The usual disclaimer applies. I don't own anything but my furniture and
about 300 books. No profit is made. If it were, I'd be writing this on a
beach in Hawaii.
A Heart's Longing
How did I end up here? How did I lose control and let my guard down, so that I ended up sitting here on this damn uncomfortable fire escape, freezing to death in the snow? I'm staring through the window into the warm, bright room inside, wishing with all my might that I could be a part of what I see. Knowing all the while, that I can't. I don't belong there, no matter how much I wish it to be. Suddenly, it's all I can do to keep from bawling like a damn baby.
You ever want something so badly that you'd give anything, say anything, do anything to get it? Something you knew no matter what you did, you could never have? Want it so badly that your heart just ached for it, and it was all you thought of every night when it got dark and the quiet pressed all around you?
I did. Of course, that ache had been there for years but sort of pushed to the back of my mind. The years had worn it to a dull pain that I could ignore without much thought. Except at night. It took a little work at night.
A few weeks ago, something happened that reawakened the sharp, stabbing pain of longing I'd learned to ignore. And, worse, made me jealous of three of my friends. That, I'm ashamed of. I said and did things that I wish I could take back. That's the trouble with words. You can use them to hurt and, once spoken, they can never be undone. The very sound of them lingers in the memory.
I never have learned to think before I speak.
Fortunately, the best thing about friends is their willingness to forgive us our weaknesses. It helped that Jack had been there, and sorta knew what I was feelin'. Les was too young to understand, or realize anything had been going on. Dave, though-now Dave was harder. He couldn't really understand. And I'm glad he couldn't. I'm glad he didn't have the experience I had, so he'd know how I felt. And I'm still a little jealous. I can't help it.
It all started Thanksgiving, I guess. Or, maybe the day before....
******
It was cold. Colder than usual for that time o' year, and windy. The kind of wind that just blows right through ya. It was going to be a bitter cold winter, we could tell. Already boys were trickling in to the Lodgin' House to sleep at night. More than we usually had this time of year. We'd be doubling up in the beds in a few weeks.
Typically, we doubled up the little kids first. They was small enough that they still had room in the bed, plus it kept them warm at night without havin' to scrounge up more blankets. Us older kids would be sharin' soon enough. Or sneakin' off to the smaller room Kloppman uses as an infirmary to sleep, if there wasn't any sick kids in there. Hey, us older kids earned the right to sleep in our own beds. Just survivin' that long says something.
Anyways, it was the day before Thanksgiving. Kloppman woke us up at five in the mornin', as usual. I really hate the sound of that man's voice early in the mornin'. I hate the sound of anything that early in the mornin'.
I dragged myself out of bed and grabbed my vest. I was already mostly dressed, having slept in my pants, shirt and socks to keep warm. I'd need to wash my spare shirt some time today. I really did need to buy a new one, but hated the thought of spending the money. Not that I had all that much to begin with. Maybe one of the guys had outgrown one of theirs.
Hardly anybody got hand-me-downs from me, since it seemed to take a damn long time for me to outgrow anything. I generally wore out my clothes before I could grow out of them.
Ah, well. I grabbed my hat and shoved it into my back pocket, then followed Kid Blink and Mush into the washroom. Mush was laughin' at somethin' Jack said, but Mush is always laughin' at somethin' or other. I smiled at Blink and we both just shook our heads.
Somebody, I think it was Dutchy-hey, don't let the glasses and innocent look fool ya, he can be a prankster-started a shaving soap war. Before ya knew it, soap was flyin' everywhere. It's a wonder nobody got cut with one of the razors. Once it finally ended-Snitch threatened to go, well, snitch to Kloppy-I didn't have to lather soap on my face to shave. It was already there. 'Course, most of us don't really need to shave that often, but it makes us feel older.
Once all of us were ready, if not willing, we ran down the stairs and out the door to begin another day of sellin' papes. Kloppman, as usual, counted us on the way out. He was checkin' for kids who'd maybe snuck in the window and therefore hadn't paid their six cents for board.
If ya sneak in through the window, ya gotta remember to sneak back out through the window. Lesson number one. Lesson number two: if ya have to double up in the winter, don't double up with Snaps. He'll drive ya nuts.
As we horsed around and chased each other down the street, I was already figurin' the best place to sell my papes. The next day was a holiday, and we'd only have one edition instead of the usual two. Three if something really big happened. So, I'd need to sell as many as possible today to make up for less tomorrow.
No, I wasn't going to the tracks. Flat season was over, so no races for me. No more until spring. I'd probably end up sellin' at City Hall Park. I passed by it on the way to the bridge during race season, and sometimes sold a few there before going to the track. Another kid would probably be there, but we could share. Or fight for it. Win or lose, I'd sell papes. Losing got you sympathy from the ladies. Especially if you can manage a few tears.
By the time we'd had our bread and coffee, bitter as always, from the nuns and reached the distribution center, I'd pretty much decided I wasn't in the mood for a fight. Maybe I'd just tag along with Mush and Blink and sell at Central Park. It was big enough for all of us.
In the end, I wound up selling at City Hall Park after all. As we were all lined up to get our papes, I heard Swifty say he heard Paddy had been run over by a streetcar the day before. Paddy was the kid that sold at City Hall Park. I kinda felt bad for sellin' at the spot that was open just 'cause some poor newsie was killed. But, ya gotta do what ya gotta do, to sell your papes.
Making my way to the park, I cursed the wind that found its way inside my jacket and the three layers I wore under it. The hand that wasn't carrying my papes was shoved in my trouser pocket, seeking warmth that couldn't be found. If I didn't buy a new shirt, maybe I'd buy some gloves instead. And a scarf. Jeez, it was cold.
It's harder to sell on a cold, windy day like that. The gray clouds hung overhead, heavy with promised rain. Or maybe even sleet. I couldn't tell if it was cold enough for that. I hoped it wasn't.
