Yea, I've got a character in one of Dakki's stories! Happy happy, joy joy! *crazy dancing* Her name is Gwen and probably the closest I've come to putting myself in a character. Do you like the name Gwen? I was trying to think of a name and I'm still not sure I like this one. Who knowsI'll keep on thinking about it.
But whew, another chapter. People weren't as responsive to the Upstate Races updates (not even a line from Miracle!) so I was a little bummed. But every cloud has silver or whatever that proverb is and as a result my interest in Tuesday Morning was renewed. So here it is. Anodda chapter. Enjoy
One other thing: I suggest listening to Michelle Branch's song Tuesday Morning' towards the end of this chapter. Some of the words are taken from that song.
Chapter 5
He cleared his throat, glancing up and then down the neighborhood street before knocking soundly on the wooden door. This time around it didn't fly open seconds afterwards. Instead, after turning back and finding Spot still on the stoop behind him, he had to knock a second time.
Shuffling could be heard inside so he waited a moment longer, scuffing his own feet to keep them warm. Didn't tink it could get any colda. He mumbled into his collar, hiding his mouth to protect his lips from chapping.
Who knew. Spot blew into his hands. But I'll tell ya dis. Da mayor's gonna cointainly be toasty at dis celebration. Big fur coat, hats, gloves. Spot motioned with his hands, puffing up his own shoulders to show how the fur coat would cover the elderly mayor. Lucky bastard.
Jack laughed, leaning his head back to check out the upper windows of Eppie's building. On the lower level was the Richard's book shop, crammed with rows and rows of every novel imaginable. On the second and third floor was the Richard's own living quarters, as crammed as the store below.
I see im coming. Spot said, stopping Jack from knocking for the third time. He'd seen Spot everyday for the past couple weeks, or whenever he was with Eppie and Anna. But this was the first time in awhile that the two friends had been alone and there seemed to be a strange tension in the air.
So Jack remained silent, learning earlier in their walk to the Richard's house that Spot wasn't up for talking about the night's events, unless it concerned the mayor. He grew up in Brooklyn, ya know. Only a few blocks from dis street. Spot piped in again just as the door opened. Only in America.
Jack smiled at the sight of Mr. Richards, spectacles magnifying his welcoming eyes and bushy grey eyebrows. Ah, come in boys, He moved away from the door so that they could enter. It's getting colder out there. Are those the only coats you have?
Yes sir, Jack answered, shaking the man's hand and focusing intently on having a firm handshake. But we'll survive, have been for quite some time.
The man huffed and batted absentmindedly with his hand. he called, Bring down those extra coats in the trunk for Eppie's friends, will you.
A faint reply of yes dear' greeted the boys as they stood awkwardly in the front doorway. Come in, come in! Mr. Richards waved them in more, a stack of books in his hands. He picked up the top cover, read the title and moved to the closest shelf before filing it away in it's proper place. The girls will be down in a moment, he knocked his glasses so that they sat lower on his nose and read the next title. You know how they are with these things.
The boys agreed with quick laughter, eyes roaming around the room and observing what a normal home looked like. They'd had homes once, so long ago that only a few memories remained. Jack took the cowboy hat off of his head, running his finger around the brim as he scanned the room, shelf upon shelf of bookends meeting his gaze. It helped to explain why a book was always in Eppie's hand.
Say there son, Jack jumped at the sound of Mr. Richard's voice, so close to him that he was startled back to the welcome mat. Mr. Richards chuckled heartily and dropped the few books remaining in his stack onto the front counter of the shop. It was littered with papers, a calendar and a misshapen stamp pad. You're that there boy who helped with the strike last year.
Yes sir, that's me. Jack confirmed, still nervously fumbling with his hat.
That was a brave thing you did. Mr. Richard's smiled, placing a hand on Jack's back and walking with him further into the center of the room. You know, they say I've got a knack for reading people Jack swallowed nervously—did this man know his secret? and for reading books Mr. Richards broke into another round of laughter, patting Jack on the back to encourage his laughter also, which was stifled and forced.
