Later the dream still haunted me in the back of my mind but that's where I
kept it, so as not to bother me. I wondered however. Why would I dream
anything like that? I hardly ever remembered if I had had dreams. But this
was so vivid in my memory it was as if it actually happened. Though I had
all these thoughts to myself I kept them to myself, so not to trouble the
others. We were busy enough as it was, we had a newsie rally to organize.
I was excited and nervous at the prospect of the crowd that we were trying to gather. We decided to hold it out in the open somewhere so there would be open space if things got nasty. First of course we needed messengers or "ambastards" as Jack called them, to round up the newsies we wanted from other cities of New York.
We of course already had Manhattan and Brooklyn, but we wanted numbers. We decided to split up and make trips to different cities. Jack also delegated Kid Blink, Boots, and Bumlets to travel to Queens, and Crutchey, Mush and Jake to talk to the Bronx newsies. Jack, Angel, and Bailey were going to stay in Manhattan to watch out for trouble with you-know-who and the Crypts not to mention watch out for the sneaking Delancy's. As we discussed this in the afternoon at Tibby'' restaurant I was told I was going somewhere with Race and Spot.
I was oblivious as to where we were headed once we left but I didn't really care as I felt I was just along for the ride.
"So where are we headin?" I asked just to make conversation.
Both Spot and Race looked uncomfortable for some reason. "Well were goin te Harlem. We figured ye know some o de newsies deyre and dey whudden't mind joinin" Spot said after a moment. "I jus came along because everyone knows who I am and dey'ed probaly listen to me," he smirked like before when he had been joking with Jack but when he saw my face go white he stopped smirking.
"Hey Doodles, whudds de matta?" Race asked me worried. I had stopped dead in my tracks and they had stopped with me.
"I don think I should go te Harlem," I said quietly.
"Why not?" Spot asked me. "Whudd happened?"
I didn't want to remember because it was painful, not the kind of pain Shadow had induced in my life, it was the rejected kind of pain that was administered by one adolecent to another. But because they should know what happened, I told them.
Harlem, a year before the death of Doodle's mother:
Brin, she wasn't called Doodles yet of course, woke up on a beautiful morning in April and felt happy. She heard her mother calling her to wake her up. "I wonder if she needs my help in the shop t'day" Brin mused as she rolled out of her small comfortable bed and walked into the kitchen and living area of the apartment.
"Mornin mum," she said as she saw her mother sitting at the small table made pretty by a vase of flowers in the center.
Her mother, a dignified, beautiful woman despite the hard life she had lived just looked at Brin, no customary smile on her face.
"Whudds de matta?" Brin asked her warily. "Is sumthin wrong?"
"Well," her mother began carfully obviously making sure to pick the right words. "We're not doin so good right now, with the payments on the building and all our other expenses we have to keep up with."
Brin didn't say anything for a moment but she just watched her mother and she observed the tiredness on her face and the dark circles under her eyes. "Whudd do ye need me ta do?" Brin asked finally, knowing she would have to pull her weight for them to now survive and make a living.
"I hate te do this te ye..." her mother wavered, not wanting to make her only daughter release er last bit of childhood.
"Just tell me mum. I'm sixteen I know a lot of girls my age woik. Dey havta if dey're gonna survive, an if I havta join em den I will." Brin had always wanted to work, to help with the apartment and sewing shop below, but also just to be independent and have something of her own. As much as she loved and admired her mother she just wanted to be free, and live her life the way she chose, her dream being to one day travel the work and be an artist. With living in a small apartment with her mother those dreams had never seemed possible, almost as if they were to big for the small life they led.
"Ok, I think you could go be a news girl full time. I know its not de best thing a young lady does...but you'll be careful, I know you will." The one thing Brin's mother had always wanted for her daughter the most was for her to have the best, and be a lady like the ones that would visit her shop and buy fabrics of velvet and silk.
Brin had sold papes before and knew the ropes, some of the Harlem newsies had even been nice to her and she thought that maybe she could make some friends. Because her mother always been such a protechtor of her, and had homeschooled her and kept such a tight leash around her she had never been able to make friends. She had no way to. Now she would be released out into the world, free to make friends for whom she had always yearned.
