Chapter 2
"So what do ya' think's gonna' happen next, Jack?" Mush asked when Jack had finished his rendition of Chapter 28 of Treasure Island.
"I dunno'," Jack replied, slumping onto his bunk.
"This is a good story. Better 'dan 'da last one," Racetrack said before taking a long puff on his cigar.
"That's what you said about the last story," Blink said, laughing.
"Yeah, I know, but this one—this one's good," Race replied.
"Yeah, it is. Lots of adventure and stuff," Jack stated from his place on his bunk.
"Yeah," all the boys agreed simultaneously.
Jack sighed as the lights were turned off and everyone headed to bed. He lay in his bunk for an hour or so, unable to sleep, just staring at the ceiling above him. Finally, he rose from his bed and headed to the roof. From there he could see what felt like all of New York—all of the world even—his world, anyway. He replayed all of the stories he had heard Maggie tell in his mind. So many of them ran together and the edges blurred creating an epic of characters and settings that often times confused themselves with his memories.
He lived for the stories Maggie read from her books. He wished that he could buy books of his own, but all he could afford to read was the headline. He dreamed to write a story of his own someday—maybe it would be about cowboys in Santa Fe or life as a newsie. He didn't know. All who knew was that he wanted to write. Only problem was he didn't have the means. Just like he couldn't afford books, he couldn't afford paper and pencils. Oh, well, he thought, sighing to himself, maybe someday. And with that, he headed down the fire escape and climbed back into his bed.