Yep, on a day like that you really had to be creative with the headlines. I used every trick I knew that day, to sell my papes. I even threw in the pitiful, stuttering newsboy routine. That got me a few tips.
There were a few advantages of being small and looking younger than you actually were. When my hands are freezing and my nose is running from the cold, I'll use pity. If it buys me a bed and dinner, I'll take it. I ain't that proud. Not in the winter. Pride can kill ya in the winter.
At least my feet were warm.
I'd lost my savings when I'd hired Spot Conlon and his Brooklyn newsies to look after Jack and the fellas back in the summer. I was in trouble, and that trouble threatened my friends. Spot made sure nothin' happened to them. Over the last few months, I got most of it back from sellin' papes and winnin' poker.
Although, I got a sneaking suspicion Spot let me win some of it. I'm good, yeah, but Spot ain't that bad. I didn't say anything, because I knew he really didn't want to keep my money in the first place. He feels better, and I kept my reputation. It was a win-win situation.
I used the money to buy a good new pair of boots. With matchin' laces, even. I may not be growing taller, but my feet are growing longer. Maybe the rest of me just ain't caught up yet. When the old man that sold me the boots got a good look at the state of my socks, he threw in a new pair for free since the new boots had taken most of my money. I gave my old shoes to Snipeshooter. Nothin' goes to waste around the Lodgin' House. If it don't fit you, it'll fit another kid.
Anyways, pickin's were slim that day. I sold all but ten of my papes and after another fruitless hour, knew that was all I was gonna sell. Even fifty was a good number on a day like that, so I didn't feel too bad. I left the park to head back to the distribution center.
See, after we had our strike, The World agreed to buy back our unsold papers. At least I'd get my money back from the papes I had left. Which was about the only good thing about the day. Maybe it is bad luck to sell on some dead kid's spot.
I was walkin' down the street, tryin' to decide how many afternoon papes I'd buy later, when some damn fool telegraph messenger ran me down with his bicycle. A little kid got away from his mother and ran out into the street. The messenger didn't see him until it was too late and had to swerve. Unfortunately for me, I was in his way. I saw him coming, but just didn't have time to move.
One of his handlebars caught me in the chest and we both went down. Boy, did that hurt. I fell backwards, losing my papes and skinning both me elbows as I hit the cobblestones. The messenger flew off his bicycle and landed on top of me. His head hit my face, and it felt like my cheek exploded.
The crazy dame with the kid had the nerve to yell at us. Somethin' or other about trying to get her little boy killed. Like walkin' down the street, mindin' my own business is against the law or somethin'. Some people are nuts, if you ask me.
The messenger finally managed to untangle himself from both the bicycle and me and climbed to his feet. His nose was bleeding, probably from the impact with my face. As he began to inspect his bicycle for damage, I got to my knees and gathered up my scattered papes. Two were torn and useless. Great. Now I only had eight to sell back.
Then the guy starts to yell at me about the damage to his bicycle. Told me I'd have to pay for the repairs. I told him he could try and take it from me. Stupid kid thought since he was bigger than me, he could do it. Next thing ya know, we're rollin' around on the ground again.
I didn't even hear the cop run up to us. It wasn't until my shirt collar suddenly tried to strangle me as someone pulled me up, that I realized the bulls had come to break up our little disagreement. Well, I knew who'd come up with the short end of the stick in this one. The respectable messenger in his bright uniform jacket, or the ragged newsie?
Yep, I'd lose.
Sure enough, the messenger starts yellin' about how I knocked him off his bike and dented it and now he's got a bloody nose. The copper didn't even bother to get my side of the story, just grabbed my jacket and started shaking me. He was yellin' something or other about jail or an orphanage, but I didn't stick around to hear the rest of it. I jerked on a coupla buttons and loosened my jacket. I managed to squirm out of it, blew them both a raspberry, and took off running.
Snyder may not be running the refuge anymore, but one corrupt official is just as bad as any other. Better food or not, the place was still a jail for kids. I did my time in the refuge as a kid and I ain't goin' back there.
Once I was out of sight of the cop, I slowed down and turned toward Central Park, more than a little angry. Now I was out the whole ten papes, and my coat. No papes to sell back, I'd lost my jacket, my chest hurt and I was pretty sure I had another shiner. Seemed to me that I'd pretty much kept a shiner since the strike. One black eye would no sooner heal, than I'd get another one.
Maybe it'd help me sell papes tomorrow. It would be all kinds of colors by tomorrow morning. Gets ya sympathy from the hoity-toity dames who think they're doin' ya a favor by buyin' your papes. Like a coupla copper pennies is gonna make my life so much better. Crazy broads.
By the time I found Mush and Blink at Central Park, I was in a pretty sour mood. Taking a deep breath, I closed the gap between me and my friends. I knew they was gonna mess with me about the new shiner. I was right.
"Hey, Racetrack! Nice shiner."
Mush thought he was such a comedian. "Hey Mush."
"You lose another bet, Race?"
Blink was laughing and nudging Mush. As if Mush wasn't already laughing and pointing at my face. I thought I'd set the record straight, before they started making up whoppers about me losing some bet.
"No, I didn't lose a bet, ya bum. I got run over by a telegraph messenger."
Okay, so maybe I shoulda let them spread stories of some daring bet I'd made and lost. I thought they were gonna fall over, they was laughin' so hard. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It'll sell forty papes tomorrow, easy."
"If you say so, Race." Blink was even worse when he was patronizing. And, yeah, I know what that word means. I looked it up in Kloppy's dictionary, after reading it in a story once. I like to know as many words as I can, so I can use 'em to improve the lousy headlines.
"C'mon, Race. You can help us finish selling our papes."
