Chapter 2: Pain and Silence
The next morning was tough. Usually the mornings were filled with camaraderie and noise, but it could not be that way because of Alyssa. Racetrack, not what you would call a morning person, awoke to slam his head on his bunk frame and uttered a very loud, "Holy shit!"
Everyone else was pretty quiet except when someone opened their mouth and made a joke. Trooping out of the Lodgings, they all let loose a loud sigh of relief.
"All dis quiet's gonna kill me," muttered Skittery. He was pulling his coat collar up around his ears. It was the only the third week of December, but it felt more like the middle of January. Business would be slow, so no one took too many papers.
Family money was a bit tight with the Jacobs family so David was back selling.
"Where's da kid?" Jack asked. Usually Les was the reason that Jack sold so many papes. That kid was a damn good actor. Didn't hurt that he adored Jack.
"Home with a cold. Sarah's taking care of him." David managed to get an old lady to buy a paper. She probably thought that Sarah was his wife and that this 'kid' was their son.
"Wish I was Les," Racetrack said. "All curled up inna warm bed. All I's got is da hard floor." Somehow, he had managed to sell all of his papes at the tracks this morning. No one asked how; they knew better.
The three of them were walking past Tibby's when they ran into Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn. "A widdle boidee tol' me yous got a goil at yer place. Dat true?"
"Why do you want to know?" David asked. Personally, David could not stand Spot's skirt chasing ways. Especially when he went after Sarah. He could deal with Jack; he was his best friend.
"Yeah, we's gotta goil. What's it to ya?" Race raised an eyebrow at Spot. As the King of Brooklyn, Spot had more girls than any man could want in a lifetime. Jack and Race put together could not equal all the girls that Spot had. Race had no idea what he did with all of them; being a Newsie left little time for a private life. He was surprised that Sarah and Jack had lasted this long. Pulling out the newest cigar, he lit up hoping for a bit of warmth. "Wanna puff?" he asked around.
Shaking their heads, they all looked longingly at Tibby's then wandered back out into the cold.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Alyssa was in so much pain. Her back blazed like it was on fire. The various bruises that were not seen ached and made her moan in her sleep. She had not felt this bad since. well, that was behind her now. She had left Boston to get away from everything.
She wanted to wake up and get out of where ever she was. Her body protested by having her in a fevered sleep. Everyday she was aware of rapid movement in the morning and the sting of salve being applied to her back each night.
Blink was wandering past Racetrack's bunk and saw Alyssa still asleep. Kicking Race in the side he asked quietly, "How long has she been like dat?"
Race took a moment to wake. "'Bout tree days I tink."
Alyssa's open eyes watched as Kid Blink walked away and while Racetrack pulled on his clothes. Glancing out the window he muttered, "Horrible sellin' day."
Discreetly, Alyssa turned her head to look. Snow was falling rather heavily and ice clung to the window glass. Mush came running in, shrieking, "Denton's takin' us out ta lunch!"
"Keep yer voice down. Yous gonna wake da goil," Jack said hurriedly. However, he was pleased that he was going to get a warm meal today. Everyone trooped out, brightened by the prospect of a warm meal.
Making sure everyone was gone, Alyssa slowly rose. Every joint in her body was stiff, considering that all she had done was sleep for the last three days. Hunger grasped her, but she pushed it aside. She leaned down and saw the basket full of clothes. Digging through, Alyssa found a needle and thread; now she was prepared to look at the clothes.
"Ugh, high neck blouses. Somethin' I'm gonna hafta fix." The skirts were all right. All she would have to do is hem them. The colors even suited her; navy blue, black, grey and even a maroon one. "Where can I find a pair a scissors?"
"You lookin' fer scissors?"
Alyssa jumped, completely caught off guard. "Who are you?" she demanded.
The old man in front of her smiled as he sat on Snipeshooter's bunk. "I'm Kloppman. You must be the girl that they brought in. Alyssa, right?" From his pocket her drew a pair of scissors. He continued, "I run this lodging house fer the boys. Only place they can call home."
"'Scuse me, but, who's 'they'?"
"'They' would be referring to the Manhattan Newsies, under the leadership of Jack Kelly or Cowboy as some call him. You have spent the last three and a half days in Racetrack Higgins' bed. I must say, sleeping on the floor has been good fer him. You'll meet them all tonight when Jack's girl, Sarah, comes to check on you."
Alyssa studied the old man for a moment. After a while, she nodded her head and went back to her sewing.
Satisfied that she was all set, Kloppman left. "You need anything, don't be afraid to ask."