But seriously, Jack bit his lip abruptly and ceased all amount of previous laughter. I know people, and I know books, so it only makes sense that I know which books suit which people. In your case he disappeared into one of the rows of book shelves, calling out behind him until silence filled the room.
He appeared a moment later, in his hand one of the customary plain covered books that filled his shelves. This is just the book. Jack accepted the book being offered to him, turning it over delicately in his hands as he'd seen Les and Eppie do so many times before. And he was just about to thank Mr. Richards, a wide grin across the old man's lips as he waited for confirmation that he had in fact picked Jack's perfect book, when Eppie skipped down the stairs.
Oh Papa, she swept into the room, grabbing the book from Jack's hands and scanning the cover. Don't give him this one! She turned back to Jack, the book and her hands tucked behind her back. He's always trying to push this book on someone, just because it was his favorite. Did he tell you it was your match?
Jack smiled, reaching behind her to grab the book and kissing her cheek warmly as he did so. Now that Eppie was here, beaming her usual rosy cheeks in his direction, he was a little more secure with himself. I'll check it out.
Eppie was surprised at how proper he was acting, the respect he showed her father reaching new heights when he accepted the book she assumed he'd ditch in a matter of days. She laughed lightly, the sound pulling both her father and Jack's attention. Well then, I think I have a better pick. She playfully teased her father, pinching him lightly on her way into one of the rows. When she returned, the book in her hands was thinner and made of a paperback cover. She stopped in front of Jack and held up the book so that he could slip it from her fingers. It's like those cowboy books you have in your back pocket, although more accurate and with an actual plot.
Her father laughed in agreement and Eppie called up the stairs for Anna and her mother. Jack watched as the dimming sunset light only highlighted the porcelain quality of her features. For some reason, the fact that she'd noticed his affinity for trashy adventure paperbacks, stuck somewhere deep.
Before he could focus on it much longer, Anna entered the room, gaining praise from Spot at how beautiful she looked. Jokes were passed around and Eppie was comfortable enough to slip next to him, even in her mother's hawk-like presence.
Here are the coats, boys. Mrs. Richard's passed out the two heavy winter jackets, exclaiming in surprise at how thin their originals were. You're lucky Henri's kept those for so long. This winter has been ten times worse than past years.
Yes ma'm Jack agreed, smiling more at Eppie, her nimble fingers helping him into the jacket and fixing his collar before slipping into her own coat. The two shared a secret laugh and watched as Spot received a new round of questioning.
She was so excited when I told her he was escorting Anna, Eppie whispered into Jack's ear. That's what she called it, escorting. Thank goodness too, or else I wouldn't have been able to stand living in this house for the past week. It's all she's been talking about. Jack smirked, sneaking another kiss to her temple before she swatted him gently. When he looked up he noticed Mr. Richards watching them closely, his cheeks blushing in embarrassment even as he nodded a polite good-bye.
Eppie kissed her parents while Anna and Spot received quick hugs from Mrs. Richards. Have fun children! She called, leaning out of the front door as the four made their way down the street.
Your parents are so cute. Anna teased, bouncing around next to Spot, her arm looped through his. He'd seemed eager to speak with Mrs. Richards, a surprising realization for both Eppie and Jack, particularly Jack, who had assumed Spot's silence on the walk down stemmed from a foul mood.
Eppie buried her head into Jack's shoulder, his arm resting around her waist as both him and Spot teased her. You can have them then.
Oh, don't be so harsh. All three of us would give anything for your family. Wouldn't you boys? Jack and Spot nodded eagerly with Anna's assumption.
What? How can you say such a thing. Eppie reached across Jack and poked Anna mischievously, Give up all those lacy things, fancy carriage rides. You lie.
Like a rug! Anna burst into giddy laughter, her energy threatening to penetrate into her three friends. By the time they reached the end of the street all were ready for a night on the town, too excited to stroll and eager to reach Manhattan.
Spot and Anna sped up, trying to negotiate a ride over the bridge. Many people were riding into the city for the day's festivities and were up for a couple hitch hikers. They secured four seats on the back of a families' farm wagon, the parents riding up front and seating their babies in their laps.
