The streets got dirtier as we travelled farther from the bustling main
streets, but I didn't mind. I had never been exposed to that side of
Boston; Aunt and I had always travelled through it with the carriage drapes
shielding our vision, so I had never seen poverty alive and well in the
streets.
Before I knew it we were in the Lodging House once again. Kloppman was standing behind the front desk, looking unwell. As soon as he saw me he stormed towards us, eyes wild and arms flailing.
"DEHE you are! D'you know how many places I been lookin' fa you?"
"I-I'm sorry-I just-went out-with-"
"She just wanted ta sell wit us taday, Kloppy," Race jumped in. "Keep ya shoit on, I been takin' caeh o' hah." I shot him a look of gratitude. Kloppman was scary when he was mad!
But what Race had said didn't help. The old man turned on him, angrier than before, and exclaimed, "You took her up to da TRACK?! Why'dya go'n do some'n like dat? It's practically her foist day hehe, boy, whaddaya TINKin'?" I winced as his voice grew louder and raspier with every syllable.
"I didn' take her ta da track! Fa cryin' out loud, will ya stop screamin'?" I was shocked at how unafraid he was of my uncle. To my relief, the old man calmed down after Race made this clear. "You tellin' the truth, boy?" he asked suspiciously. The boy brought his lips together in what was almost a pout. "Yeah, o' course I'm tellin' 'a truth. I wanted ta sell downtown taday, dat's awl."
Kloppman sighed. "Arright," he replied, "arright. I'm sorry fa bein' so hard on y', Katie, 't's just dat you'se my responsibility now, an' if anythin' evah happened to ya, Maimee would-"
"She wouldn't care," I interrupted, shrugging. It was true.
He shook his head fervently. "I don't caeh what you say; I'd take a lotta heat fa yaw loss-will y' just TELL me next time y' wanna go somewhehe? At least den I'll know whehe you ah, and I'll send one o' da boys wit ya."
I nodded, grateful to be off the hook. "In the future, yes. I'm sorry- really, I am."
He smiled. "It's alright-but say, what're ya doin' back heah, anyway? Dja figya I'd be worried sick 'boutcha an' come ta calm me down?"
"She needs some clothes," Race explained, frowning at the man. "An' why were ya worried about her? She was wit us."
'You didn't exactly offer to help me find my way around,' I mused as I pushed up the sleeves of my light pink blouse. 'Are you going to try to take all the credit?'
"Well, I didn't know she was wit you! She coulda been anywhehe! I-"
"Ok, ok, enough wit da lectchas-c'mon, upstaehs," he answered and jerked his face toward the banister.
After flashing Kloppman a nervous smile, I followed Race up and into the bunkroom. I gingerly stepped over the dingy, off-white shirts that greeted us as we entered. Race didn't seem to notice anything besides a large lump on top of the pillow of a bottom bunk. I stood next to the bed, observing him. His hands were shaking slightly as he picked up the trousers, shirt, and suspenders.
"I guess you can weah dese." He handed me the pants.
"Oh-so should I just wear my own shirt?" I looked down at the pink lace. 'Why doesn't he let me wear his shirt?'
He coughed, looking more nervous than ever. "Well, uh-dis one ain't clean" -he held up the slightly yellowed clump of fabric and dropped it by accident- "so uh..." he glanced down at the body of the one he was wearing, "I guess you can have dis one."
"Oh, you don't have to-"
"Naw, naw, you take dis one. It smells bettah." I laughed and almost saw the corners of his mouth perk up into a smile. He bent over and grabbed the dirty shirt. "I'll just go an' change," he stammered, and entered one of the stalls lining the wall. When he came out, he handed me the clean shirt he had been wearing.
"Thanks," I said quietly, and folded it over my arm before choosing a stall.
A shiver went through me as I turned over the items in my hands. I was reluctant to put them on; I had never even thought about wearing men's clothes before, and the prospect of it was a little unnerving. I smiled to myself, though, as I imagined Aunt Maimee's reaction. "Well, here goes nothing," I said to myself, before remembering that Race might still be in the room. I listened for any sound-there was nothing.
'Well that's nice,' was my immediate reaction. 'Just leave me here...how'm I supposed to get back downtown?' I huffed and proceeded to undress myself.
Although his absence distressed me somewhat, it would give me a chance to do something I hadn't had the pleasure of doing since I had gotten there. I decided to sing.
"Goodnight, my someone, goodnight, my love....."
The shirt, which had hung loosely on Racetrack's torso, was even more baggy on me. It fit me in almost the same way it did him, though, and I was a bit alarmed when my undersized chest almost fell out of it.
"Sleep tight, my someone, sleep tight, my love....."
The trousers were also extremely baggy, and like nothing I had ever worn before...I could tell this new feel of pants would take some getting used to.
"Our star is shining its brightest light....."
I let my hair fall past my shoulders. I whimpered at the thought of it being the last feminine-looking part of me. There was no mirror in the stall, so I couldn't really tell what I looked like. 'That's probably a good thing right now,' I reminded myself. I opened the door.
"For goodnight, my love, for-"
To my surprise and dismay, Race was standing in front of me, leaned against a pole, one arm at his side and the other holding a lit cigar. I was mortified.
"Oh! I didn't....I....uh," I searched for words to express my embarrassment. After turning several shades of pink, I finally burst out with, "I didn't know you were still here."
It took him several seconds to answer; his face had adopted a softer expression now, and his eyes were actually inviting. There was nothing of the cold and deliberate harshness I had seen in them before. He just stood staring at me for the longest time, and finally broke the gaze in order to throw down the cigar.