"Ok!" Brin couldn't contain her excitement. The one thing her mother had never understood was that it didn't matter how fine and fancy you lived but how happy you were with your life. Brin thought that her mother needed more happiness but she hadn't yet learned how to give it to her but she so badly wanted to give it to her. "I'm glad ye've asked me ta woik. I'm old enough and I will be carefull."
Her mother still didn't look thrilled at the idea of sending Brin to wotk. But she thought about her late night number crunching looking for an alternative but she had found none. It was either give up the shop and apartment or have Brin work and she seemed eager enough for that anyways.
"Well than, I guess you start t'day," her mother said trying to make her face cheerful. "Have fun, I'm going to the shop now, it's time to open. But be careful," her mother said backing towards the door, looking as if she did not want Brin to go anywhere.
Brin nodded. "Thanks mum, I will."
"And don't talk to strangers, oh be home before it's dark, it can be dangerous..."her mother added as she grasped the handle of the door to go downstairs to the shop.
"Mum, I'll be fine," Brin said exasparated. "I'll be fine."
Her mother nodded, turned and walked out the door. Her footsteps were heard faintly going down the stairs as Brin spun in a tight circle hugging her arms to herself in happiness. Then she hurried off to get ready to sell.
There were things that Brin's mother didn't know about her daughter and would have her horrified if she knew. Not that they were bad things, they were just things that Brin's mother would consider improper. One was that Brin knew how to fight and had used her skills more than once. She had realized that fighting was a skill that she must have, growing up where she did and she had learned this first hand.
When she was eight years old her mother, much loved though rather naïve sent her alone, to a nearby shop to pick up some random items they needed. Just an inocent little girl, Brin hadn't noticed the big boys following her. When they pushed her into an alley and stole the milk and other items she had picked up plus the rest of her money she had with her she had not been able to stop them. Neither had she been able to stop them when they punched her face and body. When she walked home bloodied up and bruised, it had terrified her mother who had always been weak, never one to stand up to male defiance or agression. So her mother kept her in the apartment giving her an education but only allowed out when it was light. But Brin, so different from her mother needed air and space.
Though always obedient to her mother she realized in this she could not be. She snuck out during the night and found a place that taught her how to fight. She would go out a night even if just for a bit of air and freedom. Her mother never knew anything about her disobediance to her and Brin never had felt reason to tell her.
Brin walked down the street enjoying the freedom of walking alone. It was only a short walk to the distrabution center in Harlem and she arrived to find it already crowded with newsies. She was walking towards the line to join it when hands clamped themselves over her eyes.
"Guess who." Came an obviously distorted voice of a boy. Brin had an idea of who it might be but she wasn't sure.
"Uh...I dunno," she said not wanting to say the wrong peson.
"Oh fine, ye spoil sport."
The hands came away from her eyes and she saw she had, in her head guessed right. It was Deuce, a newsie she had met during her occasional selling. She had known him a short time but in that time she had begun to like him more than a friend. She had not had any experience with boys before and she wasn't sure of these new feelings inside her. She was nervous in this but she made her forward personality take charge.
"Guess whudd," she said to him as they stood in line together.
"Whudd?" he asked her.
"I'm gonna be sellin ful time now," she said and the thrill of independence swept through her again.
"Hey dats great!" he said to her then looked embarassed. "Uh, I'm guessin dat dat's a good thing?"
"Yea," Brin told him happy. She thought he was the perfect guy, so nice, understanding and not to mention totally handsome. She was amazed at her good luck that she would be able to see him every day from now on.
"Good....uh do ye think ye'd maybe wanna sell wid me t'day?" he said unsure of himself. He thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and interesting as well. He looked at her hopefully.
Brin didn't have to think twice. "Sure! I mean I'd love te," she said not wanting to sound as eager and happy as she really was.
So theygot their papers and headed off happily for a day of selling together.