Eppie held Jack back for a moment, the traffic crossing the bridge causing the carriage to remain where it was. Jack, do tell me where we're heading. She pleaded, hooking her hands onto his elbow.
He slipped free, hands held up in defense and partly afraid that her doe like eyes would convince him to spill. Eppie ran after him, dodging other pedestrians and jumping on the back of the wagon after him. She pouted next to Anna, who had only moments before tried the same tactic with Spot, failing just the same. Jack smiled at her expression, cuffing her chin lightly and looking to Spot for some sort of support.
But Spot was in no mood for playing back-up and Jack caught his knitted brow before he could change it into a bright smile for Anna's sake.
He was beginning to understand his friend's mood swings.
The ride through town was as entertaining as the evening he had planned. People swarmed the streets, making driving a chore but setting an atmosphere of excitement and cheerfulness that was contagious. The four almost missed their stop, hoping off just in time and waving a quick goodbye to their gracious chauffeur. Eppie allowed Jack to drag her through the crowds, an old man offering flowers to both Anna and herself.
Flowers in January, Anna cooed, breaking off the stem and placing it in her hair. She let go of Spot's arm, twirling in place as they waited outside a large, plain faced building. Eppie just sniffed her present peacefully, watching as Jack shuffled out of nervousness. She found it endearing that he wanted the night to go so well. The door opened, the warm air from inside meeting the cold to create a wall of steam. Speechlessly, Jack offered Eppie his hand, seducing her with a smile before pulling her inside.
Everything was so fuzzy that it took her a moment to focus. Slowly the sounds separated. Up on stage was a big band, trumpets blaring and a dazzling singer in gold and silver sequins. The bar was to the left, leading into a quieter back room for the adventureous card player. To the right were levels upon levels of tables, moving in an accordian step to the ceiling where and open door led to behind the scenes. And directly in front, was the dance floor, dresses whipping up to reveal high heels, defined calves and knees covered in silk stockings. Eppie stood still in amazement, Anna stumbling next to her, at the world Jack had discovered in the seemingly ordinary factory building.
She turned to speak to him, her hands coming up as if she were about to motion towards something. But before she could concentrate her thoughts, organize them into logical sentence structure, she was whisked off towards the tables, her raised arms resting on Jack's shoulder as he guided her waist. Her head turned this way and that, observing each new sight, filled with the rainbow of languages that surrounded her. The only familiar and constant figure was Anna, in much the same state, moving behind her.
They came upon a table on the third or fourth level, some of the other newsies already present. A chorus of voices welcomed her and as Jack helped to remove her coat Race was the first face to return to focus. You look a littleoverwhelmed, Miss Richards.
She laughed, letting her head fall backwards in effortless bliss.
Jack watched the arc of her neck, subconsciously licking his lips. I'll get the drinks, he spoke directly into her ear and she nodded to show she understood, quickly swooped into Skittery's arms. They waltzed awkwardly around the table, her cries of laughter drowning into the surrounding noise as Jack moved further from the table.
He made it to the bar with little difficulty, his reputation parting a path. Most of the people present were newsies, or working class young adults, each one somehow affected by the strike. They were celebrating that success as much as the war's. He ordered over the din, resting against the bar to scan the surroundings. And although a pretty brunette was eyeing him from down the line, he focused on another hunched figure, meeting them after a moment's hesitation.
Anna's with us?
Spot swallowed the first half of his glass, producing another just as full as he turned.
Jack stopped him from leaving so quickly. I said, Anna's with us, he pointed to the raised level, at the table. Spot nodded and this time slipped away, feeling the urge to wipe at the arm Jack had been holding; or possibly saw it off. The anger caused him to down the rest of his drink, the burning now present in his stomach a necessary torture.
For it was all his fault.
The past couple weeks he'd watched the slow motion process of Eppie's eventual doom. He'd watched Jack sweep into her life, disturb it slightly in the beginning but then settle like he normally did. They stood close to each other. She beamed upon sighting him. The beauty of her features, once hidden by the trepadation in her walk now radiated. By this point she was long gone, there was no turning back; her heart would be broken and it was all his fault.