I took the papes Mush handed me, but thought I'd mess with him a little. "What's in it for me?"
Sharing a look with Blink, Mush shrugged his shoulders and smiled at me. "I'll buy ya a cuppa coffee to warm ya up, seein' as how you seem to have lost your jacket somewhere along the way."
Did I mention Mush and Blink were my pals? "Sure, I'll help ya."
I took a few papes from each and wandered down the block a little ways then decided to cross the street and sell on the other side. I was less likely to take customers from them that way.
People were in a hurry, bustling down the street in their haste to get outta the wind. Getting them to stop and buy a newspaper is an art, let me tell ya. You have to sort of plant yourself right in their way, so they hafta stop. If you can get 'em to stop, 9 times outta 10 you'll get 'em to buy a pape just so they can leave and get on with their business.
With no jacket and holes in the elbows of my shirtsleeves, I looked a mess. Add to that my rapidly swelling cheek and eye and I was certainly an object of pity. I used their pity, and had them buying my papes out of sheer guilt. They were warm, in clean clothes and didn't get soaked that morning. Their day was already a hundred times better than mine. It made 'em feel better to give the poor kid a nickel.
So far, I was makin' a profit on Mush and Blink's papes. I'd buy my own coffee. Maybe the day was lookin' a little better. I sold my last pape to some ditzy dame I thought was actually gonna break down and cry. She was ravin' on and on about the fate of humanity or some such load of nonsense. Crazy old bat. I got a dime out of her, though, so I wish her long life.
By the time I made it back to Mush and Blink, they'd finished selling their papes so we all headed over to Tibby's for lunch. I gave 'em the pennies for the papes they'd given me, plus a little extra. I still ended up with more than I woulda gotten for those lost ten papes.
By the time we got to Tibby's Blink had almost had Mush talked into letting one of us give him a shiner, so they'd have better luck sellin' papes tomorrow. Almost. Mush may be a little naïve, but he ain't stupid. It was fun messin' with him, though.
The burst of warm air that greeted us when Blink opened the door made me shiver. My face was tingly from the cold and my nose dripped like the pump in the washroom back at the Lodgin' House. I was grateful for the heat inside Tibby's, let me tell ya. I followed Mush and Blink to the back, where Jack sat at a table with a few of the other fellas.
Everyone asked me questions at once, about the shiner and my missing coat. I took my time sitting down, making 'em wait and trying to figure out the best way of improvin' the truth. Hey, where d'ya think Jack learned it from? Me and Skittery taught him. I learned it from a Brooklyn kid named Big Tom who sold out at the races. Don't know where Skitts got it from. Never asked him. Big Tom got caught up with some mean characters out at the track about five years ago, and was sent up the river to Sing Sing. But, that's another story.
Since I'd already told Kid Blink and Mush the truth, I figured there wasn't a way to stretch the truth seein' as how they'd just tell what really happened. So, I told the guys how it really was. You ain't never heard such a racket in Tibby's since the strike. I though Boots was gonna fall outta his chair. Until I slapped him upside the head for laughin' at me.
'Course, all that got me was a slap upside my own head from Jack. Then another from Boots. Ya know, I really wasn't havin' a good day. Jack was laughing with the others, but I could see the concern in his eyes. He knew as well as I did that I'd have to come up with the money for a new coat. Winter was gonna be bad. A kid could die in that kinda cold with no coat.
I smiled at him that cocky smile of mine, to let him know I'd take care of myself. I'd find a way to get the money. Sell more papes, find some poker games or sell my watch. Okay, so I wouldn't actually sell the watch. I'd freeze first. But, Jack didn't need to know that.
After lunch, I went back to the lodgin' house and pulled my spare shirt on over my other one. Two shirts, an undershirt and my vest were better than nothing. I talked to Kloppy for a little while, convincing him I was okay and that I wasn't in danger of being dragged off by the bulls. After checking the time, I headed over to the distribution center to get the evening papes.
If it was cold before, it was downright freezing now. I was starting to wish I'd brought the blanket off my bed. When I caught up to the other fellas standing in line, I wedged myself between Jack and Davy, hoping they'd block the wind and maybe provide a little warmth. I think Dave was a little annoyed at first.
"Do you mind, Racetrack? I was here first."
I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and pressed even closer to Jack. I started to smart off to Dave, but Jack beat me to it.
"Leave him alone, Dave. He can do whatever he needs to, to keep warm. He ain't got a nice thick coat like you do."
I was a little surprised that Jack would talk like that to his new best friend. I think David was, too.
"Sorry, Jack." He shrugged at me, and sort of smiled an apology. "I didn't mean anything by it, Race."
"If you're really sorry, you'll stand a little closer and keep the wind off me." Damn, it was cold.
He was laughing, but Dave did what I told him to. We inched our way to the window and got our papes. I usually sit down on the platform and go over the headlines before leaving the yard, but it was too cold to do that tonight. As Skittery passed by me, I reached out and snagged his sleeve.
"Hey, Skitts, you sellin' at Grand Central tonight?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Mind if I sell with ya?" It'd be warm inside Grand Central Station. And outta the wind.
Skittery shrugged his indifference and nodded. "Sure. I'll take one side, you take the other."
"It's a deal."
He may be a little gloomy sometimes, but Skittery ain't so bad. I don't often sell with anybody, but I don't mind sellin' with him. He's quiet and keeps to himself. Suits me just fine.
By the time the two of us finished selling our papes, it was late. People were just in too big a hurry to stop and buy a paper from a newsboy. It took a long time to get rid of all the papes. It was too late to get anything to eat anywhere, since everyone had closed up shop. Skittery and I had split a pretzel at Grand Central and that would have to do.
I don't know about Skitts, but I was too tired and cold to be hungry anyway. We weren't the only ones out 'til way after dark. Jack was walking towards us as we headed for the door of the lodgin' house. Mush and Blink were just paying their board when we went in.