Life was good. This was one thing that Brin was sure of as she walked to the distribution center that morning happy at the prospect of earning money and seeing Deuce. It had been three weeks since she had begun full time and she couldn't have been happier at how things were going. Deuce had asked her out a week after she had started full time and she of course had said yes. So far it was perfect, they sold together, talked together and had fun when selling and also when not selling. She grinned as she thought about their first kiss, the feeling of...she went on grinning and thinking of him and that as she contunued making her way to work.
As Brin walked on happily someone else was thinking about her and not in the way one wants to be thought of. This someone wasn't against Brin, not really. His name was Knuckles and what he was, besides being a Harlem newsie, was cruel. He enjoyed making people feel horrible and always had, he didn't know why and didn't really give a damn why, he just did what made him happy no matter how it made other people feel. He also was one to use his opportunities and take his chances, as long as it didn't risk him being the one to get pissed on. He had an opportunity and he was gonna take a chance today on the new girl.
"Brin..." he though her name to himself. Now she was one he wouldn't mind getting his hands on except for that bastard Deuce. He had been smooth on that one Knuckles thought. He was just a joke, nothing real there except for the fact he probably wanted to get some. For that though he couldn't blame him. But that was besides the point, today he was going to spill all in front of everybody and he would enjoy watching the breakup of that unperfect couple and Brin's devestation...
Brin arrived and this time she snuck up on Deuce.
"Good mornin," she said as he whirled around to face her.
He forced a grin. This whole thing wasn't even going anywhere with her all happy and romantic, but hey he was going to stick with it, for now at least. "Good mornin," he leaned forwards and kissed her on the mouth. When he didn't break away Brin moved away and grabbed his hand then pulled him towards the line to get their papes.
As they talked about nothing in particular on that sunny perfect day, they suddenly heard a commotion. They looked over at the entry gates and saw a newsie that Brin recognized but didn't know. He was talking to her she realized.
"Brin" the boy called in a raised voice.
"Yea?" she said questioningly. "Do I know ye?" she then added boldly.
"Who doesn't know me?" he responded cockily. "Me names Knuckles."
"Whudd de ye wan?" Deuce then said to him harshly repeating what Brin had said.. He knew about Knuckles's notorius reputaion for stealing the ladies and didn't want him infringing on his territory.
"Jus wanted te bring some news I thought was rather interestin fer everyone te hea," he said the grin on his face not becoming melevilent.
Now the area had quieted and Knuckles was the center of attention. He had more than one remembered reputation. He had the reputation for finding the most interesting news, really it was gossip, and though most tended to be lies no one wanted to be the one to miss out on the latest news from Knuckles. It would most likely be the topic of concorsation for the next week if it was as good as it had been in the past.
"Whudd de ye mean?" Brin said warily. She had noticed the change in all the newsies surrounding them. Obviously this Knuckles was someone to watch out for though she didn't yet know why. She would soon find out.
"Where's yer fadda?" Knuckles he taunted her and her color immediately flushed into pink. He always enjoyed the taunts before going in for the kill.
"I don see how dats any a yer business," she said trying to remain cool despite the hurt and anger that ran through her. "I don even know ye so why de ye care?" she attempted to walk with dignaty off the platform to leave but Deuce grabbed her arm. She looked at him questioningly.
"So jus spill it," Deuce said. "Whudds de big story?"
Brin felt as though she had been betrayed. Knuckles had no right to go telling everyone her lifes history, though she was a little confused. There was nothing scandolous about her life except for her father leaving her and her mother on account of being a bastard. But as he had already revealed that what was to come? She didn't really know because it had sounded like the jest about her father was only the beginning.
"After her fadda left her an her wretched mudda," he began as though telling some lovely story to all those standing around waiting for each word. He continued. "For reasons only he may know dey wera poora dan sin. Brin's mudda woiked in sweatshops te support her an her baby, Brin o course. But..." he took a dramatic pause, "out o de blue she came along some money an wah la, dey had a shop, an apartment, an food on de table." He turned his attention to Brin completely."Betcha don't know how she got dat money." He taunted her as she only had one thought in her head, to deck him straight in the face. She longed to see blood gush from his nose when he broke it. But she restrained herself for her mother and what she had taught her about being a lady.
