A/N - Whoo boy it's nice to finally get back online. Sorry folks,
I've been without a computer thus why I haven't been updating. But! Now
here's a new chapter.
Erin Sailor Ditz - I have started to read your story and I don't know what you're talking about, I think its fine. Besides you obviously have good taste. (Anyone who likes Spot does in my opinion) I don't flame people's writing, if I think I could suggest something that might help I will, but flaming isn't really necessary. Thanks for your review I hope you keep reading!
Cabby1 - Sure I'll use your character, I'll email you or you can just send it to my hotmail addy on my profile page. Hopefully I can do it justice. I can't answer you about Racetrack, but he's Racetrack. He'll end up happy. Thanks for your review!
WeBuiltThisCityOnRockAndRoll- Oh my god your name is awesome!! I agree with the accent thing. I think that a little bit of accent is okay, but once they start saying 'youse' and 'dat ting' every time they open their mouths it's tedious. There's nothing better than tension. It makes things SO much more enjoyable. Thanks for your review!
KatFightOnSkis-Again another awesome name. Thanks, I only hope I can keep this story interesting the whole way through.
Now, on with the story - A/N
I nearly stumbled in my haste and excitement to keep up with Racetrack. He would give me amused glances every once in awhile and chomp on the end of an unlit cigar. He seemed to have a never ending supply of the things, once he was finished smoking one, another would magically appear. I found it hard to believe that he had the money for such a habit, but then I realized he probably either spent most of his paper money on cigars or stole them.
"Now most girls get a little put out when they meet all the guys. There's a bunch of 'em and they all love the ladies. Except Skittery, but I think that he's just shy. Anyway, Jack Kelly otherwise known as Cowboy is the boss and it'll do ya good to remember that. What he says goes. He ain't exactly as intimidating as Spot, but the charm thing works for him." I nodded as I tried to commit this all to memory. Racetrack seemed to find that amusing as well and he chuckled around the stub of his cigar. A misty rain began to fall, soaking us lightly all over again. Luckily it was late August, and not that cold. Otherwise we would have most likely fallen sick from the exposure.
"Bourbon is the head of the girls, but she still listens to Jack." Racetrack made a thoughtful grimace and snickered.
"Well when she wants to. You'll be stayin' on her floor with her and the other dames. There's only a few of 'em, like I said before. They're mostly nice but if you cross any of 'em you got to deal with the whole pack plus any of the fellas that they've snagged." I looked sideways at Racetrack.
"You been snagged yet?" His cheeks flushed a bright pink and he darted a look at me before shaking his head.
"Shaddup kid, I'm tryin' to get you ready to live at the lodging house. Pay attention." But I could tell he wasn't entirely unpleased with the question. Before too long we had crossed the bridge and were standing in front of a ramshackle building that had a sign painted over the door that read 'Newsboys Lodging House'. Underneath it someone had tacked up a piece of rough wood and with childish handwriting had written 'And Newsgirls'. I found myself smiling openly at that, which didn't escape the notice of an old man who was sweeping the front stoop. He glowered at me from underneath caterpillar-like eyebrows.
"Sweet Jesus son of Mary not another one. Damnit Racetrack these girls aren't like strays you just can't bring 'em home whenever you feel like it." Taken aback at his outburst, I looked up at Racetrack who had a broad grin on his face. Placing a hand in the small of my back, he gently steered me into the building, behind the old man who was storming towards a desk waving his broom around. The man slammed a worn ledger down in front of me and impatiently waited for me to sign it. Then he pointed with a gnarled, weathered finger towards a flight of stairs and slapped Racetrack upside the head as he herded me towards them.
"Ah Kloppy you'll love her just like the rest in a week. You'll see. You're a sucker for broads too." I caught the wink and snort that the old man gave before he went back to sweeping, ranting and raving about irresponsibility. As we mounted the narrow staircase, Racetrack jerked a hand back towards the lobby.
"That's Kloppman. He takes care of us and keeps the building er maintained. He also wakes us up in the morning so we can get to work on time. Don't try to ignore him; he'll dump ice water on ya." I could tell by the uncomfortable spasm that crossed Race's face that he had experienced that method firsthand. Boisterous voices filled the air as we neared an open door. Most were male but I could detect a few female tones as well. Nearly everyone stopped talking as we entered the room.