"Any luck, you guys?"
Kid Blink just shot me a sour look and Mush frowned. "Not much. We finally took the rest of our papes back to the World."
"It took forever, but I finally sold all mine."
Yeah, well, Jack was one of the best. He could sell a pape to a blind man. "Same with us."
We all paid our six cents and trudged up the stairs to the dorm. I briefly thought of washing my face and hands, but just the hint of that cold water made me shiver. Most of the younger kids were already huddled into bed. Jack put some wood on the fire in the stove and waved the rest of us into the washroom to have a meeting. "We need to start making plans for the winter, guys."
He was right. Already I counted two more boys than we'd had when we left this morning. "We're gonna run out of beds this year."
The others began to murmur their disagreement, but Skittery agreed with me. He was here when we'd had a really bad winter about seven years ago. In fact, that's how I ended up at the lodgin' house. I'd lived in our flat for as long as I could, paying the rent with my earnings from bein' a newsie. Our landlord was crooked, though, and as soon as he realized my old man had beat it and left me alone, he tossed me out on my rear. Literally. I lived on the street for about three months, but winter came. And it hit hard.
I was just one of five kids to show up that night. I slept in a bed with three other little kids, and was grateful for the warmth. Three weeks later, I was sleepin' on the floor with a dozen other kids. We'd simply run out of room.
If this winter was as bad as that one, and it was gearing up to be worse, then we'd end up with the same problem. We'd need more blankets. And mattresses, too, if we could come up with them.
"Jack, we need to check the attic to see what we got up there. Kloppy put some mattresses up there a coupla years ago. I think there might be some blankets in a trunk."
Nodding thoughtfully, Skittery crossed his arms and frowned. "We might wanna think about starting a pool of money now, for what we'll need later. We can always divide up what we don't spend."
"Skittery's right. We're gonna need more wood, if nothing else."
Mush had a point. We'd be using it more than normal, if we were in for a bad winter. "He's right. We ain't gonna sell as much this winter, either. Everybody might as well accept that now. If we're all gonna eat, and feed all the kids that'll be coming soon, we're gonna need money for food. Food we can eat here. It's cheaper that way, than buyin' our meals at Tibby's."
"Race is right. Better to sock away money now when we have it, than to wait 'til we're scraping for every penny. We can always give it back if we don't use it. Kloppman can keep it in his lock box."
From the look on Jack's face, he didn't mean that as a suggestion. We all knew it would have to be done. We all nodded our agreement, then Blink had another idea. "Some of the kids coming in won't have clothes warm enough to survive the winter. We need to scrape around and gather up what we can find to make sure everyone has something warm to wear."
He certainly wasn't going to get an argument from me. Of course, now I was in a real pickle. Did I spend what I had on a new jacket, or put it in the pot for everyone to use? I could always just use my blanket as a coat. Not as warm, but it would do in a pinch. As badly as I wanted to use the money on myself, I knew damn well I would share it with the others. We were a family. That's what families do.
With a sigh, I nudged Dutchy. "Take up a collection. We'll get money from the other kids in the morning."
Dutchy whipped off his cap and held it out. We all dug deep into our pockets and put nearly all our money into the hat. We all kept just enough to buy our papes tomorrow and a little for lunch. We all then raided our savings, wherever we'd hidden it, and added that to the growing winter fund. Jack emptied the money into his cowboy hat and headed downstairs to give it to Kloppman to keep safe for us.
Me, Mush and Blink headed up to the attic to see what we could find, while the others went to bed. There wasn't much up there, besides dust and a few trunks. Mush found a stack of mattresses in the corner behind a broken bed. There were seven of them and they'd all need to be aired out and beaten with a broom to get rid of the dust.
"We can take care of those tomorrow after we sell our papes." I waved toward the trunks, and knelt down to open one. "Let's see what's in these. Hopefully, there'll be some blankets in here."
The one I opened had some old clothes of assorted sizes. My rotten luck continued, though. There were two coats in the trunk, but both were way too small. "Damn. Well, here's some clothes and a coupla coats. The coats are too small for me, though. What've you guys got?"
Mush waved a hand in front of his face to fan away a cloud of dust and sneezed. "Well, they're a little moth-eaten, but there's a bunch of blankets in here. What about you, Blink?"
"Same here." Blink held one up and we could clearly see they were a little hole-riddled. "Maybe Kloppy can sew up the holes."
Well, it was a safe bet none of us would. I could sew on a button, but that was about the extent of my skills with a needle and thread. The rest of the guys were no better. "Maybe Jack can sweet-talk Sarah into fixing them for us, if Kloppy can't."
Sarah was Sarah Jacobs, Dave's sister. She and Jack had sort of been together since the strike. Some of the guys thought they'd end up getting married, but I wasn't so sure. It depended on whether Jack made anything of himself once he stopped hawkin' headlines. Sarah came from a regular family. You know-mother, father, brothers. People like that are different than orphans and street rats like us. Sarah wouldn't be happy with Jack, unless he could support her.
"I'm sure Kloppy can do it."
I think Blink just didn't want Sarah doing anything for us. For some reason, she rubbed him the wrong way. I know he tried to hide it from Jack, but he couldn't fool Mush and me.
Me and Mush shared a look and we both shrugged. I closed the lid of the trunk I'd been rummaging in and dusted my hands on my pants. "We can clean all this stuff tomorrow. Let's get to bed. I'm tired and it's cold up here."
Later that night as I curled up on my lumpy mattress, under my scratchy wool blanket, I worried. We were gonna hafta work hard to get everybody through the winter this year. We'd really hafta look out for the little kids. And Crutchy. I always worried about Crutchy in the winter. He got sick so easily when it was cold. Medicine was another thing we'd have to save money for.