When she didn't reply he laughed. "I know. Yer mudda was a whore. She got fed up with the life o hard work an no payoff so she sold her body te live high. Ye've got whore blood in ye, how many times ye whored yeself eh? How much?" he took a coin out of his pocket and tossed it into the air, grinning maliciously.
She couldn't restrain herself any longer. "How dare ye ye bastard! How could ye even say dat bout me an me mudda?! Ye don know me an ye don know her! She isn't a whore an she worked honestly te get de shop an dis life fer me!" as she yelled this at him she jumped off the platform and ran towards him. She moved to punch him straight in the face but at that time she was hardly practiced with her fighting and especially not with the dirty fighting that was used by the thugs on the street in Harlem. Her right arm was strong as it headed for his face but he swung his arm around and hitting her in the stomach totally winded her to the point where she was on the ground, the air totally gone from her lungs. She couldn't exactly tell what was going on around but she could hear Knuckles's laughter and what possibly some other' s as well. She looked up at Deuce who had followed her off the platform, expecting him to help her, defend her. She saw almost immediately that he had no intention of doing so though. His face was distorted into an expression foreign to her, disgust.
"Deuce?" she said with a question in het tone wondering what was wrong. Why wasn't he helping her, defending her from the bastard who had managed to strike her down?
"I ain't datin no whore," he said simply and as Brin regained her feet turned from her.
"I'm not a whore!" Brin exclaimed in a shout as she began to cry. "And neither was me mudda! How could ye?" she asked Deuce's back as he began te walk away. He never turned around but kept walking. In the next months she would be glad of that because of the bastard he was but at that moment all she wanted was a friend to comfort and protect her. She wouldn't find one there.
Knuckles was still laughing and she turned towards him ignoring the crowd of newsies surrounding them in the distrubution center. Some looked sympathetic though some shared the same melevolent smile and chuckle as Knuckles. She didn't care about them just then however.
"Burn in hell!" she shouted at Knuckles and knowing she couldn't beat the living shit out of him as she so desperatly wanted to she ran from the center sobbing.
Brin didn't tell her mother about what had happened with Deuce and Knuckles and though she really was curious about how her mother had gotten the money, for even she didn't know she never asked and her mother would die before she got a chance to. Over the next few days Brin attempted to keep up her work as a newsie, but after awhile she couldn't take it any longer so she decided she must get another job. Unluckily for her the only open spot for someone like her was at a sweatshop. But Brin knew she would never be able to see those newsies again or the others who had watched her be humiliated and shamed. So she went to work everyday from sun up to sun down never telling her mother the reason she was out so early and back so late. Every once in awhile she would pass one of the newsies in the street and they would yell things at her to horrible to write, but she still bared it all and kept her dignaty for it was all she had left...
I finished telling my story to Race and Spot and they looked a little stunned.
"I neva got te have friends befora youse..." I said shamefully. "Dats why I thought...I thought that ye'd wan me gone."
"Dose assholes!" Spot exclaimed. "I don know all de Harlem newsies to good but dey're all bastards."
Race had put his arms around me in comfort but I still felt stupid. All the feelings I had over all this a year ago were coming back, especially the hurt. But them I realized that the hurt wasn't a sharp pain anymore, it was transforming into fury. How dare they have done that to me, they had no right all. It had just been plain cruelty. I felt myself fill with new determination to achive my dreams, a determination I couldn't have found without my new found friends.
"Thanks ye guys," I said. "But now I've decided dat I wanna go te Harlem. I wanna show em whudd I've become an dat I ain't afraid o dem anymoa."
"Lets go," Race said anger in his eyes but determination as well. "We're gonna show dose Harlem idiots whudd dey missed out on."
I laughed. "I'm glad ye guys weren't as dumb an petty as dey were."
"Hell if I was dat pig brained I whudden't be leada o Brooklyn," Spot said.
