The night's show went off well, but Katie was as exhausted at the end of it
as she had been the night before. Medda had told Katie to sing her old
classic "My Lovey Dovey Baby" but to give it a little kick. At first the
audience, mostly regulars, had been hesitant to accept the new girl singing
Medda's most popular song, but she sang it with such an infectious
enthusiasm that she selfishly told herself that most of them had probably
forgotten that Medda had ever sung it. As ashamed as she often felt about
performing at Irving Hall, she had to admit to herself that she enjoyed her
time on stage and would be upset when the mill started hiring again and
Kevin insisted she go back to knitting from dawn until dusk with no
excitement in her changeless days.
She was just about to remove her overdress when she heard the door creak open behind her. Knowing better than to assume it was Medda, she turned around to see Jack Kelly. She registered only mild surprise. "Well at least you caught me with my clothes on this time."
"Yeah, too bad." His eyes twinkled suggestively. Katie was surprised that he was so much bolder than he had been the night before. He was no longer stammering or edging toward the door. She supposed it helped that he knew she was dependent on him to keep her secret so she could continue her quasi- friendship with Racetrack and Kid Blink.
She cleared her throat and turned to her mirror, undoing her hair. "Thanks for not telling your friends that I lied to them." It was easier to express her gratitude when she didn't have to look at his cocky face.
"Hell, everybody's got to have secrets." She was taken aback by his honest answer when she had been expecting a joking response.
"Well I suppose you're right." She turned back to face him and there was a moment of awkward silence between the two of them, as if they were both at a loss for words.
Jack cleared his throat and shook himself a bit, reminding himself that he was no timid schoolboy and the girl sitting in front of him was just another vaudeville singer, no better than Medda. He sauntered over to where Katie was seated and plucked teasingly at the sleeve of her dress. "So, how long does it take to get one of these off anyway?" he asked suggestively, expecting her to giggle girlishly in return, the usual response to his advances.
"Out out out!" Katie nearly shouted to his astonishment as she shoved him away. "I spend all night swanning about on stage so half-grown boys like you can pretend like any girl with an ounce of sense would be even remotely interested, and then I have to deal with nonsense like this?" He sputtered, his cockiness gone in her sudden barrage of insults. "Am I supposed to pretend like anyone who saunters in here with some cocky one- liner can do whatever he likes with me after the curtain goes down? Why don't you try that approach with Medda, I'm sure she's had more practice at it than I have!" He stood there, not knowing how to respond to this seemingly unfounded outburst. She looked at him as if he were lower than dirt. "Are you deaf as well as stupid? I said get out!"
Finally really heeding her words, if not truly comprehending them, he stumbled out of the door and closed it shakily behind him. Fuming and surprised that she hadn't breathed smoke, Katie hastily returned to the task at hand. Once again struggling with her corset laces, she couldn't restrain herself from cursing when she heard the door open again so soon.
"Didn't I tell you to get your sorry ass out of here?" She swung around to face him but stopped short when she realized it wasn't him at all but that rude, lanky boy from earlier that day.
"I knew I recognized you," he sneered. "You ain't no writah at all. More of a whore than I first had you pegged for."
Frustrated by these boys storming into the green room every night pretending like they had some earth shattering revelation to tell her, and then insulting her to her face, she tried to remain calm. Unfortunately, calmness was out of the question, and sarcasm seemed to be the only available replacement. "I'm sorry, what was your name again? Scooter was it? Well Scooter, as you can see, now is hardly the time for me to be discussing my career path with anyone let alone an unknown gentleman caller. So if you'll just-" She was cut off midway through her gesture toward the door.
The color rose in his cheeks, and if smoke hadn't escaped from Katie's mouth during her earlier conversation with Jack Kelly, she was almost certain it should be coming from this boy's ears at this moment. "Skittery, my name's Skittery. You damn well know that!"
"Why silly me, how could I have forgotten?" she said in her least sincere tone of voice with a cordial smile plastered on her face.
Skittery wasn't blind to the fact that he was being insulted, and that was the last thing he wanted. As if he didn't get enough of insults day in and day out from the boys at the lodging house. He reminded himself that this girl was in no position to insult him. He stood up a bit taller and replied, "I don't know why you just don't tell 'em - the newsies. Why this big secret? I'm sure some of them could come up with the penny it costs to pay for your attentions."
For the second time that evening, Katie was livid. "How dare you make accusations like that! You have no right -"
"Hey hey hey," Skittery interrupted, waving his hands in a non- threatening manner, "I just wanna know why all the lying?"
"Maybe it's so the others won't make assumptions like you!"
"Well now I know your secret.so, what's it worth?"
"Huh?"
"I could tell everyone tonight. How're you gonna stop me? What's it worth?"
What was it worth? There had been no real reason she'd told those boys she was a writer rather than a vaudeville performer, but now that she'd told the lie, could they know the truth without despising her? And if the newsies disliked her, she might never be able to write that follow- up story she was secretly hoping Brian Denton would publish in the Sun. What could she offer this boy to protect that seemingly idle hope?
"Look, my brother knows how much I make every night; he'd start asking questions if I gave you some of my salary."
"I don't want your money."
"Well if you already know what it is that you want, then why don't you just come out and say it!"
In two steps he bounded across the room to where she was and clasped her in a kiss. It was rough, but Katie got the feeling that was more from his lack of experience than anything else, more clumsiness than rage. Still, he wouldn't let her go and she wanted to scream, "Enough already!" because this was just too much to comprehend. Seeing no alternative, she bit down on the tongue that he had roughly shoved into her mouth until she tasted blood. He pulled away, but he didn't make a sound, not a scream, not even a yelp. Instead he just looked intently at her as he wiped some of the blood from his lip. Then, he smiled a bloody, self-satisfied smile, and left the room, closing the door gently but firmly behind him.
