(A Flashback)
It does not usually drop to 60 degrees in August in New York. Yet, with suitcase in hand, I climbed the steps to the Newsboys Lodging House porch, taking in cool air.
I rang the bell gingerly and waited for my uncle to answer it. I took a moment to observe the surroundings. Everything, from the Lodging House sign to the wagons and passing carriages to the passers-by, was stained with soot and brown dust from the road. No newsboys were around; I supposed they were all out doing their jobs.
I was watching a young woman wander around aimlessly, when-
"Eh-you-you arr...?" A wrinkled old man with round spectacles and no teeth appeared inside the building. He looked so harmless and agreeable that I knew at once that I liked him.
"Hello! I believe I'm your grandniece. Katie Rose, I'm called." I set down my suitcase and extended a hand to him. The wrinkled old man looked surprised, but pleased, and shook it heartily.
"And yer here now - all-all the way from Boston, is it?"
"Yes, and I AM very glad to be here."
This seemed to suit him very well, and he let out a delighted laugh that filled the whole foyer and somehow made it seem brighter.
"Eh, come on, lemme show ya' 'round," he offered, and shuffled away from the doorway. I removed my bonnet and followed him. Deeper into the entrance way stood a large counter with books and papers all scattered untidily about. There were a few wooden chairs nearby, and a staircase that looked rather untrustworthy. Overhead hung a small ceiling fan, and all over the floor were scattered random articles of clothing, a cigar, a razor, and (although it seemed very out-of-place) a pocketwatch with a gold chain.
My uncle scratched his head and turned to me sheepishly. "Hard ta keep it clean, what wit all the boys livin' heah."
I smiled warmly as I flicked off a spider that had landed on my arm. "Oh, that's alright, I think it's charming. Quite different from anything I'm used to."
"Ha! Nothin' to yer aunt's house, I'd bet. Eh, how is Maimee, the ole' girl?"
A loud startling squeak came from the doorhinge, and -
"Heya, Kloppman! Say, you seen my-"
A dark-haired, round-faced, vertically-challenged boy clad in a brown-and- tan-checkered vest and a cabby hat swept through the doorway and into the room where Uncle Kloppman and I stood. He was apparently in a hurry, but stopped short when he noticed me. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Kloppman spoke.
"Eh - come 'ere, boy! Come on, come an' meet 'her." He motioned for the boy to come nearer the big counter.
"Hi," he muttered, frowning at me.
"Hi," I replied, smiling. I waited for him to smile back, but...no such luck. He just kept staring at me.
We shook hands. Uncle Kloppman looked from the boy to me expectantly. "Well?" he shouted, as though we were hard of hearing. "Aren'tcha' gonna introduce ya'selves? Huh?"
"Oh. I'm - well, all the guys just call me Racetrack."
I stifled a laugh. What a name! "I'm Katie Rose, but everyone calls me Katie."
"She's gonna be livin' heah wit us for awhile now," Uncle Kloppman informed him. The boy's eyes widened a little, but his expression didn't change and he didn't take his eyes from me.
Uncle Kloppman coughed. "Eh, Race, what was it you uh...?"
The boy blinked and the gaze was broken. He proceeded to inquire after his pocketwatch, and when he had found it amongst the other various treasures that lay on the dusty floor, he took his leave.
I saw him look back at me over his shoulder as he walked out of the house and onto the quiet street. I gave him one last look and turned to my uncle. "Are all the boys...like that one...?" I questioned as politely as I could.
He smiled knowingly. "Race is usually moah...friendly, but see, dese fellas ain't used to bein' around ladies much. He's just noivous, he'll warm up to ya."
It does not usually drop to 60 degrees in August in New York. Yet, with suitcase in hand, I climbed the steps to the Newsboys Lodging House porch, taking in cool air.
I rang the bell gingerly and waited for my uncle to answer it. I took a moment to observe the surroundings. Everything, from the Lodging House sign to the wagons and passing carriages to the passers-by, was stained with soot and brown dust from the road. No newsboys were around; I supposed they were all out doing their jobs.
I was watching a young woman wander around aimlessly, when-
"Eh-you-you arr...?" A wrinkled old man with round spectacles and no teeth appeared inside the building. He looked so harmless and agreeable that I knew at once that I liked him.
"Hello! I believe I'm your grandniece. Katie Rose, I'm called." I set down my suitcase and extended a hand to him. The wrinkled old man looked surprised, but pleased, and shook it heartily.
"And yer here now - all-all the way from Boston, is it?"
"Yes, and I AM very glad to be here."
This seemed to suit him very well, and he let out a delighted laugh that filled the whole foyer and somehow made it seem brighter.
"Eh, come on, lemme show ya' 'round," he offered, and shuffled away from the doorway. I removed my bonnet and followed him. Deeper into the entrance way stood a large counter with books and papers all scattered untidily about. There were a few wooden chairs nearby, and a staircase that looked rather untrustworthy. Overhead hung a small ceiling fan, and all over the floor were scattered random articles of clothing, a cigar, a razor, and (although it seemed very out-of-place) a pocketwatch with a gold chain.
My uncle scratched his head and turned to me sheepishly. "Hard ta keep it clean, what wit all the boys livin' heah."
I smiled warmly as I flicked off a spider that had landed on my arm. "Oh, that's alright, I think it's charming. Quite different from anything I'm used to."
"Ha! Nothin' to yer aunt's house, I'd bet. Eh, how is Maimee, the ole' girl?"
A loud startling squeak came from the doorhinge, and -
"Heya, Kloppman! Say, you seen my-"
A dark-haired, round-faced, vertically-challenged boy clad in a brown-and- tan-checkered vest and a cabby hat swept through the doorway and into the room where Uncle Kloppman and I stood. He was apparently in a hurry, but stopped short when he noticed me. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Kloppman spoke.
"Eh - come 'ere, boy! Come on, come an' meet 'her." He motioned for the boy to come nearer the big counter.
"Hi," he muttered, frowning at me.
"Hi," I replied, smiling. I waited for him to smile back, but...no such luck. He just kept staring at me.
We shook hands. Uncle Kloppman looked from the boy to me expectantly. "Well?" he shouted, as though we were hard of hearing. "Aren'tcha' gonna introduce ya'selves? Huh?"
"Oh. I'm - well, all the guys just call me Racetrack."
I stifled a laugh. What a name! "I'm Katie Rose, but everyone calls me Katie."
"She's gonna be livin' heah wit us for awhile now," Uncle Kloppman informed him. The boy's eyes widened a little, but his expression didn't change and he didn't take his eyes from me.
Uncle Kloppman coughed. "Eh, Race, what was it you uh...?"
The boy blinked and the gaze was broken. He proceeded to inquire after his pocketwatch, and when he had found it amongst the other various treasures that lay on the dusty floor, he took his leave.
I saw him look back at me over his shoulder as he walked out of the house and onto the quiet street. I gave him one last look and turned to my uncle. "Are all the boys...like that one...?" I questioned as politely as I could.
He smiled knowingly. "Race is usually moah...friendly, but see, dese fellas ain't used to bein' around ladies much. He's just noivous, he'll warm up to ya."