I felt good now and ready to kick ass. It had never come into my head when I was living in Harlem but now, now I was a changed girl. My new friends had brought out the best in me and I was greatful for them and that.
"Ok, lets go!" I said and we started off for Harlem full of new determination.
I was excited and nervous at the prospect of the crowd that we were trying to gather. We decided to hold it out in the open somewhere so there would be open space if things got nasty. First of course we needed messengers or "ambastards" as Jack called them, to round up the newsies we wanted from other cities of New York.
We of course already had Manhattan and Brooklyn, but we wanted numbers. We decided to split up and make trips to different cities. Jack also delegated Kid Blink, Boots, and Bumlets to travel to Queens, and Crutchey, Mush and Jake to talk to the Bronx newsies. Jack, Angel, and Bailey were going to stay in Manhattan to watch out for trouble with you-know-who and the Crypts not to mention watch out for the sneaking Delancy's. As we discussed this in the afternoon at Tibby'' restaurant I was told I was going somewhere with Race and Spot.
I was oblivious as to where we were headed once we left but I didn't really care as I felt I was just along for the ride.
"So where are we headin?" I asked just to make conversation.
Both Spot and Race looked uncomfortable for some reason. "Well were goin te Harlem. We figured ye know some o de newsies deyre and dey whudden't mind joinin" Spot said after a moment. "I jus came along because everyone knows who I am and dey'ed probaly listen to me," he smirked like before when he had been joking with Jack but when he saw my face go white he stopped smirking.
"Hey Doodles, whudds de matta?" Race asked me worried. I had stopped dead in my tracks and they had stopped with me.
"I don think I should go te Harlem," I said quietly.
"Why not?" Spot asked me. "Whudd happened?"
I didn't want to remember because it was painful, not the kind of pain Shadow had induced in my life, it was the rejected kind of pain that was administered by one adolecent to another. But because they should know what happened, I told them.
Harlem, a year before the death of Doodle's mother:
Brin, she wasn't called Doodles yet of course, woke up on a beautiful morning in April and felt happy. She heard her mother calling her to wake her up. "I wonder if she needs my help in the shop t'day" Brin mused as she rolled out of her small comfortable bed and walked into the kitchen and living area of the apartment.
"Mornin mum," she said as she saw her mother sitting at the small table made pretty by a vase of flowers in the center.
Her mother, a dignified, beautiful woman despite the hard life she had lived just looked at Brin, no customary smile on her face.
"Whudds de matta?" Brin asked her warily. "Is sumthin wrong?"
"Well," her mother began carfully obviously making sure to pick the right words. "We're not doin so good right now, with the payments on the building and all our other expenses we have to keep up with."
Brin didn't say anything for a moment but she just watched her mother and she observed the tiredness on her face and the dark circles under her eyes. "Whudd do ye need me ta do?" Brin asked finally, knowing she would have to pull her weight for them to now survive and make a living.
"I hate te do this te ye..." her mother wavered, not wanting to make her only daughter release er last bit of childhood.
"Just tell me mum. I'm sixteen I know a lot of girls my age woik. Dey havta if dey're gonna survive, an if I havta join em den I will." Brin had always wanted to work, to help with the apartment and sewing shop below, but also just to be independent and have something of her own. As much as she loved and admired her mother she just wanted to be free, and live her life the way she chose, her dream being to one day travel the work and be an artist. With living in a small apartment with her mother those dreams had never seemed possible, almost as if they were to big for the small life they led.
"Ok, I think you could go be a news girl full time. I know its not de best thing a young lady does...but you'll be careful, I know you will." The one thing Brin's mother had always wanted for her daughter the most was for her to have the best, and be a lady like the ones that would visit her shop and buy fabrics of velvet and silk.
Brin had sold papes before and knew the ropes, some of the Harlem newsies had even been nice to her and she thought that maybe she could make some friends. Because her mother always been such a protechtor of her, and had homeschooled her and kept such a tight leash around her she had never been able to make friends. She had no way to. Now she would be released out into the world, free to make friends for whom she had always yearned.
