AN: Yay! Here's chapter two, finally. Thanks to all my lovely, wonderful reviewers!

                                                                                                                                               

            Dutchy and I got to one of our normal selling spots as quickly as we could, hoping to get done with our selling early so we could get to someplace cool or lunch. The heat was already taking its toll on me, and I pulled my hat off my head momentarily to wipe the sweat off my forehead before it dripped into my eyes.

"Specs…is that Patrick's mom?"

            I finished selling another paper and turned to look where Dutchy had gestured, not far down the street from where we stood. Sure enough, Patrick's mother was walking in our direction.

            "Yeah, that's her. Wonder what she's doin' around here."

            Dutchy shrugged, turning back to a customer and selling another paper. I shouted another improved headline, getting more and more curious as Patrick's mother pushed through the crowd, straight toward Dutchy and I.

            " Come on, Dutch. Let's find another spot," I finally said, pushing him gently toward a less crowded part of the street. He gave me a strange look but didn't say anything.

            I could definitely tell now that she was following us. She was keeping up with our quickened pace, and not making any effort to stop staring. I finally sighed, and then stopped and turned around. Dutchy did a double take, noticed her, and quickly stood his ground beside me.

            "What's she want?" he asked.

            "I don't know….guess we'll find out."

            She smiled shyly as she approached us, stopping a few feet from me and studying me from head to toe. Then she quietly said, "I knew I would find you. I knew it."

            An uncomfortable silence fell between us as Dutchy and I realized just what she had said. I looked back to him and he gave me a helpless look; he was never one to get involved in confrontation.

            "I don't know what you's talkin' about," I said, turning to walk away. She reached out and grabbed me by the sleeve, and I yanked away in a panic, stumbling forward into Dutchy and almost taking him down with me.

            "Don't leave me, not again!" she begged, reaching forward to help me up. I stumbled out of her reach, grabbed Dutchy's arm, and started walking away much quicker. She almost made to follow us, seemed to change her mind, and then stood in the middle of the street like a lost puppy. Once again those feelings of guilt rose up, but for once I just shoved them aside.

            I ignored Dutchy's protests and attempts to pull out of my grasp until we were well away from that street. I finally let him go a couple of blocks farther away and he backed up a few steps, adjusting his shirt and staring me down.

            "She doesn't honestly think you's Patrick…does she?" he asked, breathing heavily.

            I shrugged. "There's no reason. I've passed her every day for years. It don't make any sense."

            We stood unsure for a moment, and I felt his eyes on me the whole time, watching me carefully. He finally said, "That really shook you up, didn't it?"

            I shook my head vehemently. "No. It's just…I didn't get much sleep last night. I's just tired," He looked at me with doubt shining in his beautiful crystal blue eyes, and I knew he could tell I was flat out lying. I'm a horrible liar, so it wouldn't be hard to tell. I shook my head again, clearing it of all the strange thoughts running through it, and then said, "Let's go sell before we miss lunch again."

                                                                                                                                               

            The rest of the morning was uneventful….well, mostly. I caught sight of Patrick's mother three more times before lunchtime rolled around, and each time she was just standing, staring at me like some type of ghost you'd catch sight of down a long hallway. Now that I looked closer, she almost did look ghostly; her eyes were deep in their sockets and her skin had a tone of gray to it, giving her the appearance of a skull instead of a face. She looked so frail that she might fall over at any moment, pushed by a strong and untimely gust of wind. She looked like she'd taken a beating from life- that same look that many of the newsies' get in their darkest hours.

            Needless to say, she scared me. And it's not often that I get scared enough to move selling spots every half hour; not only does it waste time, but it only makes the day seem hotter and gets your clothes more soaked in sweat.

            Eventually Dutchy began to get sick of this charade. I couldn't blame him; I probably would've lost my temper and left by now had it been the other way around. But he followed dutifully, willing to make the day that much harder on himself for me to feel safe.

            And that made me feel even more guilty and stupid. This shouldn't have been anything to me. It wasn't like she was out to kill me, it was just a simple case of mistaken identity.

            We didn't have much money even between the two of us when lunchtime came, since only half of our papers had got sold. We sat behind a dress shop where they had a hose for the cart horses' trough set up, and we pooled our money to buy a couple of rolls and apples. Considering the fact that we were afraid we wouldn't be able to eat at all today, it was a meal fit for a king. The first few minutes of eating passed in uneasy silence with a minimum of eye contact between us.

            "Specs…would you quit acting like ya just stole somethin'? The bulls are gonna see you lookin' around like dat and get us both in trouble," Dutchy said, referring to my constant glances toward either end of the alley.

            "Sorry…I just…"

            "You's afraid dat she's gonna show up."

            "Yeah."

            Dutchy took another huge bite of his apple, and then chewed thoughtfully before speaking. "Look…she's not gonna hunt you down and murder you. Once she figures out dat you ain't Patrick, she'll leave us alone. Don't worry so much."

            "I know, I'm trying…but she just gives me the creeps."

            "Me too. She's a nutcase."

            "It's not that." I said as I shook my head, and Dutchy raised his eyebrows. I took a deep breath, and then slowly said, "What scares me…is that I think she honestly believes I'm him. And she honestly believes he's gonna come home. That I'm gonna go with her."

                                                                                                                                               

            Will she show up again? And how will they convince her Specs isn't who she thinks he is? And here's a new feature to entice you to look forward to the next chapter!

Flash Forward Preview Teaser Dialogue Line Thingie!!!!

            "There is no Patrick. There never was."