Noivous Spot? Blink rested a hand on his shoulder, moving through the crowd as he shouted. Looks like Jack's got that goil in da palm of his hand. Betta start tinking of what you'se gonna owe Before Spot could respond, Blink disappeared, the mass of people pushing them both in opposite directions and he returned to bringing Anna her drink.
It pulled at him, his involvement, because as much as he wished she hadn't walked into Tibby's that morning, he had to credit her with the best part of his own life. Settling Anna's drink on the table, he watched her arm wrestle a more that tipsy Mush. Her features were so seriously set until the mighty newsie's hand smacked his side of the table and she erupted into the joyous cheers he loved so much.
He couldn't give up Anna.
That was why he'd let the bet continue.
Spot, oh, did ya see me. She beamed at him, settling in his lap and kissing his cheek. He smiled also, wiping her hair off the side of her face, letting his hand linger there for a moment while she swallowed most of her drink. She began to cough from drinking so much so fast, the cough evolving into a giggle as she placed the drink down and covered her mouth with her hand.
Before he could tease her Jack appeared, a whole tray of drinks for the table. And the turning in his stomach returned as Eppie bounced up to him and spoke into his ear, Jack's arm gently wrapping around her waist to pull her closer to hear her better. They broke into easy laughter after a moment and Spot couldn't help but stare.
Race pushed aside one drink after the other. Where's da liquor?
Jack glanced away from Eppie. Ah, well I was tinking
You were tinking Race teased lightly, a knowing smirk on his face. Next time you buy, get it right will ya Kelly. But he grabbed a glass anyway before turning back to his conversation with the others.
Eppie asked, Are you serious?
He nodded. Course, you'se right. Why do ya need liquor when you can have fun with out it. Spot scoffed, rolling his eyes and laughing in a less than friendly tone. Problem, Conlon?
Spot took a sip of the beverage Jack had provided, spitting in back into the glass a moment later. he wiped at his mouth, you're full of shit.
Jack's arm slipped from around Epppie's waist as he leaned forward on the table, both arms supporting him as he challenged Spot's steady gaze. With the tension out in the open between the two, Anna jumped to her feet, looking from one to the other. Finally she settled on Eppie for some sort of explanation only to find her friend just as confused.
You not drinkin' Spot straightened in his seat, meeting Jack face to face. Impossible seeing as how it runs in da family and all
Race swooped in, twisting Anna away from Spot and snatching Eppie by the elbow also. He whistled for his friend, motioning with his head as he ushered the girls towards the dance floor.
On his feet, Skittery left Jack and Spot to their troubles, adding as a last resort, Don't kill each otha. I've got me own goil to take home
Jack raked a chair across the floor, about to sit down when Spot stood. What's all this, Spot? Why you being such a fucker.
I'm just surprised Jack-boy. You're really pulling out all da ropes aren't ya. He chuckled almost manically. She hasn't kissed ya yet, Kelly. No kiss, no cash.
He was about to walk away when Jack gripped his shirt, yanking him back with such force that he stumbled into his seat. We haven't settled what I get when I win, Spot. Who says I want cash
That's what I'se saying, Jack. You haven't won yet. And ya only gots He glanced at his pocket watch, swinging it in front of Jack's face as he read the time. Tree hours.
Don't be doubting me now, Conlon. She's right where I want her, unaware and unassuming.
At the obvious reference to Eppie, Spot stood again. Fine Jack, use her like de othas. But after tonight it's over. With that, he spun on his heel, pushing his way through the crowd towards the exit. Jack watched as Anna met him along the way, her face one of obvious concern as Spot pulled her with him. He figured Spot needed a little air.
Sitting down with a sigh, Jack realized for the first time how exhausted he was. The whole week had been building to this moment and it had caused knots to form in his shoulders. On top of that, his best friend was pissed at him. Yet, worst of all was Eppie.
Spot had reminded him: after tonight everything was over. He no longer had an excuse to surround her. And he wasn't exactly sure how that made him feel.
