A year quickly went by, and it didn't take long to adjust to life with my grandmother. She managed to sell my parents house for a very reasonable price, and buy a new house in a part of New York called Manhattan. The house was big for only two occupants, but we filled it well. Racetrack and I stayed friends after the day he brought me to my grandmother. She liked him right away. Months passed, and Racetrack frequented our house more often. He and my grandmother soon found they had a common interest- a fascinating place called Sheepshead Races.
"Alright children, stay close to me. This is no place to get lost." I giggled, holding tightly to my granny's hand. Racetrack was holding my other hand- I was not to be trusted in crowds any longer. The three of us found decent seats towards the front of the stadium, eager for the races to start. I clapped excitedly.
"Ooo how I love this! Let's go Buster!" I screamed, calling the name of my favorite horse. Racetrack glanced towards the entrance, and I plopped down beside him. "What are you looking for?"
"Me bruddah" He looked down at me, "Nosy", and stuck out his tongue. Granny smiled. A few minutes later I received an elbow in the side as racetrack pointed. "Dere 'e is!"
A tall dark-haired semi-scrawny boy sauntered through the entrance, followed by a small band of teenagers. Race jumped up and waved, catching the boys' attention. He waved back, and led his group our way.
"Heya Race." he said, rubbing his hand over Racetrack's head. Race beamed up at his older brother, and turned to my grandmother and me.
"Dis is me friend, Mem and 'er grandma, Miss Jameson." The boy tipped his hat to us and shook my grandmother's hand politely.
She grinned and asked, "So you're our Racetrack's big brother, eh?"
"Dat's right, ma'am. I'se Shootah. And dese is some o' da newsies dat live wit us," he turned to his friends, "Umm…dis is Heart, and Sidewind, and dis heah is Soldiah." Granny greeted each of them, and invited them to sit with us, which they did gratefully.
Shooter sat down behind Race, patting the space beside him. A petite blonde, introduced as Heart filled the spot, and leaned towards Shooter affectionately. Racetrack greeted a muscular boy with auburn hair, the tallest of the group, as he slapped Race on the back and sat beside him.
The girl with long black hair and equally dark eyes squeezed in between Race and I. Crossing her legs with a grace I'd only seen in my grandmother, she straightened her back and patted my leg with her right hand, "Mem, right?"
I nodded.
Copying the way she tossed her left leg over her right, I replied, "Soldier, right?"
Her dark eyes smiled down at me and chuckled softly, "Right."
Buster didn't win that day, but I didn't mind. I had found something better than a racehorse: I had found friends. Up until that day, Granny and Racetrack were the only two people I ever saw. And now I was being shown in to a whole different world.
"So Mem, hows about ya come to da lodgin' house sometime, and meet da rest a da gang?" Shooter asked as he took a bite of my grandmothers' lasagna. Shooter wiped some stray sauce from his lip and added, "If dat's alright wit you, Miss Jameson."
Dinners at our house had become an almost daily routine. Although some new kids showed up once in a while, the group mainly contained the group from the races, nearly filling our large rectangular dinner table. My grandmother loved to have the house filled with laughter, and with friends. She also loved to cook, and with only myself to look after, she quickly welcomed the excuse to make bigger meals.
Granny set her fork down on her napkin and settled back in her chair. I looked at her, wide-eyed and hopeful, mouthing 'please, please, please.' She cleared her throat, "Well, young man, I've known you to be fairly responsible." A glance at me coaxed a grin and she continued, "So I suppose Rememberance can make an appearance at your lodging house. But", she added, raising her hand, "Don't let me down."
Trying to contain my joy, I sat on my hands, squirming gleefully. Soldier, seated next to me, laughed aloud. "Alright Mem, you'se comin' wit us."