The sudden docking of the boat pulled me back to reality. Glancing over the
railing, I could see New York Harbor in all its glorious commotion.
"Your luggage tag, Miss?" the steward asked as I stepped onto the dock.
"Oh yes, of course." I handed him a slip of paper. "Thank you."
While I waited patiently for him to return with my trunk, I watched the people that rushed passed me. Excitement surged through my veins. It had been six years since I last set foot on the busy streets of New York and the energy from the city was refreshing.
"Miss Spencer," a voice called, recapturing my attention, "is that really you?"
"Edgar!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around the old man in front of me, a butler who had worked for my parents for as long as I could remember.
"Turn around," he commanded, "let me have a look at you."
I spun in a slow circle, giving him the chance to soak in all of the changed in my appearance. I turned to a nearby shop window and inspected my reflection. The strawberry blonde hair that hung loosely around my shoulders as a child had turned the color of honey and was pulled into a proper bun. A slight crimson replaced the freckles that had painted my high cheekbones.
"You look like your mother did, when I first knew her," Edgar commented, quickly catching himself. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to --"
"It's alright," I assured him. "Come on, lets go home."
"Miss Belinda? Is that you?"
I ran into the kitchen, seeking the woman who had been a second mother to me. "Mrs. Paige! I have missed you."
An hour later, my trunks safely stored in my bedroom, I sat drinking tea with Mrs. Paige.
"So, how does it feel to be home, Belinda?" she asked, refilling my tea cup.
"Different," I replied, taking a small sip. After a moment of silence, I stood. "I think that I am going to go for a walk."
The neighborhood had changed significantly in the time that I had been away. New houses and factories sprang up everywhere, and all of the old decaying buildings had been torn down. The only place that hadn't changed entire city was Central Park. It still retained the same peace and beauty that I remembered from my youth, but now it seemed to have become something else. A safe haven; the only place of calm in a city of chaos.
I found a bench overlooking an open field. Two children played carelessly, tumbling on the grass. I watched them with a sad smile, scenes from my childhood flashing in my mind.
"Miss Spencer?"
I looked up to see Thomas Lawrence and his mother, friends of my parents, approaching on the path.
I nodded to them politely. "Mrs. Lawrence, Thomas, it is nice to see you again."
"I was very sorry to hear about your parents, my dear. How are you holding up?" Mrs. Lawrence inquired sweetly.
"As well as can be expected, Ma'am."
She nodded in understanding. "You will come to visit us now that you are back in town, won't you?"
The idea of spending too much time with any of my parent's friends, especially the Lawrences, made my stomach turn. In no mood to argue, I politely agreed and excused myself.
As I exited the park, someone tapped me on the shoulder. "Buy a paper, Miss?"
I turned to see a young man, about my age, holding a paper toward me. His small wire glasses and raggedy clothes once again brought back the memory of that afternoon when I was eleven. A tear started to roll down my cheek as an image of Gabriel watching the newsies flashed in the back of my mind.
"Miss, are you alright?" the newsie asked, his brown eyes full of concern.
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. Here you are." I handed him a dime. When he went to hand me change, I stopped him. "Please, keep it."
"Specs! Lets go! We're meeting the boys at Tibby's in five minutes," a blonde, glasses-clad newsie called from across the street.
"Keep ya shirt on, Dutchy. I'm commin!"
As I watched the pair vanish into the crowded street, I heard avoice in the back of my mind. 'I'll be one of them someday'.
It suddenly occurred to me that if Gabe had stayed in New York, I would find him among the newsies.
"Your luggage tag, Miss?" the steward asked as I stepped onto the dock.
"Oh yes, of course." I handed him a slip of paper. "Thank you."
While I waited patiently for him to return with my trunk, I watched the people that rushed passed me. Excitement surged through my veins. It had been six years since I last set foot on the busy streets of New York and the energy from the city was refreshing.
"Miss Spencer," a voice called, recapturing my attention, "is that really you?"
"Edgar!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around the old man in front of me, a butler who had worked for my parents for as long as I could remember.
"Turn around," he commanded, "let me have a look at you."
I spun in a slow circle, giving him the chance to soak in all of the changed in my appearance. I turned to a nearby shop window and inspected my reflection. The strawberry blonde hair that hung loosely around my shoulders as a child had turned the color of honey and was pulled into a proper bun. A slight crimson replaced the freckles that had painted my high cheekbones.
"You look like your mother did, when I first knew her," Edgar commented, quickly catching himself. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to --"
"It's alright," I assured him. "Come on, lets go home."
"Miss Belinda? Is that you?"
I ran into the kitchen, seeking the woman who had been a second mother to me. "Mrs. Paige! I have missed you."
An hour later, my trunks safely stored in my bedroom, I sat drinking tea with Mrs. Paige.
"So, how does it feel to be home, Belinda?" she asked, refilling my tea cup.
"Different," I replied, taking a small sip. After a moment of silence, I stood. "I think that I am going to go for a walk."
The neighborhood had changed significantly in the time that I had been away. New houses and factories sprang up everywhere, and all of the old decaying buildings had been torn down. The only place that hadn't changed entire city was Central Park. It still retained the same peace and beauty that I remembered from my youth, but now it seemed to have become something else. A safe haven; the only place of calm in a city of chaos.
I found a bench overlooking an open field. Two children played carelessly, tumbling on the grass. I watched them with a sad smile, scenes from my childhood flashing in my mind.
"Miss Spencer?"
I looked up to see Thomas Lawrence and his mother, friends of my parents, approaching on the path.
I nodded to them politely. "Mrs. Lawrence, Thomas, it is nice to see you again."
"I was very sorry to hear about your parents, my dear. How are you holding up?" Mrs. Lawrence inquired sweetly.
"As well as can be expected, Ma'am."
She nodded in understanding. "You will come to visit us now that you are back in town, won't you?"
The idea of spending too much time with any of my parent's friends, especially the Lawrences, made my stomach turn. In no mood to argue, I politely agreed and excused myself.
As I exited the park, someone tapped me on the shoulder. "Buy a paper, Miss?"
I turned to see a young man, about my age, holding a paper toward me. His small wire glasses and raggedy clothes once again brought back the memory of that afternoon when I was eleven. A tear started to roll down my cheek as an image of Gabriel watching the newsies flashed in the back of my mind.
"Miss, are you alright?" the newsie asked, his brown eyes full of concern.
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. Here you are." I handed him a dime. When he went to hand me change, I stopped him. "Please, keep it."
"Specs! Lets go! We're meeting the boys at Tibby's in five minutes," a blonde, glasses-clad newsie called from across the street.
"Keep ya shirt on, Dutchy. I'm commin!"
As I watched the pair vanish into the crowded street, I heard avoice in the back of my mind. 'I'll be one of them someday'.
It suddenly occurred to me that if Gabe had stayed in New York, I would find him among the newsies.