. "You can watch from back here," Medda promised. "It's a full house out there tonight," she winked at Jack. "I have to go get ready, but make yourself at home," she smiled and with that turned and walked back up the stairs to what seemed to be her dressing room.
"So whot do ya t'ink o' her?" Jack asked Cowgirl once Medda had disappeared.
"She's differ'nt ain't she?" Cowgirl smiled when Jack laughed at her observation.
"Yeah, dere ain't nobody like Medda," he agreed and then reached over and took Cowgirl's hand in his own. "Common, Is'll show ya 'round."
So he did just that. It was early enough that the house hadn't been opened yet and the entire theater was empty. Except for the ushers that were waiting for the people to be allowed in. A man dressed as a clown wandered the isles aimlessly, holding a tray of treats and things that the people enjoying the show could purchase. A walking snack bar if you will.
Different things were going on backstage as the crew worked furiously making sure that everything was in place for the big debut. Stepping out onto the wooden planks that made up the stage, Jack still held Cowgirl's hand as they stood and viewed the large auditorium. The musicians in the music pit were warming up, and the whole place seemed to hum with energy. As they moved, Jack saw something that made him smile as an idea began to brew in his mind.
"Come heah," he pulled on her hand gently and led her over to a certain place on the stage. Bending over, he looked around to make sure no one was watching before reaching his fingers down into a few cracks in the boards and lifting. To Cowgirl's great surprise, it lifted with much ease, showing a trapdoor. With a wry grin, Jack took her hand again and pulled her down into the area under the stage with him before quickly shutting the door over them.
The place under the stage was a narrow, short space that forced you to bend over to walk. A few lamps lined the walkway, which was basically a clear space between several of the wooden supports that kept the stage from collapsing. The old wooden floor underneath looked worn and in sore need for repair, but it was rather exhilarating to be underneath the stage. Strange as that seemed, perhaps it was the rush of knowing that they could get caught, or the idea of doing something they had never done before. Whatever it was, it was fun and even in the pale lamplight, it was evident on their faces. They were having fun.
"I'se nevah been down heah," Jack confided as he looked around from his squat position.
"I'se nevah been ta a theahtah," Cowgirl replied.
"Well it ain't dat great," Jack smiled. "But it's okay mosta da time."
"Yeah," Cowgirl said rather awkwardly, not sure what else to say.
"Well," Jack said after a long moment. "We'se should pro'ly get up dere afore the show stahts," he suggested and Cowgirl nodded. Just as they were about to lift up the door again, the first strains of the music could be heard and the roar of the crowd as the show began.
"Shit," Cowgirl muttered and Jack began to laugh, muffling it behind his hand. "We'se stuck down heah," she hissed, careful not to speak too loud.
"Nah, dere's gotta be anoddah way ta get outta heah," Jack insisted and reached for her hand again. "Common," he beckoned with his head and he moved along the way of the lamps. Through the cramped space, they practically crawled along, hoping to find an exit at the end of the tunnel. Above them, the steps of the performers could be heard along with their singing and the song from the music pit. As they moved along, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath them, Cowgirl listened to the sounds floating above them. The tune was soft a song about heartbreak, and it was decidedly beautiful in her mind. So lost in the music was she, that she nearly screamed when one of the boards beneath her snapped and her foot fell through. Expertly, she clamped her mouth shut just before the shrill noise escaped.
"Shit," she opted for soft swearing over the shout.
"Whot did yous do?" Jack hissed, turning around and letting go of her hand.
"Me foot is stuck in da floah," Cowgirl pointed and even in the dim light it was clear that it was definitely jammed.
"How'd ya do dat?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the music above them.
"Don' ask me, it jus' happened," she returned and looked him in the eyes. It was clear that a plan was already forming behind those piercing hazel orbs.
"Can yous pull it out?" he asked and she tried again, only to find that it caused her more pain.
"No," she shook her head and above the crowd burst into applause. She tried again, but nothing happened. "Could ya try an pull it out?" she asked once the noise of the clapping had receded.