I assumed as it was mid-evening by the time we had reached Manhattan that the evening addition had already been sold. My assumption would appear to be correct since there were quite a number of kids lounging on bunk beds or sitting around a rickety table that took up a corner of the room. A few other kids were shooting craps against the far wall with a pair of homemade dice. A tall well-formed boy pushed himself off of the top bunk he had been sitting on and landed on his feet in front of me with a small thud. Pushing a black cowboy hat off of his forehead so that it hung by its strings on his back, he crossed his arms and squinted down at me. Brown hair framed his handsome face, and he had a sparkle in his brown eyes. He was dressed as most of the others were a button-up shirt, vest, trousers, and battered shoes or boots. He wore a red bandanna around his neck and had a dime novel about the Old West stuck in the back pocket of his pants.
"Who's the dame Race?" Another boy had joined the cowboy who I thought was most likely Jack Kelly. This one was blonde with one good laughing blue eye. The other was hidden behind a worn leather patch.
"This is Misery. I saved her from Brooklyn." That apparently was all the explanation he needed to give as I was swarmed suddenly with pats on my back and sympathetic smiles. I was rapidly given the names of some twenty odd males, and seven or eight females. The girls weren't as friendly looking as the boys, which was understandable. They viewed me as a competition until I could prove myself to be a friend. The head of the girl faction, Bourbon had shouldered her way through the crowd to stand beside Jack. I instantly saw where she had gotten her name, although it could have been her love for the drink. She had incredible whiskey colored eyes that cut right through you. Her hair was also a shade or too darker than her eyes and her skin had a honey tone to it.
She looked me up and down and stuck out her hand after spitting into it. I clasped it in mine readily which made her look at me with a calculating gaze. I hadn't shied away or professed disgust which made me at least of the working class or street rat level.
"Misery huh? You can bunk with Ladybug she ain't got anyone using her bottom bunk."
"Yeah that's cuz she wets the bed!" I heard someone crow before seeing a small girl dart out of the room in tears. Resounding slaps echoed in the room. The teaser had gotten what was coming to him. Bourbon shooed me out into the hallway and up another small flight of stairs into an attic that had been outfitted the same as the bunkroom below. There were a few single beds, obviously already occupied by the messy way their covers were thrown around on top of them. Bourbon saw me looking and gave me a wry smile.
"Only old timers get the singles. You bunk up until one of us leaves and then you can take one. Ladybug doesn't wet the bed THAT much, but she is only five." I nodded in understanding as she gestured to a bunk that was untouched. The little girl was curled into a small ball on the top bunk, shaking with suppressed sobs. Bourbon reached up and clasped the girl to her chest, planting a smooch onto the blonde curls that covered the little girl's head.
"Snitch didn't mean it, Ladybug. He's just being an ass." Ladybug stopped crying long enough to give Bourbon a wide-eyed reproachful look before speaking.
"You said ass, Bourbon. That's wrong." Bourbon chortled and set the girl down onto the floor.
"You bet I did kiddo. Now get back into that room and give Snitch a hard time. You gotta toughen up." With that she slapped the girl gently on the butt to get her started out the door. Once we were along, she crossed her arms and looked at me.
"Well you don't have any stuff, which can only lead me to believe that you're a runaway with no time. So, if you need anything pipe up. The girls may be cold to you at first, but they're all softies here in Manhattan it's just the way it works. You want tough guys you go to Brooklyn." Here, she paused and smirked her glance taking in my damp clothing.
"Although from the sounds of it you already had your fill of Brooklyn. And Spot too I bet. I'm sure once you feel like talking we'll hear all about it." We trooped down the stairs and I could hear Racetrack's voice above all the others.
"And then she asked Spot if he worked for Sears and Roebuck and if he did could he tell her what the newest fashions for ladies was. Oh it was classic." Hoots and hollers followed his statement and I caught Bourbon smirking at me again.
"Looks like Race told your story for ya. I can't wait to hear this one." And with that we entered the bunkroom to be greeted with laughter. I raised my eyes to the Heavens and shot up a silent prayer of Thanks. This seemed to be just the place for me right now. Now if I could only keep Spot Conlon from finding out who I really was and my brothers from finding me period, I was golden.
