"Hey, Blink. What's up?"
Blink sighed, wiping his brow. It was in the middle of September but still felt as if it was the middle of July. He turned to the girl he intended to wring information out of. "Not much. Not too good'a headline. Business been slow fo' you, too?"
Red shrugged. "Eh, not bad. Sold out by two. Ya need some 'elp?"
Blink craned his neck to glance at the bell tower's steeple. It was four twenty-three. "Yeah. Please."
Within the next half-hour, Blink and Red had sold his remaining twenty papers. They walked towards Charlie's hot dog stand for a cheap meal, taking their time and talking all the way. Blink shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
"G'job, Red. You can really sell 'em. T'anks fo' ya 'elp."
Red was intent on studying the sidewalk for cracks. "Eh, no biggie."
They had reached Charlie's by now. "Hey kids!" His booming voice seemed to overpower the small body that contained it. "Bad headline taday. When will dem writas eva learn? New York expansion: Our Explosive Population. Psh! Ya need a discount taday, Blink? Red?" They both nodded. "Here ya go, hot dogs, catsup, fried onions, penny a piece." Charlie handed them the steaming hot dogs.
"Thanks, Charlie! See ya lata!" Blink said over his shoulder as he and Red took their hot dogs to the park, only across the street. They settled themselves beneath a weeping willow, its feathery branches offering a semi-covering from the rest of the world. They chatted and laughed between bites, letting the rich onion flavor stream over their taste buds. All the other newsies, especially Jack, would wonder loudly about their shared affection for onions on hot dogs. "Nasty!" Jack would exclaim, making a face. "Onions…uggh," then shivering, would yell from across the area, "You do it fo' alone time, don'tcha?" Insults would fly back and forth, laughing and prodding and ego-smashing abundant.
Red had just finished her last bite, savoring the taste. Blink glanced at her, now lying on the grass with his hands folded behind his head. "I dunno how you goils eat so slow!" Red glanced back at him, copying his position. The cool grass tickled her neck as she pulled a blade from the tough dirt. "I dunno how you guys eat so fast!" Halfway through her hot dog, she noticed Blink shoving the last of his into his mouth, almost choking on the immensity of it.
Blink smoothly changed the subject. "I gotta question. Promise me you'll answer, and not be mad 'r leave 'r anyt'in."
Red sighed. "Promise." Silence from her male counterpart. She sighed again. "I promise on da promise o' life, the pain o' death, an' on da grounds o' Brooklyn."
Blink nodded, satisfied. "So, really, how did yer pop meet that step-mom 'o yers…what's 'er name?"
"Henrietta. I call 'er da Gorgon, or the Fury, sometimes Hen just ta bug 'er."
"Ya two friendly?"
Silence.
"Not really, I kin kinda tell."
"Nope."
"So, ya go visit, an' she jist tells ya you're livin' wit 'er from now on?"
"Yeah."
Blink propped his head on his fist, his body on its side now. "Why?"
Red shrugged. "She don't think it's ladylike ta be livin' wit guys."
"Bit o' a control freak."
"Ya could say dat."
"Anythin' else ya wanna drop while ya so talkative?"
Red allowed a small smirk to sneak onto her face. "Ok, I won't be jist livin' dere, I'm workin'."
His eyes narrowed. "What're ya gonna be doin'?"
Red took time to copy his position. "Ya know, Hen 'n I 'ave neva gotten along."
"C'mon, Red." Irritation crept into his voice.
"Well, they met in a bar." She snorted. Where else? Hen was just a dumb broad. A dumb, rich broad.
- - - - - - - -
Torii sneaked along the shadows on the streets, dodging light streaming from street lamps. An alleyway beckoned to her, and she ran into it. A smile broke across her face. Dinner was served. As she rummaged through the garbage can, loud piano music came through the walls, from the building she was behind. Drunken voices singing foul lyrics also came through, but she ignored both, happily finding a chicken drumstick, half-eaten. She quickly finished the drumstick and, after rifling through the rest of the can, rounded to the front of the Stiff Whip Saloon. The big window showed men and women in various stages of drunkenness, some inebriated beyond their own thought, and others only slightly into their cups. Torii was about to move on to another alley when she saw a man. Her father, Pàdraig, had a saloon girl on his lap. She was clearly made up, her dress was low and revealing, and if anyone ever thought red could be hideous, this was it.No one noticed the small girl in the corner of the window, pressing her grimy nose against the glass, as she saw her father give the woman on his lap a ring. Torii could only see that it sparkled. The woman put it on her left hand, kissing her father and hugging him tight. Whoops and hollers from around the bar filled the room, as the newly engaged couple announced a round of cold turkey on them.
Torii left the sight, knowing that if she didn't get home in an hour her father would be mad. When he didn't have someone to hit when he came home, it was worse when someone came into sight.
- - - - - - - -
A month later, they were married. A few weeks after that, Torii and her father moved into the saloon girl's house on Fourth Avenue. Her parents had been dead for several years. The woman herself was twenty-three.
The next few years, Torii cleaned, cooked, and slaved for her new mother and stepsister, three years old. Her father continued to drink. By the time Torii ran away, Dominique was eight, Torii ten, and they had already made an unbreakable bond. When Snyder got her, not three months after, he often 'visited' Hen, bringing Torii with him. Dominique never had forgotten her. Three years after being caught by Snyder, she ran from him also, the infamous New Jersey Refuge fire, and worked her way to New York City.
Blink watched her. She had flopped back onto the ground, a blade of grass between her teeth, and hadn't said a word since "They met in a bar."
"I'll be workin' there." "How long ya gonna be workin' dere?"
She blinked. "I dunno. Until I run away." She sat up, resting her elbows on her knees. She tossed the blade of grass away from her, sighing. "C'mon. We're done. Let's go ta the House and do somethin'." She started to get up, but a coughing spell put her back on her behind. Blink watched as she grabbed a small piece of cloth from her pocket.
He glared at her disapprovingly. Red looked up. "What?"
"Are ya getten' any betta yet?'
She shrugged. "Yeah. It's getten' a little betta. Ya know it jist bugs me when people are always sayin' stuff like you jist did."
"Yeah, I know. But ya should get dat checked out."
Red laughed mockingly. "Ya think I got time 'r kale ta see a quack who'll only tell me I got a cough that ain't goin' away anytime soon?" She stood up, offering a hand to the boy on the ground.
Blink took it, and reluctantly followed her, indisposed to have his spying cut short.
- - - - - - - -
Monday morning, the boys made their usual clamor and cacophony in the washroom. Tyke scooted in, his eyes red, searching frantically. Jack noticed his turmoil and kneeled down to his eye level, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What's up, kiddo?"
"Liubhaìr, she ain't heah!"
Jack searched his face while his brain got sucked into a black hole. "What? Red's gone?"
Tyke nodded. "In da middle of da night, I tink."
Blink turned from washing his face. "What?" Without waiting for an answer, he dashed out of the bathroom, took the steps by twos, and threw open the door.
The window was thrown open. No curtains graced the sides. Blink frantically began a search of the room.
Underneath her pillow, he found a sheet of paper.
"From time to time, I may be watching you, but you won't know I'm near."
He dropped to his knees. She was gone.
- - - - - - - -
Thank you faithful reviewers! You are much appreciated. -rj