It took me a long time to get to sleep that night.
A Heart's Longing
How did I end up here? How did I lose control and let my guard down, so that I ended up sitting here on this damn uncomfortable fire escape, freezing to death in the snow? I'm staring through the window into the warm, bright room inside, wishing with all my might that I could be a part of what I see. Knowing all the while, that I can't. I don't belong there, no matter how much I wish it to be. Suddenly, it's all I can do to keep from bawling like a damn baby.
You ever want something so badly that you'd give anything, say anything, do anything to get it? Something you knew no matter what you did, you could never have? Want it so badly that your heart just ached for it, and it was all you thought of every night when it got dark and the quiet pressed all around you?
I did. Of course, that ache had been there for years but sort of pushed to the back of my mind. The years had worn it to a dull pain that I could ignore without much thought. Except at night. It took a little work at night.
A few weeks ago, something happened that reawakened the sharp, stabbing pain of longing I'd learned to ignore. And, worse, made me jealous of three of my friends. That, I'm ashamed of. I said and did things that I wish I could take back. That's the trouble with words. You can use them to hurt and, once spoken, they can never be undone. The very sound of them lingers in the memory.
I never have learned to think before I speak.
Fortunately, the best thing about friends is their willingness to forgive us our weaknesses. It helped that Jack had been there, and sorta knew what I was feelin'. Les was too young to understand, or realize anything had been going on. Dave, though-now Dave was harder. He couldn't really understand. And I'm glad he couldn't. I'm glad he didn't have the experience I had, so he'd know how I felt. And I'm still a little jealous. I can't help it.
It all started Thanksgiving, I guess. Or, maybe the day before....
******
It was cold. Colder than usual for that time o' year, and windy. The kind of wind that just blows right through ya. It was going to be a bitter cold winter, we could tell. Already boys were trickling in to the Lodgin' House to sleep at night. More than we usually had this time of year. We'd be doubling up in the beds in a few weeks.
Typically, we doubled up the little kids first. They was small enough that they still had room in the bed, plus it kept them warm at night without havin' to scrounge up more blankets. Us older kids would be sharin' soon enough. Or sneakin' off to the smaller room Kloppman uses as an infirmary to sleep, if there wasn't any sick kids in there. Hey, us older kids earned the right to sleep in our own beds. Just survivin' that long says something.
Anyways, it was the day before Thanksgiving. Kloppman woke us up at five in the mornin', as usual. I really hate the sound of that man's voice early in the mornin'. I hate the sound of anything that early in the mornin'.
I dragged myself out of bed and grabbed my vest. I was already mostly dressed, having slept in my pants, shirt and socks to keep warm. I'd need to wash my spare shirt some time today. I really did need to buy a new one, but hated the thought of spending the money. Not that I had all that much to begin with. Maybe one of the guys had outgrown one of theirs.
Hardly anybody got hand-me-downs from me, since it seemed to take a damn long time for me to outgrow anything. I generally wore out my clothes before I could grow out of them.
Ah, well. I grabbed my hat and shoved it into my back pocket, then followed Kid Blink and Mush into the washroom. Mush was laughin' at somethin' Jack said, but Mush is always laughin' at somethin' or other. I smiled at Blink and we both just shook our heads.
Somebody, I think it was Dutchy-hey, don't let the glasses and innocent look fool ya, he can be a prankster-started a shaving soap war. Before ya knew it, soap was flyin' everywhere. It's a wonder nobody got cut with one of the razors. Once it finally ended-Snitch threatened to go, well, snitch to Kloppy-I didn't have to lather soap on my face to shave. It was already there. 'Course, most of us don't really need to shave that often, but it makes us feel older.
Once all of us were ready, if not willing, we ran down the stairs and out the door to begin another day of sellin' papes. Kloppman, as usual, counted us on the way out. He was checkin' for kids who'd maybe snuck in the window and therefore hadn't paid their six cents for board.
If ya sneak in through the window, ya gotta remember to sneak back out through the window. Lesson number one. Lesson number two: if ya have to double up in the winter, don't double up with Snaps. He'll drive ya nuts.
As we horsed around and chased each other down the street, I was already figurin' the best place to sell my papes. The next day was a holiday, and we'd only have one edition instead of the usual two. Three if something really big happened. So, I'd need to sell as many as possible today to make up for less tomorrow.
No, I wasn't going to the tracks. Flat season was over, so no races for me. No more until spring. I'd probably end up sellin' at City Hall Park. I passed by it on the way to the bridge during race season, and sometimes sold a few there before going to the track. Another kid would probably be there, but we could share. Or fight for it. Win or lose, I'd sell papes. Losing got you sympathy from the ladies. Especially if you can manage a few tears.
By the time we'd had our bread and coffee, bitter as always, from the nuns and reached the distribution center, I'd pretty much decided I wasn't in the mood for a fight. Maybe I'd just tag along with Mush and Blink and sell at Central Park. It was big enough for all of us.
In the end, I wound up selling at City Hall Park after all. As we were all lined up to get our papes, I heard Swifty say he heard Paddy had been run over by a streetcar the day before. Paddy was the kid that sold at City Hall Park. I kinda felt bad for sellin' at the spot that was open just 'cause some poor newsie was killed. But, ya gotta do what ya gotta do, to sell your papes.
Making my way to the park, I cursed the wind that found its way inside my jacket and the three layers I wore under it. The hand that wasn't carrying my papes was shoved in my trouser pocket, seeking warmth that couldn't be found. If I didn't buy a new shirt, maybe I'd buy some gloves instead. And a scarf. Jeez, it was cold.
It's harder to sell on a cold, windy day like that. The gray clouds hung overhead, heavy with promised rain. Or maybe even sleet. I couldn't tell if it was cold enough for that. I hoped it wasn't.