Alyssa spent the rest of the day modifying the clothes to her taste. Well, almost the whole day. After dressing in a finished blouse and black skirt, Alyssa went to wash the bedding that she had slept in and bled in. It was only fair, she figured. On her way to the washroom, she ran into Kloppman. He was cleaning out an old storage room that held nothing in particular.
"Can I ask what yous doin'?" Alyssa queried.
"Certainly, because it concerns you. I'm cleaning this out so you can use it as a bedroom. It's not too seemly fer you to be sleeping wid a bunch a boys." Kloppman was about to throw an old spinning wheel on the trash pile that was precariously perched at the edge of the stairs.
"Wait, could ya hold on ta dat? It may be a use ta me." Alyssa dropped the bedding to take the spinning wheel from Kloppman. It was in decent condition; wouldn't take much to get it running again.
Remembering the bedding, she hurried off to wash it. After returning the freshly washed sheets to the bunk, she helped Kloppman clear out the room. Once everything was clear, she personally got on her knees to scrub the wooden floor. With each movement of her shoulder blades, the wounds flared up, but Alyssa ignored the pain. She could feel them bleeding, but she did not care.
"Kloppman, you here?" a voice called from the first floor.
"Third floor." He was in the middle of washing the walls.
"I brought the old bed frame you wanted."
"Very good. Alyssa can help you bring it up here." Kloppman nodded at Alyssa who was washing the window.
The bed frame was surprisingly light, despite it being made of solid wood. It took no time to get it upstairs. They set it in the corner next to the window.
"May I ask who this is for?" inquired the visitor. "Surely not one of the boys."
"Not at all. This room is fer Alyssa."
"Your granddaughter, right?"
"Don't be daft," Kloppman snapped. "She's the girl that Jack and Race brought in. Don't you remember me telling you all of this, Denton?"
Brian Denton, top reporter for the Sun and friend of the Newsies, was speechless.
It pained Alyssa to see someone so shocked about her position. She went about by taking her anger out on the window. Kloppman understood; he lived with boys who had troubled pasts. Denton looked at her and she simply said, "Stubborn stain."
Overall, the meeting could have gone much worse. The room still needed a few things, but Kloppman told Alyssa that they could get those things later. She was appreciative of what Kloppman was doing for her. She was going to be living with a bunch of Newsies, wasn't she? Not that it bothered her; she had three brothers, but no one knew that.
The next morning was tough. Usually the mornings were filled with camaraderie and noise, but it could not be that way because of Alyssa. Racetrack, not what you would call a morning person, awoke to slam his head on his bunk frame and uttered a very loud, "Holy shit!"
Everyone else was pretty quiet except when someone opened their mouth and made a joke. Trooping out of the Lodgings, they all let loose a loud sigh of relief.
"All dis quiet's gonna kill me," muttered Skittery. He was pulling his coat collar up around his ears. It was the only the third week of December, but it felt more like the middle of January. Business would be slow, so no one took too many papers.
Family money was a bit tight with the Jacobs family so David was back selling.
"Where's da kid?" Jack asked. Usually Les was the reason that Jack sold so many papes. That kid was a damn good actor. Didn't hurt that he adored Jack.
"Home with a cold. Sarah's taking care of him." David managed to get an old lady to buy a paper. She probably thought that Sarah was his wife and that this 'kid' was their son.
"Wish I was Les," Racetrack said. "All curled up inna warm bed. All I's got is da hard floor." Somehow, he had managed to sell all of his papes at the tracks this morning. No one asked how; they knew better.
The three of them were walking past Tibby's when they ran into Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn. "A widdle boidee tol' me yous got a goil at yer place. Dat true?"
"Why do you want to know?" David asked. Personally, David could not stand Spot's skirt chasing ways. Especially when he went after Sarah. He could deal with Jack; he was his best friend.
"Yeah, we's gotta goil. What's it to ya?" Race raised an eyebrow at Spot. As the King of Brooklyn, Spot had more girls than any man could want in a lifetime. Jack and Race put together could not equal all the girls that Spot had. Race had no idea what he did with all of them; being a Newsie left little time for a private life. He was surprised that Sarah and Jack had lasted this long. Pulling out the newest cigar, he lit up hoping for a bit of warmth. "Wanna puff?" he asked around.
Shaking their heads, they all looked longingly at Tibby's then wandered back out into the cold.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Alyssa was in so much pain. Her back blazed like it was on fire. The various bruises that were not seen ached and made her moan in her sleep. She had not felt this bad since. well, that was behind her now. She had left Boston to get away from everything.
She wanted to wake up and get out of where ever she was. Her body protested by having her in a fevered sleep. Everyday she was aware of rapid movement in the morning and the sting of salve being applied to her back each night.