"Not wit'out makin' a helluva noise," Jack grumbled, sitting and leaning against one of the poles near her as the next song struck up. This one was a livelier dance tune.
Silence passed between them as they both tried to think of a way to free her foot. Again and again, Cowgirl tried different angles to loose her foot just a little, but nothing worked. Finally, she managed to twist her leg so that with one good pull, she might be able to yank it out. Making a few low noises, she got his attention and jerked her head so that he would come closer to her.
"When da crowd claps again, pull me leg as hahd as yous can," she instructed and Jack looked at her worriedly.
"Is it goin' ta hoyt yous?" he asked.
"Don' mattah if it hoyts me, I'se pro'ly been hoyt woise," she informed and motioned for him to go down and grip her lower calf. "Jus' do it," she whispered and Jack looked at her strangely, wrapping his large hands around her thin leg.
Just as she had instructed, when the crowd began to clap, Jack yanked her leg and she let out an audible yelp as her foot jerked free and she toppled backwards. The sudden release of her foot had jarred Jack as well and made him lose his not very well-established balance. Falling forward he landed on top of her and both made a loud grunting noise. Thankfully, the lout applause from the crowd covered it. Propping himself up on his hands, Jack looked down at the girl beneath him worriedly.
"Ah yous a'ight?" he asked quickly, her only response was a little giggle.
She must have been all right if she was giggling. Uncomfortable with the position that the sudden freedom had brought upon them, Jack hurried to pull himself away from her. Even if he didn't think he had any real intentions for her, he couldn't help but be what he was, and that was a man. Any situation with a girl underneath him had only led to trouble before and something told him it wouldn't stop with this girl. True, he was attracted to her, but that didn't mean anything, did it?
Brushing himself off, he watched as she sat up looking slightly dazed. Raising a hand to the back of her head, she mouthed the word 'ow'. Maybe she wasn't as all right as he had thought. Reaching out to her again, he took her hand and they made their way down the way again, careful to avoid the hole that she had created. Finally they found the end after was seemed a short eternity and there was a small door waiting. As slowly as could be, Jack eased open the latch and opened it. A small squeak was the only protest it offered when he did so.
Together they stepped out into what seemed to be a backstage area and shut the small door behind them. It was relieving to stand and stretch their muscles, especially for the tall Jack. When they were out, Cowgirl let out a long sigh and stood very slowly. The soft sound of her exhaling brought Jack's attention to her hastily.
"You a'ight?" he asked again, concerned.
"Yeah, jus' a lil' dizzy," she smiled weakly. "Dat tends ta happen when ya ain't been eatin' too good," she joked but Jack frowned.
"When wos da last time yous ate?" he asked, almost sounding like her older brother might have.
"Two days ago, maybe t'ree," she figured, but her head really hurt from hitting it on the floor.
"Dats too long," Jack speculated. "Tibbys should still be open…" he let his thought drift off, and she looked at him sternly.
"I ain't got no money foah food an' I ain't taken no charity," she still had some fire in her after all and it made Jack smile.
"I ain't given it," he shot back quickly.
"But I'se goin' ta watch da show," Cowgirl insisted and tried to move over to the place where she could see the stage, but Jack caught her around the waist with an arm.
"Is'll bring ya back any time yous want," he promised. "But we'se gunna go eat now," he took his arm from around her waist and put it around her shoulders, guiding her smoothly to the door.
The proposition of food sounded too good to argue much longer, so Cowgirl gave in and followed his lead. After they were redressed for the winter weather, they progressed into the cold night streets. It took about twenty minutes to walk to Tibbys, but they got there, and the warm light from the windows looked very inviting. When they were seated in one of the booths, Jack looked across at the girl opposite him.
"Ohdah whotevah yous wont," he told her plainly.
"Is'll pay yous back," she promised and he shook his head.
"Dis is a gift," he smiled crookedly. "But if yous really wanna pay me, Is'll let me," he said it as a joke and Cowgirl knew that he wouldn't ever take back any of the money.