Yep, on a day like that you really had to be creative with the headlines. I used every trick I knew that day, to sell my papes. I even threw in the pitiful, stuttering newsboy routine. That got me a few tips.
There were a few advantages of being small and looking younger than you actually were. When my hands are freezing and my nose is running from the cold, I'll use pity. If it buys me a bed and dinner, I'll take it. I ain't that proud. Not in the winter. Pride can kill ya in the winter.
At least my feet were warm.
I'd lost my savings when I'd hired Spot Conlon and his Brooklyn newsies to look after Jack and the fellas back in the summer. I was in trouble, and that trouble threatened my friends. Spot made sure nothin' happened to them. Over the last few months, I got most of it back from sellin' papes and winnin' poker.
Although, I got a sneaking suspicion Spot let me win some of it. I'm good, yeah, but Spot ain't that bad. I didn't say anything, because I knew he really didn't want to keep my money in the first place. He feels better, and I kept my reputation. It was a win-win situation.
I used the money to buy a good new pair of boots. With matchin' laces, even. I may not be growing taller, but my feet are growing longer. Maybe the rest of me just ain't caught up yet. When the old man that sold me the boots got a good look at the state of my socks, he threw in a new pair for free since the new boots had taken most of my money. I gave my old shoes to Snipeshooter. Nothin' goes to waste around the Lodgin' House. If it don't fit you, it'll fit another kid.
Anyways, pickin's were slim that day. I sold all but ten of my papes and after another fruitless hour, knew that was all I was gonna sell. Even fifty was a good number on a day like that, so I didn't feel too bad. I left the park to head back to the distribution center.
See, after we had our strike, The World agreed to buy back our unsold papers. At least I'd get my money back from the papes I had left. Which was about the only good thing about the day. Maybe it is bad luck to sell on some dead kid's spot.
I was walkin' down the street, tryin' to decide how many afternoon papes I'd buy later, when some damn fool telegraph messenger ran me down with his bicycle. A little kid got away from his mother and ran out into the street. The messenger didn't see him until it was too late and had to swerve. Unfortunately for me, I was in his way. I saw him coming, but just didn't have time to move.
One of his handlebars caught me in the chest and we both went down. Boy, did that hurt. I fell backwards, losing my papes and skinning both me elbows as I hit the cobblestones. The messenger flew off his bicycle and landed on top of me. His head hit my face, and it felt like my cheek exploded.
The crazy dame with the kid had the nerve to yell at us. Somethin' or other about trying to get her little boy killed. Like walkin' down the street, mindin' my own business is against the law or somethin'. Some people are nuts, if you ask me.
The messenger finally managed to untangle himself from both the bicycle and me and climbed to his feet. His nose was bleeding, probably from the impact with my face. As he began to inspect his bicycle for damage, I got to my knees and gathered up my scattered papes. Two were torn and useless. Great. Now I only had eight to sell back.
Then the guy starts to yell at me about the damage to his bicycle. Told me I'd have to pay for the repairs. I told him he could try and take it from me. Stupid kid thought since he was bigger than me, he could do it. Next thing ya know, we're rollin' around on the ground again.
I didn't even hear the cop run up to us. It wasn't until my shirt collar suddenly tried to strangle me as someone pulled me up, that I realized the bulls had come to break up our little disagreement. Well, I knew who'd come up with the short end of the stick in this one. The respectable messenger in his bright uniform jacket, or the ragged newsie?
Yep, I'd lose.
Sure enough, the messenger starts yellin' about how I knocked him off his bike and dented it and now he's got a bloody nose. The copper didn't even bother to get my side of the story, just grabbed my jacket and started shaking me. He was yellin' something or other about jail or an orphanage, but I didn't stick around to hear the rest of it. I jerked on a coupla buttons and loosened my jacket. I managed to squirm out of it, blew them both a raspberry, and took off running.
Snyder may not be running the refuge anymore, but one corrupt official is just as bad as any other. Better food or not, the place was still a jail for kids. I did my time in the refuge as a kid and I ain't goin' back there.
Once I was out of sight of the cop, I slowed down and turned toward Central Park, more than a little angry. Now I was out the whole ten papes, and my coat. No papes to sell back, I'd lost my jacket, my chest hurt and I was pretty sure I had another shiner. Seemed to me that I'd pretty much kept a shiner since the strike. One black eye would no sooner heal, than I'd get another one.
Maybe it'd help me sell papes tomorrow. It would be all kinds of colors by tomorrow morning. Gets ya sympathy from the hoity-toity dames who think they're doin' ya a favor by buyin' your papes. Like a coupla copper pennies is gonna make my life so much better. Crazy broads.
By the time I found Mush and Blink at Central Park, I was in a pretty sour mood. Taking a deep breath, I closed the gap between me and my friends. I knew they was gonna mess with me about the new shiner. I was right.
"Hey, Racetrack! Nice shiner."
Mush thought he was such a comedian. "Hey Mush."
"You lose another bet, Race?"
Blink was laughing and nudging Mush. As if Mush wasn't already laughing and pointing at my face. I thought I'd set the record straight, before they started making up whoppers about me losing some bet.
"No, I didn't lose a bet, ya bum. I got run over by a telegraph messenger."
Okay, so maybe I shoulda let them spread stories of some daring bet I'd made and lost. I thought they were gonna fall over, they was laughin' so hard. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It'll sell forty papes tomorrow, easy."
"If you say so, Race." Blink was even worse when he was patronizing. And, yeah, I know what that word means. I looked it up in Kloppy's dictionary, after reading it in a story once. I like to know as many words as I can, so I can use 'em to improve the lousy headlines.
"C'mon, Race. You can help us finish selling our papes."
I took the papes Mush handed me, but thought I'd mess with him a little. "What's in it for me?"
