Note: as usual, this story is intertwined with my two previous stories," tiny dancer" and "homecoming". This picks up from where "tiny dancer" left off. Historically, this may be crap. I don't know whether a Chinatown existed at the time but I hope I can be forgiven for all inaccuracies. I'm just so in love with the idea I'm willing to risk a bet. (well, this IS a race fic, after all. :) )
Chapter1- a strategy and a secret
" 'ey race! Wait up will youse?"
racetrack turned around and raised his eyebrows in surprise as his good friend and ex-selling partner pagan ran over to catch up with him. Dat's weird, he thought. Me and pagan ain't sold tahgeddah in a while. Not since she and jack hooked up, dat is. Wondah what changed her mind alla' sudden? "wheah's jack?" he said, in manner of greeting.
Pagan smiled sheepishly. "we decided not tah sell tahgeddah," she said.
"oh? Why's dat?" they started walking toward the loading dock. "not havin' any problems I hope?"
"nah, it ain't dat," pagan said. "it's a sellin' strategy. Tawt it bettah if by day we split. It ain't right sellin' papes while we's holdin' hands alla' time- bad fah business."
Racetrack nodded in agreement. Pagan and jack were still in that maddening "locked at the hip and lip" phase of their relationship. It's a wondah dose two could even stop gropin' at each udda long enough tah sell dem papes! He thought,giving her one of his toothy maniac grins. "knocked some sense in dat head'a yaws, huh?"
"bettah dis way, methinks," pagan said. " 'sides, it gives me a reason tah miss him if I don't see him da whole day." She winked at race, shooting him a loaded look.
Racetrack rolled his eyes and crossed himself just to tease pagan. I sweah!he thought. By day, jack and pagan may be hawkin' headlines separate, but by night, deys hawkin' somethin' else entirely. It's a wondah we's even be getting' any sleep wit' da way does two carry on! "so what am I huh?" racetrack said, feigning hurt. "a cold showah?"
He ducked in case pagan's reflexes hit him in the arm. Instead, she draped an arm over him.
"is dat any way tah tawk tah yah selling partner?"
"EX- sellin' partner," he corrected. " in case youse fahgot." Ex- selling partner, among other EX's in between, of which pagan had absolutely no knowledge of, and at this point, will never know.
Racetrack used to have a crush on her, way back when she had started selling papes with the manhattan boys. Racetrack would never admit it now, least of all to pagan, but it had been her quirkiness that had drawn him to her. She would join him on the ledge of the newsie lodging house for an after supper/ before bedtime smoke, for one. They'd spent many nights just talking and joking. He never had to watch his mouth around her or nuttin' - even if she was a girl.
Looks-wise, now that race thought about it in retrospect, she wasn't that stunning. After all, how stunning could a girl get in loose clothing- dirty pants, boys' shirts and that coat she insisted on wearing all the time? But she had lovely eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a mouth he found almost irresistible ( dat lucky bum jack!) and...race had to lean and check to be sure he wasn't imagining it- rather nicely shaped breasts. It wasn't that hard imagining her in a dress...it wasn't hard imagining her out of it, either.
Flushing, race fanned himself with his cap. Stop t'inkin' dis way! He thought. she ain't your goil, she's jack's. what's more, she's yah FRIEND! friend, got it?
"what's it gonna be, race?" pagan asked. "yah know yah miss sellin' wit' me." She smiled up at him. " I miss sellin' wit'chu..."
it took him a minute to come up with an answer. "why not?" he said, relenting. Aw geez, ise still a sucker f'dat smile.
Chapter1- a strategy and a secret
" 'ey race! Wait up will youse?"
racetrack turned around and raised his eyebrows in surprise as his good friend and ex-selling partner pagan ran over to catch up with him. Dat's weird, he thought. Me and pagan ain't sold tahgeddah in a while. Not since she and jack hooked up, dat is. Wondah what changed her mind alla' sudden? "wheah's jack?" he said, in manner of greeting.
Pagan smiled sheepishly. "we decided not tah sell tahgeddah," she said.
"oh? Why's dat?" they started walking toward the loading dock. "not havin' any problems I hope?"
"nah, it ain't dat," pagan said. "it's a sellin' strategy. Tawt it bettah if by day we split. It ain't right sellin' papes while we's holdin' hands alla' time- bad fah business."
Racetrack nodded in agreement. Pagan and jack were still in that maddening "locked at the hip and lip" phase of their relationship. It's a wondah dose two could even stop gropin' at each udda long enough tah sell dem papes! He thought,giving her one of his toothy maniac grins. "knocked some sense in dat head'a yaws, huh?"
"bettah dis way, methinks," pagan said. " 'sides, it gives me a reason tah miss him if I don't see him da whole day." She winked at race, shooting him a loaded look.
Racetrack rolled his eyes and crossed himself just to tease pagan. I sweah!he thought. By day, jack and pagan may be hawkin' headlines separate, but by night, deys hawkin' somethin' else entirely. It's a wondah we's even be getting' any sleep wit' da way does two carry on! "so what am I huh?" racetrack said, feigning hurt. "a cold showah?"
He ducked in case pagan's reflexes hit him in the arm. Instead, she draped an arm over him.
"is dat any way tah tawk tah yah selling partner?"
"EX- sellin' partner," he corrected. " in case youse fahgot." Ex- selling partner, among other EX's in between, of which pagan had absolutely no knowledge of, and at this point, will never know.
Racetrack used to have a crush on her, way back when she had started selling papes with the manhattan boys. Racetrack would never admit it now, least of all to pagan, but it had been her quirkiness that had drawn him to her. She would join him on the ledge of the newsie lodging house for an after supper/ before bedtime smoke, for one. They'd spent many nights just talking and joking. He never had to watch his mouth around her or nuttin' - even if she was a girl.
Looks-wise, now that race thought about it in retrospect, she wasn't that stunning. After all, how stunning could a girl get in loose clothing- dirty pants, boys' shirts and that coat she insisted on wearing all the time? But she had lovely eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a mouth he found almost irresistible ( dat lucky bum jack!) and...race had to lean and check to be sure he wasn't imagining it- rather nicely shaped breasts. It wasn't that hard imagining her in a dress...it wasn't hard imagining her out of it, either.
Flushing, race fanned himself with his cap. Stop t'inkin' dis way! He thought. she ain't your goil, she's jack's. what's more, she's yah FRIEND! friend, got it?
"what's it gonna be, race?" pagan asked. "yah know yah miss sellin' wit' me." She smiled up at him. " I miss sellin' wit'chu..."
it took him a minute to come up with an answer. "why not?" he said, relenting. Aw geez, ise still a sucker f'dat smile.