Blink was wandering past Racetrack's bunk and saw Alyssa still asleep. Kicking Race in the side he asked quietly, "How long has she been like dat?"
Race took a moment to wake. "'Bout tree days I tink."
Alyssa's open eyes watched as Kid Blink walked away and while Racetrack pulled on his clothes. Glancing out the window he muttered, "Horrible sellin' day."
Discreetly, Alyssa turned her head to look. Snow was falling rather heavily and ice clung to the window glass. Mush came running in, shrieking, "Denton's takin' us out ta lunch!"
"Keep yer voice down. Yous gonna wake da goil," Jack said hurriedly. However, he was pleased that he was going to get a warm meal today. Everyone trooped out, brightened by the prospect of a warm meal.
Making sure everyone was gone, Alyssa slowly rose. Every joint in her body was stiff, considering that all she had done was sleep for the last three days. Hunger grasped her, but she pushed it aside. She leaned down and saw the basket full of clothes. Digging through, Alyssa found a needle and thread; now she was prepared to look at the clothes.
"Ugh, high neck blouses. Somethin' I'm gonna hafta fix." The skirts were all right. All she would have to do is hem them. The colors even suited her; navy blue, black, grey and even a maroon one. "Where can I find a pair a scissors?"
"You lookin' fer scissors?"
Alyssa jumped, completely caught off guard. "Who are you?" she demanded.
The old man in front of her smiled as he sat on Snipeshooter's bunk. "I'm Kloppman. You must be the girl that they brought in. Alyssa, right?" From his pocket her drew a pair of scissors. He continued, "I run this lodging house fer the boys. Only place they can call home."
"'Scuse me, but, who's 'they'?"
"'They' would be referring to the Manhattan Newsies, under the leadership of Jack Kelly or Cowboy as some call him. You have spent the last three and a half days in Racetrack Higgins' bed. I must say, sleeping on the floor has been good fer him. You'll meet them all tonight when Jack's girl, Sarah, comes to check on you."
Alyssa studied the old man for a moment. After a while, she nodded her head and went back to her sewing.
Satisfied that she was all set, Kloppman left. "You need anything, don't be afraid to ask."
Alyssa spent the rest of the day modifying the clothes to her taste. Well, almost the whole day. After dressing in a finished blouse and black skirt, Alyssa went to wash the bedding that she had slept in and bled in. It was only fair, she figured. On her way to the washroom, she ran into Kloppman. He was cleaning out an old storage room that held nothing in particular.
"Can I ask what yous doin'?" Alyssa queried.
"Certainly, because it concerns you. I'm cleaning this out so you can use it as a bedroom. It's not too seemly fer you to be sleeping wid a bunch a boys." Kloppman was about to throw an old spinning wheel on the trash pile that was precariously perched at the edge of the stairs.
"Wait, could ya hold on ta dat? It may be a use ta me." Alyssa dropped the bedding to take the spinning wheel from Kloppman. It was in decent condition; wouldn't take much to get it running again.
Remembering the bedding, she hurried off to wash it. After returning the freshly washed sheets to the bunk, she helped Kloppman clear out the room. Once everything was clear, she personally got on her knees to scrub the wooden floor. With each movement of her shoulder blades, the wounds flared up, but Alyssa ignored the pain. She could feel them bleeding, but she did not care.
"Kloppman, you here?" a voice called from the first floor.
"Third floor." He was in the middle of washing the walls.
"I brought the old bed frame you wanted."
"Very good. Alyssa can help you bring it up here." Kloppman nodded at Alyssa who was washing the window.
The bed frame was surprisingly light, despite it being made of solid wood. It took no time to get it upstairs. They set it in the corner next to the window.
"May I ask who this is for?" inquired the visitor. "Surely not one of the boys."
"Not at all. This room is fer Alyssa."
"Your granddaughter, right?"
"Don't be daft," Kloppman snapped. "She's the girl that Jack and Race brought in. Don't you remember me telling you all of this, Denton?"
Brian Denton, top reporter for the Sun and friend of the Newsies, was speechless.
It pained Alyssa to see someone so shocked about her position. She went about by taking her anger out on the window. Kloppman understood; he lived with boys who had troubled pasts. Denton looked at her and she simply said, "Stubborn stain."
Overall, the meeting could have gone much worse. The room still needed a few things, but Kloppman told Alyssa that they could get those things later. She was appreciative of what Kloppman was doing for her. She was going to be living with a bunch of Newsies, wasn't she? Not that it bothered her; she had three brothers, but no one knew that.