Sharing a look with Blink, Mush shrugged his shoulders and smiled at me. "I'll buy ya a cuppa coffee to warm ya up, seein' as how you seem to have lost your jacket somewhere along the way."
Did I mention Mush and Blink were my pals? "Sure, I'll help ya."
I took a few papes from each and wandered down the block a little ways then decided to cross the street and sell on the other side. I was less likely to take customers from them that way.
People were in a hurry, bustling down the street in their haste to get outta the wind. Getting them to stop and buy a newspaper is an art, let me tell ya. You have to sort of plant yourself right in their way, so they hafta stop. If you can get 'em to stop, 9 times outta 10 you'll get 'em to buy a pape just so they can leave and get on with their business.
With no jacket and holes in the elbows of my shirtsleeves, I looked a mess. Add to that my rapidly swelling cheek and eye and I was certainly an object of pity. I used their pity, and had them buying my papes out of sheer guilt. They were warm, in clean clothes and didn't get soaked that morning. Their day was already a hundred times better than mine. It made 'em feel better to give the poor kid a nickel.
So far, I was makin' a profit on Mush and Blink's papes. I'd buy my own coffee. Maybe the day was lookin' a little better. I sold my last pape to some ditzy dame I thought was actually gonna break down and cry. She was ravin' on and on about the fate of humanity or some such load of nonsense. Crazy old bat. I got a dime out of her, though, so I wish her long life.
By the time I made it back to Mush and Blink, they'd finished selling their papes so we all headed over to Tibby's for lunch. I gave 'em the pennies for the papes they'd given me, plus a little extra. I still ended up with more than I woulda gotten for those lost ten papes.
By the time we got to Tibby's Blink had almost had Mush talked into letting one of us give him a shiner, so they'd have better luck sellin' papes tomorrow. Almost. Mush may be a little naïve, but he ain't stupid. It was fun messin' with him, though.
The burst of warm air that greeted us when Blink opened the door made me shiver. My face was tingly from the cold and my nose dripped like the pump in the washroom back at the Lodgin' House. I was grateful for the heat inside Tibby's, let me tell ya. I followed Mush and Blink to the back, where Jack sat at a table with a few of the other fellas.
Everyone asked me questions at once, about the shiner and my missing coat. I took my time sitting down, making 'em wait and trying to figure out the best way of improvin' the truth. Hey, where d'ya think Jack learned it from? Me and Skittery taught him. I learned it from a Brooklyn kid named Big Tom who sold out at the races. Don't know where Skitts got it from. Never asked him. Big Tom got caught up with some mean characters out at the track about five years ago, and was sent up the river to Sing Sing. But, that's another story.
Since I'd already told Kid Blink and Mush the truth, I figured there wasn't a way to stretch the truth seein' as how they'd just tell what really happened. So, I told the guys how it really was. You ain't never heard such a racket in Tibby's since the strike. I though Boots was gonna fall outta his chair. Until I slapped him upside the head for laughin' at me.
'Course, all that got me was a slap upside my own head from Jack. Then another from Boots. Ya know, I really wasn't havin' a good day. Jack was laughing with the others, but I could see the concern in his eyes. He knew as well as I did that I'd have to come up with the money for a new coat. Winter was gonna be bad. A kid could die in that kinda cold with no coat.
I smiled at him that cocky smile of mine, to let him know I'd take care of myself. I'd find a way to get the money. Sell more papes, find some poker games or sell my watch. Okay, so I wouldn't actually sell the watch. I'd freeze first. But, Jack didn't need to know that.
After lunch, I went back to the lodgin' house and pulled my spare shirt on over my other one. Two shirts, an undershirt and my vest were better than nothing. I talked to Kloppy for a little while, convincing him I was okay and that I wasn't in danger of being dragged off by the bulls. After checking the time, I headed over to the distribution center to get the evening papes.
If it was cold before, it was downright freezing now. I was starting to wish I'd brought the blanket off my bed. When I caught up to the other fellas standing in line, I wedged myself between Jack and Davy, hoping they'd block the wind and maybe provide a little warmth. I think Dave was a little annoyed at first.
"Do you mind, Racetrack? I was here first."
I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and pressed even closer to Jack. I started to smart off to Dave, but Jack beat me to it.
"Leave him alone, Dave. He can do whatever he needs to, to keep warm. He ain't got a nice thick coat like you do."
I was a little surprised that Jack would talk like that to his new best friend. I think David was, too.
"Sorry, Jack." He shrugged at me, and sort of smiled an apology. "I didn't mean anything by it, Race."
"If you're really sorry, you'll stand a little closer and keep the wind off me." Damn, it was cold.
He was laughing, but Dave did what I told him to. We inched our way to the window and got our papes. I usually sit down on the platform and go over the headlines before leaving the yard, but it was too cold to do that tonight. As Skittery passed by me, I reached out and snagged his sleeve.
"Hey, Skitts, you sellin' at Grand Central tonight?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Mind if I sell with ya?" It'd be warm inside Grand Central Station. And outta the wind.
Skittery shrugged his indifference and nodded. "Sure. I'll take one side, you take the other."
"It's a deal."
He may be a little gloomy sometimes, but Skittery ain't so bad. I don't often sell with anybody, but I don't mind sellin' with him. He's quiet and keeps to himself. Suits me just fine.
By the time the two of us finished selling our papes, it was late. People were just in too big a hurry to stop and buy a paper from a newsboy. It took a long time to get rid of all the papes. It was too late to get anything to eat anywhere, since everyone had closed up shop. Skittery and I had split a pretzel at Grand Central and that would have to do.
I don't know about Skitts, but I was too tired and cold to be hungry anyway. We weren't the only ones out 'til way after dark. Jack was walking towards us as we headed for the door of the lodgin' house. Mush and Blink were just paying their board when we went in.