Pushing the negative out of his mind he allowed his friends' excitement to mask his own reservation. He got pulled into a card game, gossiping like men do when women aren't around, and finishing the drinks he'd brought. Gradually the group noticed people skipping down the stairs, all gathering in a ring around the dance floor. They stood, trying to peer above the heads but were still unable to see.
Jack reached for one of the boys running down the steps, Hey, what's all this about?
The boy turned and slapped Jack on the shoulder. Heya Jack!
Dink, how've ya been?'
The boy was a frequent visitor to Medda's, in result meeting Jack on every occasion. He was friendly enough, but ran with a crowd Jack knew only meant trouble. At this point in the night, he seemed to have had quite a few drinks, leaning heavily against Jack as he asked, Good, yourself? Got a goil.
Yea, she's wit me tonight. Dink rolled his eyes as if to show that he realized how stupid his question had been. But what's all dis you'se lookin at?
They had been moving down the steps, growing closer to the crowd. Someone's dancing something heavy.
It was common for couples to showcase their dancing abilities at such parties, putting on the best entertainment of the night. Sometimes other challenged until an obvious winner was chosen by the crowd's enthusiasm. Everything was on friendly terms and each borough had a their share of talent.
Jack stretched on his toes to see if Mush or Bumlets were one of the pair in the center. Jack, ova here. He followed Dink towards a couple of chairs, their height adding to his own and being just enough for him to see. Right as Dink began to fall off, Jack reaching to grab him, he caught the spanning fan of red curls as the couple spun apart.
There she was, dress hiked up to her knees, kicking her feet, twisting her hips and footing it across the floor. Her moves were nothing like the current style of dance. Instead, she flowed with a country style, the music reflecting the traditional folk atmosphere that many of the ethnic neighborhoods still contained.
Jack himself knew a couple Irish jigs.
On stage, the band put away the brass, opting instead for a handful of string instruments. The dominating fiddle and banjo reminded Jack of his favorite childhood memory when the neighborhood would gather together one hot summer night, the men showcasing the musical talents they'd brought with them from the old country, their wives scuffing on the cobblestone streets. Watching as she spun pulled him right back to that place, a vulnerable part of his past he was careful to shield.
What knocked him out of the daydream, besides letting go of Dink so that the boy toppled to the ground, was Anna rushing into the middle with her. Skittery was standing off to the side, clapping with the rest of the crowd as Anna picked up mid-step and continued as the steps repeated themselves. Soon the crowd swarmed closer, breaking into couples themselves to try their own at the dance. It seemed others knew forms of the folk step; the music certainly appealing to their own diverse heritages.
He moved through the crowd, keeping her in sight and noticing how his friends stared. Earlier that night they'd been whispering about who the new girl on Jack Kelly's arm was, as if she weren't worthy to be with him. Now, she had caused her own buzz and he liked the second standing status it bumped him to. She was no longer just his date, stepping out of the mold many girls had never been able to breach.
He stopped behind Skittery, her current partner. Hey, kid, let me cut in.
And Skittery was going to oblige, knowing that his own date was probably searching for him. But Eppie held firm to his hand and shoulder as he moved to release her to Jack's grasp. She spun so that Skittery still stood between them, a teasing smile across her lips. What do you think this is Kelly, Her feet continued a slower version of the steps she'd been performing earlier and the exercise had flushed her cheeks, creating a healthy glow Jack suddenly found overwhelmingly attractive. I promised this man a whole dance and he's gonna get one. Besides, I've heard you've got two left feet. As she spoke the last sentence, she leaned towards him, one hand blocking her mouth as if she were spilling a great secret.
Jack took the opportunity to grasp her free hand, Skittery letting her slip easily from his own. Eppie closed her eyes as Jack twirled her out and then back, proving her wrong with his quick feet and supportive arms.
It was on the dance floor they remained until the band broke for the night and the dance floor slowly drained of heated bodies. She'd never moved that much in one night, dancing with each one of the new friends she'd made over the past couple weeks. And Les, making a quick appearance before heading home for bed, was the only man Jack let cut in half way through a song.