"If yous don' lemme pay yous back, I ain't gunna eat," she threatened, but even with the faint smell of food wafting into her nostrils, her constitution was already wavering.
"Yous gunna eat," Jack smiled and she snorted.
"Whot makes yous so shuah?" she asked and he looked up as the waiter came over to take their order. Jack ordered for both of them.
"Yous gunna eat cause I'se ohdahed youah food," he said simply, taking a drink from the glass that the waiter had set in front of him.
"A'ight," she remembered what character she played and smiled sweetly. "Is'll eat it," she was thankful that she had decided to play a girl who was feisty, but sometimes docile.
"Good," Jack smiled again, but his smile was quickly erased as he remembered the real reason he had brought her out this night. So absorbed had he been in the fun they had been having, he had completely forgotten that he was going to ask her about the slipping from different accents.
It pro'ly wos nuttin', he reasoned. I pro'ly jus' hoyd wrong. Anyway, whot's I gunna ask her? He wondered. So, why'd ya talk all hoity-toity da oder night when yous weah playin' cahds? He shook his head, knowing how stupid he sounded.
"Jack?" her voice snapped him back into reality. "Ah yous a'ight?" she asked the same question back to him.
"Huh?" he asked, adjusting his train of thought. "Oh yeah, I'se fine," he grinned wryly and she smiled back.
"Whot weah yous t'inkin' 'bout?" she asked and his mind raced.
It's now oah nevah, he told himself. Ask her now!
"I wos jus' wond'rin'," he paused. "How long it'll take foah oah food ta get out heah," he lied, and mentally began to curse. He had choked, but she smiled sweetly, probably believing what he had told her.
Jack never talked to her about that one incident, in fact, he never even thought seriously about bringing it up again. The event was over and he hadn't ever heard her speak that way again, so what was the cause to bring it up? Probably, he had just heard wrong. Something was very unnerving about this girl though. If she had been anyone else, he probably would have confronted her the instant she had done it, not waited a week and taken her out to talk about it. Was he so desperate to spend time with her alone, away from the other boys of the lodging house? No, he told himself, it couldn't have been that. Even thought he enjoyed her company, her quick-wit, her flirting, the way her hair shone in the light, or the way her smile seemed to light up her eyes…. No, it was nothing more than a friendship, wasn't it?
The question he was asking himself would be answered on the way back to the lodging house as they walked together under the night sky. It was strange how the moonlight could play with your senses, wasn't it? Neither one were quite sure how it happened, but neither one objected when they were wrapped in each other's arms. Gently, Jack kissed her, almost testing to see if she was willing. The result was her arms wrapping around his neck, drawing him closer and pressuring the kiss. The effect was numbing to the senses, as the stars seemed to fall from the sky and swirl behind their closed eyes. Exploding as they crashed into each other with terrible force, making the pair feel rather breathless.
Slowly, he pulled back, and looked into her eyes before taking her hand in his and walking down the street thought the cold night air together. Strange how the cold didn't seem to penetrate them as it had before. Also, it was strange how the ground didn't seem as solid as it had been before. Maybe the sky had fallen, because it sure felt like they were walking on air.
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Daylight,
I must wait for the morning,
I must think of the new life,
And I mustn't give in…//
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Manhattan, May 1899
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Day after glorious day passed as the couple became more and more inseparable. The two went on many rowdy escapades and caused the DeLanceys and the bulls more trouble than they had ever done before alone. Every day they seemed to have something new and different to talk about or some different episode to speak of. Strangely, through all of these different spots in time, the Cowboy never took his Cowgirl back to the theater. This didn't seem to matter though as they were having far too much fun in other activities to really care.
Even the best of stories must come to an end though, and sadly, so did this one. Snaps and Cards planted seeds in the minds of the boys, convincing them of the evils of this new girl. Though none of them had been able to validate these claims of the terrible wrongs this strange new Cowgirl had committed, the human mind tends to play tricks and make things larger than they truly were. Such was the case, as the gossip-mill served its wicked way and made everything much more complicated.