Erin Sailor Ditz - I have started to read your story and I don't know what you're talking about, I think its fine. Besides you obviously have good taste. (Anyone who likes Spot does in my opinion) I don't flame people's writing, if I think I could suggest something that might help I will, but flaming isn't really necessary. Thanks for your review I hope you keep reading!
Cabby1 - Sure I'll use your character, I'll email you or you can just send it to my hotmail addy on my profile page. Hopefully I can do it justice. I can't answer you about Racetrack, but he's Racetrack. He'll end up happy. Thanks for your review!
WeBuiltThisCityOnRockAndRoll- Oh my god your name is awesome!! I agree with the accent thing. I think that a little bit of accent is okay, but once they start saying 'youse' and 'dat ting' every time they open their mouths it's tedious. There's nothing better than tension. It makes things SO much more enjoyable. Thanks for your review!
KatFightOnSkis-Again another awesome name. Thanks, I only hope I can keep this story interesting the whole way through.
Now, on with the story - A/N
I nearly stumbled in my haste and excitement to keep up with Racetrack. He would give me amused glances every once in awhile and chomp on the end of an unlit cigar. He seemed to have a never ending supply of the things, once he was finished smoking one, another would magically appear. I found it hard to believe that he had the money for such a habit, but then I realized he probably either spent most of his paper money on cigars or stole them.
"Now most girls get a little put out when they meet all the guys. There's a bunch of 'em and they all love the ladies. Except Skittery, but I think that he's just shy. Anyway, Jack Kelly otherwise known as Cowboy is the boss and it'll do ya good to remember that. What he says goes. He ain't exactly as intimidating as Spot, but the charm thing works for him." I nodded as I tried to commit this all to memory. Racetrack seemed to find that amusing as well and he chuckled around the stub of his cigar. A misty rain began to fall, soaking us lightly all over again. Luckily it was late August, and not that cold. Otherwise we would have most likely fallen sick from the exposure.
"Bourbon is the head of the girls, but she still listens to Jack." Racetrack made a thoughtful grimace and snickered.
"Well when she wants to. You'll be stayin' on her floor with her and the other dames. There's only a few of 'em, like I said before. They're mostly nice but if you cross any of 'em you got to deal with the whole pack plus any of the fellas that they've snagged." I looked sideways at Racetrack.
"You been snagged yet?" His cheeks flushed a bright pink and he darted a look at me before shaking his head.
"Shaddup kid, I'm tryin' to get you ready to live at the lodging house. Pay attention." But I could tell he wasn't entirely unpleased with the question. Before too long we had crossed the bridge and were standing in front of a ramshackle building that had a sign painted over the door that read 'Newsboys Lodging House'. Underneath it someone had tacked up a piece of rough wood and with childish handwriting had written 'And Newsgirls'. I found myself smiling openly at that, which didn't escape the notice of an old man who was sweeping the front stoop. He glowered at me from underneath caterpillar-like eyebrows.
"Sweet Jesus son of Mary not another one. Damnit Racetrack these girls aren't like strays you just can't bring 'em home whenever you feel like it." Taken aback at his outburst, I looked up at Racetrack who had a broad grin on his face. Placing a hand in the small of my back, he gently steered me into the building, behind the old man who was storming towards a desk waving his broom around. The man slammed a worn ledger down in front of me and impatiently waited for me to sign it. Then he pointed with a gnarled, weathered finger towards a flight of stairs and slapped Racetrack upside the head as he herded me towards them.
"Ah Kloppy you'll love her just like the rest in a week. You'll see. You're a sucker for broads too." I caught the wink and snort that the old man gave before he went back to sweeping, ranting and raving about irresponsibility. As we mounted the narrow staircase, Racetrack jerked a hand back towards the lobby.
"That's Kloppman. He takes care of us and keeps the building er maintained. He also wakes us up in the morning so we can get to work on time. Don't try to ignore him; he'll dump ice water on ya." I could tell by the uncomfortable spasm that crossed Race's face that he had experienced that method firsthand. Boisterous voices filled the air as we neared an open door. Most were male but I could detect a few female tones as well. Nearly everyone stopped talking as we entered the room.