Only moments after the roar of applause had settled could the crashes from outside be heard, causing a current to push towards the exits. Eppie burst into the streets, no winter coat needed as long as she had Jack close by, staring wide eyed at the fireworks above, each one echoing within her. With Jack's chest pressed to her back she could feel the energy of each blast moving through both of them and she shivered from it all. Pulling away from him she turned so that the fireworks were to her back, illuminating the color of her hair as Jack caught her face. She seemed about to cry, or too weak to stand, gripping his hands with such force that he bent to ask her what was wrong. It was then, with a tenderness Jack had never received from any woman in his life, that she held his face in her hands before brushing his lips with her own.
Here, just—just put your foot He was taking such care with her, cradling her arms, grabbing so tightly for fear she'd fall that it began to ache. When he did let go of her, only for a second while he swung himself up to the ledge, he rushed with an awkwardness she'd only seen herself possess.
she laughed, playing along only because of his sudden strange behavior. I'm fine. Her feet hit the rooftop and he exhaled the breath he'd been holding. She smiled at him, breaking into a funny face to juxtapose his serious one and tucking the scarf tighter into his neck.
He spun on his heel while watching her explore the rooftop. So this is the Lodging House, huh?
Letting him tuck her close into a hug, she rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him and whispering deviously, Can I go inside?
His laugh shook her head and she turned, resting her ear as his chest rose to take a deep breath. Sorry, goils are off limits. Kloppman's rules, not mine.
Oh no, she joked, Certainly not yours. Stepping backwards she raised an eyebrow at his own surprised voice.
He lunged for her, trying to catch her in another hug but she scampered away. Where'd you hear that He asked, trotting after her and settling on the ledge where she sat. She shrugged, swinging her feet over the side and dangling them impishly. Eppie, don't— The tone of his voice caught her attention and she listened intently as he leaned in closer. you know not to believe everything you hear bout me, right?
Turning away she resumed kicking, feeling as he shifted his own legs. They sat shoulder to shoulder, facing in opposite directions on the rooftop ledge. What I know about Jack Kelly she began, as if reciting a memorized passage for class.
He laughed and the awkward moment was lost among the memories of pleasant ones. Studying the shadow cast against her features in the light he realized this was really one of the only times he'd been alone with her. The other was at the park, right before she left on the wagon. And similar to then, he began to ask her questions, all the things he'd been filing inside his head. She knew about books he'd never read, places he'd never thought of going. People with ideas so unconceivable. Machines that were to light up the world, race across the continent or connect people miles away in seconds.
And she answered, telling him of her home, her family, everything he asked because for the first time it didn't feel strange to be talking so candidly about herself. She told him about her aspirations of becoming a writer, the stories she'd made up as a child, how every situation posed a new story.
He stopped her then, inserting a new question, as if it were a game. he said, watching as she traced his palm with her fingers, no longer ashamed of the rough skin on his knuckles. Do now. What story do you have about now?
She hesitated slightly. Not a story. She began, More of a string of words, a poem maybe. I dunno
No, come on. He persuaded, bending his head so that she couldn't avoid looking at him.
she sighed, rolling out her shoulders, shaking out her arms, making him laugh. She turned on the ledge so that she faced him, legs crossed in front of her. I'd be remembering it, she explained, Like I were telling you about it later, as opposed to right now, trying to get you to remember. He smiled but said nothing so that she could continue uninterrupted. I remember, She looked at the sky, Stormy weather. Her smile caught his. The way the sky looks when it's cold.
Her eyes returned to his hands, the peaceful tone in her voice pulling him closer. And you were with meSo unaware of the world.
He was about to gently ask her to continue after her silence began to stretch longer than a natural pause, but she raised her eyes slowly, so exposing and catching Jack off guard. Please don't take me home tonight, I don't want to be alone.
It seemed she'd stepped out of the pretend story, the longing in her voice frightening Jack slightly. He reached to reassure her, soothe her worries as best he could but before he spoke she croaked another plea.
Please don't take me home tonight cause I don't wanna go.