To say that the duo was completely oblivious to these events would be a lie, for they were quite aware. Acceptance, though, was a completely different issue. Slowly but surely, the welcome that had been so ready for Cowgirl became dim then disappeared. Would-be friends vanished, avoiding her all together, and Cowgirl was faced with another decision.
The acceptance that everyone craved was found only through the leader of the group and Cowgirl knew the precarious position in which this would put him. It could turn the whole group against him, and Jack loved being the leader. He had forged friendships here, real friends, and things that weren't easily made and weren't easily replaced. She on the other hand, had woven a web of lies, making several enemies along the way.
Her path was clear, and she knew that it would be the only one that she could take. Any other one would have Jack's group turn against him, and that wouldn't do. He deserved better than that. Besides, he hadn't fallen for the girl that she really was, he had fallen for the girl that she had pretended to be. So came the fateful night that she confronted him, telling him that she was leaving.
A fight had ensued, both of their tempers flying off the handle. Tears were shed, names were called, and he accused her of never caring for him. The truth way that she had cared for him, Cowgirl had possible loved him, but the girl that she really was, didn't. A sad combinations of opposites that were held together by thin strings of lies. So was the story of her life, the strangeness and sadness that plagued her days were wrought of her own doings.
Feel sympathy for her if you like, pity her if you will, but know that all of this was brought forth by her own actions. If she realized this or not, it isn't for us to know, but she was most definitely responsible. The truth was that this girl was so caught up in her game, that it would take a terrible experience for her to see the wickedness of her ways. The terrible event that would be coming in her future and teach her to find a different way to hide from her pain. That, though, is for another time.
In the night after their argument, the Cowgirl waited for the whole lodging house to be quiet before she emerged from the shadows from where she had hidden. Creeping from behind the counter in the front entry, she silently moved up the stairs and even in the dark, she knew where Jack's bunk was. Stealthily maneuvering over the boards, avoiding the creaking ones she had come to know so well in the months she had spent there.
When she arrived, she moved slowly, careful not to wake him as she looked over his peaceful face. The anger that had been so apparent there only a few hours ago was washed away in sleep. Absently, she brushed back a strand of hair from his eyes and smiled softly before moving to finish her task. For all she knew that would be the last time she would see him, but she would always have something of him. Completing what she had stayed to do, she exited as silently as she had come, her presence almost like that of a ghost.
Opening the front door of the lodging house, she exited and walked down the street. A pack hanging on her back as she walked away from Manhattan, going to start a new life somewhere. In her hand she held the object for which she had stayed. The red fabric was old and dirty, the color faded by use, but it was still clear what she held. For even in the moonlight, one would see that she grasped a red bandana.
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Burnt out ends,
Of smoky days,
The stale cold smell
Of morning…//
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Coney Island, Sheepshead Races, March, 1900
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"Cowgoil?" A voice from her past startled Frost terribly as she whirled around to see someone she had least expected.
The piercing hazel eyes she had come to know so well stared at her with a terrible look of betrayal and disbelief. That same dark cowboy hat was on his head and she guessed that he still had that same goofy smile. His dirty blonde hair still fell into his eyes the same way it always had, and the only thing that had really altered in his dress was that the red bandana she had stolen wasn't around his neck. Though his face has matured, and he had grown taller, there was little different about the boy that Cowgirl had possibly loved.
After pausing for her inspection, Frost didn't wait for an instant. Turning, back around, she ran with all of her might. Though she wasn't sure where she was going, she ran and she heard footsteps behind her. Knowing who it was made her run all the faster, but something told her she had better find a way to outsmart them because she knew there was no way that she could outrun them.