"Any luck, you guys?"
Kid Blink just shot me a sour look and Mush frowned. "Not much. We finally took the rest of our papes back to the World."
"It took forever, but I finally sold all mine."
Yeah, well, Jack was one of the best. He could sell a pape to a blind man. "Same with us."
We all paid our six cents and trudged up the stairs to the dorm. I briefly thought of washing my face and hands, but just the hint of that cold water made me shiver. Most of the younger kids were already huddled into bed. Jack put some wood on the fire in the stove and waved the rest of us into the washroom to have a meeting. "We need to start making plans for the winter, guys."
He was right. Already I counted two more boys than we'd had when we left this morning. "We're gonna run out of beds this year."
The others began to murmur their disagreement, but Skittery agreed with me. He was here when we'd had a really bad winter about seven years ago. In fact, that's how I ended up at the lodgin' house. I'd lived in our flat for as long as I could, paying the rent with my earnings from bein' a newsie. Our landlord was crooked, though, and as soon as he realized my old man had beat it and left me alone, he tossed me out on my rear. Literally. I lived on the street for about three months, but winter came. And it hit hard.
I was just one of five kids to show up that night. I slept in a bed with three other little kids, and was grateful for the warmth. Three weeks later, I was sleepin' on the floor with a dozen other kids. We'd simply run out of room.
If this winter was as bad as that one, and it was gearing up to be worse, then we'd end up with the same problem. We'd need more blankets. And mattresses, too, if we could come up with them.
"Jack, we need to check the attic to see what we got up there. Kloppy put some mattresses up there a coupla years ago. I think there might be some blankets in a trunk."
Nodding thoughtfully, Skittery crossed his arms and frowned. "We might wanna think about starting a pool of money now, for what we'll need later. We can always divide up what we don't spend."
"Skittery's right. We're gonna need more wood, if nothing else."
Mush had a point. We'd be using it more than normal, if we were in for a bad winter. "He's right. We ain't gonna sell as much this winter, either. Everybody might as well accept that now. If we're all gonna eat, and feed all the kids that'll be coming soon, we're gonna need money for food. Food we can eat here. It's cheaper that way, than buyin' our meals at Tibby's."
"Race is right. Better to sock away money now when we have it, than to wait 'til we're scraping for every penny. We can always give it back if we don't use it. Kloppman can keep it in his lock box."
From the look on Jack's face, he didn't mean that as a suggestion. We all knew it would have to be done. We all nodded our agreement, then Blink had another idea. "Some of the kids coming in won't have clothes warm enough to survive the winter. We need to scrape around and gather up what we can find to make sure everyone has something warm to wear."
He certainly wasn't going to get an argument from me. Of course, now I was in a real pickle. Did I spend what I had on a new jacket, or put it in the pot for everyone to use? I could always just use my blanket as a coat. Not as warm, but it would do in a pinch. As badly as I wanted to use the money on myself, I knew damn well I would share it with the others. We were a family. That's what families do.
With a sigh, I nudged Dutchy. "Take up a collection. We'll get money from the other kids in the morning."
Dutchy whipped off his cap and held it out. We all dug deep into our pockets and put nearly all our money into the hat. We all kept just enough to buy our papes tomorrow and a little for lunch. We all then raided our savings, wherever we'd hidden it, and added that to the growing winter fund. Jack emptied the money into his cowboy hat and headed downstairs to give it to Kloppman to keep safe for us.
Me, Mush and Blink headed up to the attic to see what we could find, while the others went to bed. There wasn't much up there, besides dust and a few trunks. Mush found a stack of mattresses in the corner behind a broken bed. There were seven of them and they'd all need to be aired out and beaten with a broom to get rid of the dust.
"We can take care of those tomorrow after we sell our papes." I waved toward the trunks, and knelt down to open one. "Let's see what's in these. Hopefully, there'll be some blankets in here."
The one I opened had some old clothes of assorted sizes. My rotten luck continued, though. There were two coats in the trunk, but both were way too small. "Damn. Well, here's some clothes and a coupla coats. The coats are too small for me, though. What've you guys got?"
Mush waved a hand in front of his face to fan away a cloud of dust and sneezed. "Well, they're a little moth-eaten, but there's a bunch of blankets in here. What about you, Blink?"
"Same here." Blink held one up and we could clearly see they were a little hole-riddled. "Maybe Kloppy can sew up the holes."
Well, it was a safe bet none of us would. I could sew on a button, but that was about the extent of my skills with a needle and thread. The rest of the guys were no better. "Maybe Jack can sweet-talk Sarah into fixing them for us, if Kloppy can't."
Sarah was Sarah Jacobs, Dave's sister. She and Jack had sort of been together since the strike. Some of the guys thought they'd end up getting married, but I wasn't so sure. It depended on whether Jack made anything of himself once he stopped hawkin' headlines. Sarah came from a regular family. You know-mother, father, brothers. People like that are different than orphans and street rats like us. Sarah wouldn't be happy with Jack, unless he could support her.
"I'm sure Kloppy can do it."
I think Blink just didn't want Sarah doing anything for us. For some reason, she rubbed him the wrong way. I know he tried to hide it from Jack, but he couldn't fool Mush and me.
Me and Mush shared a look and we both shrugged. I closed the lid of the trunk I'd been rummaging in and dusted my hands on my pants. "We can clean all this stuff tomorrow. Let's get to bed. I'm tired and it's cold up here."
Later that night as I curled up on my lumpy mattress, under my scratchy wool blanket, I worried. We were gonna hafta work hard to get everybody through the winter this year. We'd really hafta look out for the little kids. And Crutchy. I always worried about Crutchy in the winter. He got sick so easily when it was cold. Medicine was another thing we'd have to save money for.
It took me a long time to get to sleep that night.