I assumed as it was mid-evening by the time we had reached Manhattan that the evening addition had already been sold. My assumption would appear to be correct since there were quite a number of kids lounging on bunk beds or sitting around a rickety table that took up a corner of the room. A few other kids were shooting craps against the far wall with a pair of homemade dice. A tall well-formed boy pushed himself off of the top bunk he had been sitting on and landed on his feet in front of me with a small thud. Pushing a black cowboy hat off of his forehead so that it hung by its strings on his back, he crossed his arms and squinted down at me. Brown hair framed his handsome face, and he had a sparkle in his brown eyes. He was dressed as most of the others were a button-up shirt, vest, trousers, and battered shoes or boots. He wore a red bandanna around his neck and had a dime novel about the Old West stuck in the back pocket of his pants.
"Who's the dame Race?" Another boy had joined the cowboy who I thought was most likely Jack Kelly. This one was blonde with one good laughing blue eye. The other was hidden behind a worn leather patch.
"This is Misery. I saved her from Brooklyn." That apparently was all the explanation he needed to give as I was swarmed suddenly with pats on my back and sympathetic smiles. I was rapidly given the names of some twenty odd males, and seven or eight females. The girls weren't as friendly looking as the boys, which was understandable. They viewed me as a competition until I could prove myself to be a friend. The head of the girl faction, Bourbon had shouldered her way through the crowd to stand beside Jack. I instantly saw where she had gotten her name, although it could have been her love for the drink. She had incredible whiskey colored eyes that cut right through you. Her hair was also a shade or too darker than her eyes and her skin had a honey tone to it.
She looked me up and down and stuck out her hand after spitting into it. I clasped it in mine readily which made her look at me with a calculating gaze. I hadn't shied away or professed disgust which made me at least of the working class or street rat level.
"Misery huh? You can bunk with Ladybug she ain't got anyone using her bottom bunk."
"Yeah that's cuz she wets the bed!" I heard someone crow before seeing a small girl dart out of the room in tears. Resounding slaps echoed in the room. The teaser had gotten what was coming to him. Bourbon shooed me out into the hallway and up another small flight of stairs into an attic that had been outfitted the same as the bunkroom below. There were a few single beds, obviously already occupied by the messy way their covers were thrown around on top of them. Bourbon saw me looking and gave me a wry smile.
"Only old timers get the singles. You bunk up until one of us leaves and then you can take one. Ladybug doesn't wet the bed THAT much, but she is only five." I nodded in understanding as she gestured to a bunk that was untouched. The little girl was curled into a small ball on the top bunk, shaking with suppressed sobs. Bourbon reached up and clasped the girl to her chest, planting a smooch onto the blonde curls that covered the little girl's head.
"Snitch didn't mean it, Ladybug. He's just being an ass." Ladybug stopped crying long enough to give Bourbon a wide-eyed reproachful look before speaking.
"You said ass, Bourbon. That's wrong." Bourbon chortled and set the girl down onto the floor.
"You bet I did kiddo. Now get back into that room and give Snitch a hard time. You gotta toughen up." With that she slapped the girl gently on the butt to get her started out the door. Once we were along, she crossed her arms and looked at me.
"Well you don't have any stuff, which can only lead me to believe that you're a runaway with no time. So, if you need anything pipe up. The girls may be cold to you at first, but they're all softies here in Manhattan it's just the way it works. You want tough guys you go to Brooklyn." Here, she paused and smirked her glance taking in my damp clothing.
"Although from the sounds of it you already had your fill of Brooklyn. And Spot too I bet. I'm sure once you feel like talking we'll hear all about it." We trooped down the stairs and I could hear Racetrack's voice above all the others.
"And then she asked Spot if he worked for Sears and Roebuck and if he did could he tell her what the newest fashions for ladies was. Oh it was classic." Hoots and hollers followed his statement and I caught Bourbon smirking at me again.
"Looks like Race told your story for ya. I can't wait to hear this one." And with that we entered the bunkroom to be greeted with laughter. I raised my eyes to the Heavens and shot up a silent prayer of Thanks. This seemed to be just the place for me right now. Now if I could only keep Spot Conlon from finding out who I really was and my brothers from finding me period, I was golden.