"Ok!" Brin couldn't contain her excitement. The one thing her mother had never understood was that it didn't matter how fine and fancy you lived but how happy you were with your life. Brin thought that her mother needed more happiness but she hadn't yet learned how to give it to her but she so badly wanted to give it to her. "I'm glad ye've asked me ta woik. I'm old enough and I will be carefull."
Her mother still didn't look thrilled at the idea of sending Brin to wotk. But she thought about her late night number crunching looking for an alternative but she had found none. It was either give up the shop and apartment or have Brin work and she seemed eager enough for that anyways.
"Well than, I guess you start t'day," her mother said trying to make her face cheerful. "Have fun, I'm going to the shop now, it's time to open. But be careful," her mother said backing towards the door, looking as if she did not want Brin to go anywhere.
Brin nodded. "Thanks mum, I will."
"And don't talk to strangers, oh be home before it's dark, it can be dangerous..."her mother added as she grasped the handle of the door to go downstairs to the shop.
"Mum, I'll be fine," Brin said exasparated. "I'll be fine."
Her mother nodded, turned and walked out the door. Her footsteps were heard faintly going down the stairs as Brin spun in a tight circle hugging her arms to herself in happiness. Then she hurried off to get ready to sell.
There were things that Brin's mother didn't know about her daughter and would have her horrified if she knew. Not that they were bad things, they were just things that Brin's mother would consider improper. One was that Brin knew how to fight and had used her skills more than once. She had realized that fighting was a skill that she must have, growing up where she did and she had learned this first hand.
When she was eight years old her mother, much loved though rather naïve sent her alone, to a nearby shop to pick up some random items they needed. Just an inocent little girl, Brin hadn't noticed the big boys following her. When they pushed her into an alley and stole the milk and other items she had picked up plus the rest of her money she had with her she had not been able to stop them. Neither had she been able to stop them when they punched her face and body. When she walked home bloodied up and bruised, it had terrified her mother who had always been weak, never one to stand up to male defiance or agression. So her mother kept her in the apartment giving her an education but only allowed out when it was light. But Brin, so different from her mother needed air and space.
Though always obedient to her mother she realized in this she could not be. She snuck out during the night and found a place that taught her how to fight. She would go out a night even if just for a bit of air and freedom. Her mother never knew anything about her disobediance to her and Brin never had felt reason to tell her.
Brin walked down the street enjoying the freedom of walking alone. It was only a short walk to the distrabution center in Harlem and she arrived to find it already crowded with newsies. She was walking towards the line to join it when hands clamped themselves over her eyes.
"Guess who." Came an obviously distorted voice of a boy. Brin had an idea of who it might be but she wasn't sure.
"Uh...I dunno," she said not wanting to say the wrong peson.
"Oh fine, ye spoil sport."
The hands came away from her eyes and she saw she had, in her head guessed right. It was Deuce, a newsie she had met during her occasional selling. She had known him a short time but in that time she had begun to like him more than a friend. She had not had any experience with boys before and she wasn't sure of these new feelings inside her. She was nervous in this but she made her forward personality take charge.
"Guess whudd," she said to him as they stood in line together.
"Whudd?" he asked her.
"I'm gonna be sellin ful time now," she said and the thrill of independence swept through her again.
"Hey dats great!" he said to her then looked embarassed. "Uh, I'm guessin dat dat's a good thing?"
"Yea," Brin told him happy. She thought he was the perfect guy, so nice, understanding and not to mention totally handsome. She was amazed at her good luck that she would be able to see him every day from now on.
"Good....uh do ye think ye'd maybe wanna sell wid me t'day?" he said unsure of himself. He thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and interesting as well. He looked at her hopefully.
Brin didn't have to think twice. "Sure! I mean I'd love te," she said not wanting to sound as eager and happy as she really was.
So theygot their papers and headed off happily for a day of selling together.
Life was good. This was one thing that Brin was sure of as she walked to the distribution center that morning happy at the prospect of earning money and seeing Deuce. It had been three weeks since she had begun full time and she couldn't have been happier at how things were going. Deuce had asked her out a week after she had started full time and she of course had said yes. So far it was perfect, they sold together, talked together and had fun when selling and also when not selling. She grinned as she thought about their first kiss, the feeling of...she went on grinning and thinking of him and that as she contunued making her way to work.