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A/N: Did anyone else think that this chapter made Frost look like kind of a raging schizophrenic? Hmm… maybe that was just me, anyway, this kind of clears up what happened with Jack/Frost. I hope you all are happy. I'm not sure if I will ever clue Spot in on this whole situation, but I thought that you all should know since I've been talking about it like the whole time in my fiction. Ha, ha! Anyway, my eyes feel like they are bleeding, so I am going to write a few nice little notes to the people who love me, and then go to bed. Take care!
Ireland O'Reily: You were swearing? Uh oh, hopefully not with small children around. By reading my stories, you would probably be surprised to know that I don't curse, but my characters sure do! Ha, ha! Anyway, I think that I am going to finish these because I am getting death threats from some of my reads. -_^ And if I don't finish them, I won't be able to write anything else because of that stupid contact I signed to myself. "Thou shall not write anything else until you have finished these stories!" Dagnabbit, why did I have to put that little clause in there? . : * Sigh * : . Well, this sort of cleared up the whole Frost/Jack issue, but left you kind of wondering what was going to happen next. I hope you liked it. Take care. ^_^
Ice: I didn't really expect you to review my stories! I reviewed yours because I read it and I have this thing that if I read it, I review it. But I like your story and it is worth the time I spend reviewing. Don't feel obligated to read my stories if you don't want to, I really don't that to be the goal of this. I want people to read my words because they want to, not being they were obliged to! Ha, ha! Well, I'm glad that you have enjoyed this and I hope to see more of your story soon!
Skittles: Resorting to bribes to get me to write now, are we? Well, whatever story you post, I will be interested in seeing it. I promise to come and read and review. ^_^ Just because I am nice person and you are ever so nice to be faithful with your reviews. I've never seen LotR, but I've heard it is really good. I really like the books, but I am waiting for the third movie to come out before I watch any of them. Then I can watch the other two on video and then go see the third one. That way, I won't have to wait. ^_^ Aren't I smart? Well anyway, enough about me. Thank you for the review and for all of the support! I love ya man! (You: you can't have my budlight) Awe man!
Frenchy: Ah ha! I found one of those people that read my story and take me for granted and don't even bother to review! . : * tear * : . I'm glad that you are enjoying this story (and Blind Spot) even if you don't ever bother to review. An author's goal isn't to get as many reviews as possible, but to get the most out of the story. I'm sorry that I took so long getting this chapter up, but I hope it was worth the wait!
Fallen Phoenix: Ha, ha, well thank you for your review and for killing my chapter. It deserved to die a slow painful death. ^_^ Well, well, well, you already have another story in the cooker? Aren't you the ambitious one! Well I want to read more of that other story you were sending me, I want to know what happens with Emerald and everything! Me, co-write a story? Well, come to think of it, the idea never occurred to me. I would love to do it, but I can't now. As I explained to Red Cinnamon, I signed a contact to myself saying that I wouldn't write anything else while I was writing these two stories. Afterwards, however… who knows? I really hope to see more of your other story though, thanks for the review and take care!
Kaylee: Okay, well now you know the basic deal with Jack and Frost. Are you happy? Good! Thank you for your compliments on my writing. . : * Blushes * : . I am not worthy. Ha, ha, Spot the Hot that made me laugh so hard. You are a funny, funny girl. Don't worry about the reference to "You'll end up looking like Race over there." What Spot meant by that was he would beat whoever challenged him to a bloody pulp just like the nice little boy he is. ^_^ Race just happened to make him made and get in his way, but at least he was in the story, right?
Red Cinnamon: Oh, so you are an artist are you? Drawing little scenes from my stories. I am not sure if I should be flattered, or freaked out, but I will opt for the first. -_^ Well, now that I know that someone's life depends on me finishing my stories, I think will. Just for you, ha, ha! Feel special you silly person. Oh, I've got ideas for this story, it is just that I have ideas for about fifteen other stories that want to get out, but I signed a contract to myself saying that I would finish these first! Man, how disgusting is that? I made myself sign a contact to myself, I think I need some serious mental help…. And as for Spot getting better… you will just have to wait and see. [ insert evil laugh here ] -_^