"Well, I couldn't leave witout ya-he'd have my head." He motioned to the stairwell and frowned again. I still couldn't believe he had heard me...I was utterly humiliated.
Before I knew it we were in the Lodging House once again. Kloppman was standing behind the front desk, looking unwell. As soon as he saw me he stormed towards us, eyes wild and arms flailing.
"DEHE you are! D'you know how many places I been lookin' fa you?"
"I-I'm sorry-I just-went out-with-"
"She just wanted ta sell wit us taday, Kloppy," Race jumped in. "Keep ya shoit on, I been takin' caeh o' hah." I shot him a look of gratitude. Kloppman was scary when he was mad!
But what Race had said didn't help. The old man turned on him, angrier than before, and exclaimed, "You took her up to da TRACK?! Why'dya go'n do some'n like dat? It's practically her foist day hehe, boy, whaddaya TINKin'?" I winced as his voice grew louder and raspier with every syllable.
"I didn' take her ta da track! Fa cryin' out loud, will ya stop screamin'?" I was shocked at how unafraid he was of my uncle. To my relief, the old man calmed down after Race made this clear. "You tellin' the truth, boy?" he asked suspiciously. The boy brought his lips together in what was almost a pout. "Yeah, o' course I'm tellin' 'a truth. I wanted ta sell downtown taday, dat's awl."
Kloppman sighed. "Arright," he replied, "arright. I'm sorry fa bein' so hard on y', Katie, 't's just dat you'se my responsibility now, an' if anythin' evah happened to ya, Maimee would-"
"She wouldn't care," I interrupted, shrugging. It was true.
He shook his head fervently. "I don't caeh what you say; I'd take a lotta heat fa yaw loss-will y' just TELL me next time y' wanna go somewhehe? At least den I'll know whehe you ah, and I'll send one o' da boys wit ya."
I nodded, grateful to be off the hook. "In the future, yes. I'm sorry- really, I am."
He smiled. "It's alright-but say, what're ya doin' back heah, anyway? Dja figya I'd be worried sick 'boutcha an' come ta calm me down?"
"She needs some clothes," Race explained, frowning at the man. "An' why were ya worried about her? She was wit us."
'You didn't exactly offer to help me find my way around,' I mused as I pushed up the sleeves of my light pink blouse. 'Are you going to try to take all the credit?'
"Well, I didn't know she was wit you! She coulda been anywhehe! I-"
"Ok, ok, enough wit da lectchas-c'mon, upstaehs," he answered and jerked his face toward the banister.
After flashing Kloppman a nervous smile, I followed Race up and into the bunkroom. I gingerly stepped over the dingy, off-white shirts that greeted us as we entered. Race didn't seem to notice anything besides a large lump on top of the pillow of a bottom bunk. I stood next to the bed, observing him. His hands were shaking slightly as he picked up the trousers, shirt, and suspenders.
"I guess you can weah dese." He handed me the pants.
"Oh-so should I just wear my own shirt?" I looked down at the pink lace. 'Why doesn't he let me wear his shirt?'
He coughed, looking more nervous than ever. "Well, uh-dis one ain't clean" -he held up the slightly yellowed clump of fabric and dropped it by accident- "so uh..." he glanced down at the body of the one he was wearing, "I guess you can have dis one."
"Oh, you don't have to-"
"Naw, naw, you take dis one. It smells bettah." I laughed and almost saw the corners of his mouth perk up into a smile. He bent over and grabbed the dirty shirt. "I'll just go an' change," he stammered, and entered one of the stalls lining the wall. When he came out, he handed me the clean shirt he had been wearing.
"Thanks," I said quietly, and folded it over my arm before choosing a stall.
A shiver went through me as I turned over the items in my hands. I was reluctant to put them on; I had never even thought about wearing men's clothes before, and the prospect of it was a little unnerving. I smiled to myself, though, as I imagined Aunt Maimee's reaction. "Well, here goes nothing," I said to myself, before remembering that Race might still be in the room. I listened for any sound-there was nothing.
'Well that's nice,' was my immediate reaction. 'Just leave me here...how'm I supposed to get back downtown?' I huffed and proceeded to undress myself.
Although his absence distressed me somewhat, it would give me a chance to do something I hadn't had the pleasure of doing since I had gotten there. I decided to sing.
"Goodnight, my someone, goodnight, my love....."
The shirt, which had hung loosely on Racetrack's torso, was even more baggy on me. It fit me in almost the same way it did him, though, and I was a bit alarmed when my undersized chest almost fell out of it.
"Sleep tight, my someone, sleep tight, my love....."
The trousers were also extremely baggy, and like nothing I had ever worn before...I could tell this new feel of pants would take some getting used to.
"Our star is shining its brightest light....."
I let my hair fall past my shoulders. I whimpered at the thought of it being the last feminine-looking part of me. There was no mirror in the stall, so I couldn't really tell what I looked like. 'That's probably a good thing right now,' I reminded myself. I opened the door.
"For goodnight, my love, for-"
To my surprise and dismay, Race was standing in front of me, leaned against a pole, one arm at his side and the other holding a lit cigar. I was mortified.
"Oh! I didn't....I....uh," I searched for words to express my embarrassment. After turning several shades of pink, I finally burst out with, "I didn't know you were still here."
It took him several seconds to answer; his face had adopted a softer expression now, and his eyes were actually inviting. There was nothing of the cold and deliberate harshness I had seen in them before. He just stood staring at me for the longest time, and finally broke the gaze in order to throw down the cigar.
"Well, I couldn't leave witout ya-he'd have my head." He motioned to the stairwell and frowned again. I still couldn't believe he had heard me...I was utterly humiliated.