Katie sighed, hoping that would be the last of them; she'd had enough admirers for the night.
She was just about to remove her overdress when she heard the door creak open behind her. Knowing better than to assume it was Medda, she turned around to see Jack Kelly. She registered only mild surprise. "Well at least you caught me with my clothes on this time."
"Yeah, too bad." His eyes twinkled suggestively. Katie was surprised that he was so much bolder than he had been the night before. He was no longer stammering or edging toward the door. She supposed it helped that he knew she was dependent on him to keep her secret so she could continue her quasi- friendship with Racetrack and Kid Blink.
She cleared her throat and turned to her mirror, undoing her hair. "Thanks for not telling your friends that I lied to them." It was easier to express her gratitude when she didn't have to look at his cocky face.
"Hell, everybody's got to have secrets." She was taken aback by his honest answer when she had been expecting a joking response.
"Well I suppose you're right." She turned back to face him and there was a moment of awkward silence between the two of them, as if they were both at a loss for words.
Jack cleared his throat and shook himself a bit, reminding himself that he was no timid schoolboy and the girl sitting in front of him was just another vaudeville singer, no better than Medda. He sauntered over to where Katie was seated and plucked teasingly at the sleeve of her dress. "So, how long does it take to get one of these off anyway?" he asked suggestively, expecting her to giggle girlishly in return, the usual response to his advances.
"Out out out!" Katie nearly shouted to his astonishment as she shoved him away. "I spend all night swanning about on stage so half-grown boys like you can pretend like any girl with an ounce of sense would be even remotely interested, and then I have to deal with nonsense like this?" He sputtered, his cockiness gone in her sudden barrage of insults. "Am I supposed to pretend like anyone who saunters in here with some cocky one- liner can do whatever he likes with me after the curtain goes down? Why don't you try that approach with Medda, I'm sure she's had more practice at it than I have!" He stood there, not knowing how to respond to this seemingly unfounded outburst. She looked at him as if he were lower than dirt. "Are you deaf as well as stupid? I said get out!"
Finally really heeding her words, if not truly comprehending them, he stumbled out of the door and closed it shakily behind him. Fuming and surprised that she hadn't breathed smoke, Katie hastily returned to the task at hand. Once again struggling with her corset laces, she couldn't restrain herself from cursing when she heard the door open again so soon.
"Didn't I tell you to get your sorry ass out of here?" She swung around to face him but stopped short when she realized it wasn't him at all but that rude, lanky boy from earlier that day.
"I knew I recognized you," he sneered. "You ain't no writah at all. More of a whore than I first had you pegged for."
Frustrated by these boys storming into the green room every night pretending like they had some earth shattering revelation to tell her, and then insulting her to her face, she tried to remain calm. Unfortunately, calmness was out of the question, and sarcasm seemed to be the only available replacement. "I'm sorry, what was your name again? Scooter was it? Well Scooter, as you can see, now is hardly the time for me to be discussing my career path with anyone let alone an unknown gentleman caller. So if you'll just-" She was cut off midway through her gesture toward the door.
The color rose in his cheeks, and if smoke hadn't escaped from Katie's mouth during her earlier conversation with Jack Kelly, she was almost certain it should be coming from this boy's ears at this moment. "Skittery, my name's Skittery. You damn well know that!"
"Why silly me, how could I have forgotten?" she said in her least sincere tone of voice with a cordial smile plastered on her face.
Skittery wasn't blind to the fact that he was being insulted, and that was the last thing he wanted. As if he didn't get enough of insults day in and day out from the boys at the lodging house. He reminded himself that this girl was in no position to insult him. He stood up a bit taller and replied, "I don't know why you just don't tell 'em - the newsies. Why this big secret? I'm sure some of them could come up with the penny it costs to pay for your attentions."
For the second time that evening, Katie was livid. "How dare you make accusations like that! You have no right -"
"Hey hey hey," Skittery interrupted, waving his hands in a non- threatening manner, "I just wanna know why all the lying?"
"Maybe it's so the others won't make assumptions like you!"
"Well now I know your secret.so, what's it worth?"
"Huh?"
"I could tell everyone tonight. How're you gonna stop me? What's it worth?"
What was it worth? There had been no real reason she'd told those boys she was a writer rather than a vaudeville performer, but now that she'd told the lie, could they know the truth without despising her? And if the newsies disliked her, she might never be able to write that follow- up story she was secretly hoping Brian Denton would publish in the Sun. What could she offer this boy to protect that seemingly idle hope?
"Look, my brother knows how much I make every night; he'd start asking questions if I gave you some of my salary."
"I don't want your money."
"Well if you already know what it is that you want, then why don't you just come out and say it!"
In two steps he bounded across the room to where she was and clasped her in a kiss. It was rough, but Katie got the feeling that was more from his lack of experience than anything else, more clumsiness than rage. Still, he wouldn't let her go and she wanted to scream, "Enough already!" because this was just too much to comprehend. Seeing no alternative, she bit down on the tongue that he had roughly shoved into her mouth until she tasted blood. He pulled away, but he didn't make a sound, not a scream, not even a yelp. Instead he just looked intently at her as he wiped some of the blood from his lip. Then, he smiled a bloody, self-satisfied smile, and left the room, closing the door gently but firmly behind him.
Katie sighed, hoping that would be the last of them; she'd had enough admirers for the night.