As Brin walked on happily someone else was thinking about her and not in the way one wants to be thought of. This someone wasn't against Brin, not really. His name was Knuckles and what he was, besides being a Harlem newsie, was cruel. He enjoyed making people feel horrible and always had, he didn't know why and didn't really give a damn why, he just did what made him happy no matter how it made other people feel. He also was one to use his opportunities and take his chances, as long as it didn't risk him being the one to get pissed on. He had an opportunity and he was gonna take a chance today on the new girl.
"Brin..." he though her name to himself. Now she was one he wouldn't mind getting his hands on except for that bastard Deuce. He had been smooth on that one Knuckles thought. He was just a joke, nothing real there except for the fact he probably wanted to get some. For that though he couldn't blame him. But that was besides the point, today he was going to spill all in front of everybody and he would enjoy watching the breakup of that unperfect couple and Brin's devestation...
Brin arrived and this time she snuck up on Deuce.
"Good mornin," she said as he whirled around to face her.
He forced a grin. This whole thing wasn't even going anywhere with her all happy and romantic, but hey he was going to stick with it, for now at least. "Good mornin," he leaned forwards and kissed her on the mouth. When he didn't break away Brin moved away and grabbed his hand then pulled him towards the line to get their papes.
As they talked about nothing in particular on that sunny perfect day, they suddenly heard a commotion. They looked over at the entry gates and saw a newsie that Brin recognized but didn't know. He was talking to her she realized.
"Brin" the boy called in a raised voice.
"Yea?" she said questioningly. "Do I know ye?" she then added boldly.
"Who doesn't know me?" he responded cockily. "Me names Knuckles."
"Whudd de ye wan?" Deuce then said to him harshly repeating what Brin had said.. He knew about Knuckles's notorius reputaion for stealing the ladies and didn't want him infringing on his territory.
"Jus wanted te bring some news I thought was rather interestin fer everyone te hea," he said the grin on his face not becoming melevilent.
Now the area had quieted and Knuckles was the center of attention. He had more than one remembered reputation. He had the reputation for finding the most interesting news, really it was gossip, and though most tended to be lies no one wanted to be the one to miss out on the latest news from Knuckles. It would most likely be the topic of concorsation for the next week if it was as good as it had been in the past.
"Whudd de ye mean?" Brin said warily. She had noticed the change in all the newsies surrounding them. Obviously this Knuckles was someone to watch out for though she didn't yet know why. She would soon find out.
"Where's yer fadda?" Knuckles he taunted her and her color immediately flushed into pink. He always enjoyed the taunts before going in for the kill.
"I don see how dats any a yer business," she said trying to remain cool despite the hurt and anger that ran through her. "I don even know ye so why de ye care?" she attempted to walk with dignaty off the platform to leave but Deuce grabbed her arm. She looked at him questioningly.
"So jus spill it," Deuce said. "Whudds de big story?"
Brin felt as though she had been betrayed. Knuckles had no right to go telling everyone her lifes history, though she was a little confused. There was nothing scandolous about her life except for her father leaving her and her mother on account of being a bastard. But as he had already revealed that what was to come? She didn't really know because it had sounded like the jest about her father was only the beginning.
"After her fadda left her an her wretched mudda," he began as though telling some lovely story to all those standing around waiting for each word. He continued. "For reasons only he may know dey wera poora dan sin. Brin's mudda woiked in sweatshops te support her an her baby, Brin o course. But..." he took a dramatic pause, "out o de blue she came along some money an wah la, dey had a shop, an apartment, an food on de table." He turned his attention to Brin completely."Betcha don't know how she got dat money." He taunted her as she only had one thought in her head, to deck him straight in the face. She longed to see blood gush from his nose when he broke it. But she restrained herself for her mother and what she had taught her about being a lady.
When she didn't reply he laughed. "I know. Yer mudda was a whore. She got fed up with the life o hard work an no payoff so she sold her body te live high. Ye've got whore blood in ye, how many times ye whored yeself eh? How much?" he took a coin out of his pocket and tossed it into the air, grinning maliciously.
She couldn't restrain herself any longer. "How dare ye ye bastard! How could ye even say dat bout me an me mudda?! Ye don know me an ye don know her! She isn't a whore an she worked honestly te get de shop an dis life fer me!" as she yelled this at him she jumped off the platform and ran towards him. She moved to punch him straight in the face but at that time she was hardly practiced with her fighting and especially not with the dirty fighting that was used by the thugs on the street in Harlem. Her right arm was strong as it headed for his face but he swung his arm around and hitting her in the stomach totally winded her to the point where she was on the ground, the air totally gone from her lungs. She couldn't exactly tell what was going on around but she could hear Knuckles's laughter and what possibly some other' s as well. She looked up at Deuce who had followed her off the platform, expecting him to help her, defend her. She saw almost immediately that he had no intention of doing so though. His face was distorted into an expression foreign to her, disgust.
"Deuce?" she said with a question in het tone wondering what was wrong. Why wasn't he helping her, defending her from the bastard who had managed to strike her down?
"I ain't datin no whore," he said simply and as Brin regained her feet turned from her.
"I'm not a whore!" Brin exclaimed in a shout as she began to cry. "And neither was me mudda! How could ye?" she asked Deuce's back as he began te walk away. He never turned around but kept walking. In the next months she would be glad of that because of the bastard he was but at that moment all she wanted was a friend to comfort and protect her. She wouldn't find one there.
Knuckles was still laughing and she turned towards him ignoring the crowd of newsies surrounding them in the distrubution center. Some looked sympathetic though some shared the same melevolent smile and chuckle as Knuckles. She didn't care about them just then however.
"Burn in hell!" she shouted at Knuckles and knowing she couldn't beat the living shit out of him as she so desperatly wanted to she ran from the center sobbing.
Brin didn't tell her mother about what had happened with Deuce and Knuckles and though she really was curious about how her mother had gotten the money, for even she didn't know she never asked and her mother would die before she got a chance to. Over the next few days Brin attempted to keep up her work as a newsie, but after awhile she couldn't take it any longer so she decided she must get another job. Unluckily for her the only open spot for someone like her was at a sweatshop. But Brin knew she would never be able to see those newsies again or the others who had watched her be humiliated and shamed. So she went to work everyday from sun up to sun down never telling her mother the reason she was out so early and back so late. Every once in awhile she would pass one of the newsies in the street and they would yell things at her to horrible to write, but she still bared it all and kept her dignaty for it was all she had left...
I finished telling my story to Race and Spot and they looked a little stunned.
"I neva got te have friends befora youse..." I said shamefully. "Dats why I thought...I thought that ye'd wan me gone."
"Dose assholes!" Spot exclaimed. "I don know all de Harlem newsies to good but dey're all bastards."
Race had put his arms around me in comfort but I still felt stupid. All the feelings I had over all this a year ago were coming back, especially the hurt. But them I realized that the hurt wasn't a sharp pain anymore, it was transforming into fury. How dare they have done that to me, they had no right all. It had just been plain cruelty. I felt myself fill with new determination to achive my dreams, a determination I couldn't have found without my new found friends.
"Thanks ye guys," I said. "But now I've decided dat I wanna go te Harlem. I wanna show em whudd I've become an dat I ain't afraid o dem anymoa."
"Lets go," Race said anger in his eyes but determination as well. "We're gonna show dose Harlem idiots whudd dey missed out on."
I laughed. "I'm glad ye guys weren't as dumb an petty as dey were."
"Hell if I was dat pig brained I whudden't be leada o Brooklyn," Spot said.
I felt good now and ready to kick ass. It had never come into my head when I was living in Harlem but now, now I was a changed girl. My new friends had brought out the best in me and I was greatful for them and that.
"Ok, lets go!" I said and we started off for Harlem full of new determination.