Three Unlikely Friends
Chapter One:
New Comer of Brooklyn
The wind blew into the cattle car of the train. Wind swirled around the car, then back out into the cold winter day. She sat huddled in a corner, her long blonde hair blowing in the wind. Her hair covered her face then moved away as another blast of wind took over. She closed her perfect emerald green eyes and shivered again. Suddenly, she heard a whistle and tugged the black and grey hat farther over her eyes. The train was pulling into a station and this was the one she was planning on jumped out of. She lifted the hat and stuffed her hair underneath it and then replaced the cap. She walked to the edge of the car and waited for it to slow down enough for her jump without being hurt. Finally after a few tense moments, the train was slow enough for her take the leap. She closed her eyes and jumped, landing in a small pile of grass that made her fall easier on her feet.
She looked to where the car had stopped and laughed. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her chilled body. Her legs carried her into the town and she walked up to the first person she saw and asked, "Where am I?" She had asked a woman and the woman scoffed and replied, "Kid, you're in Brooklyn, New Yoik." The girl growled and her hands formed fists, but her long sleeves covered the fists long enough for the woman to pass. Maybe it was a good thing she looked like a guy when it came to the clothes she always wore. She shook her head and unclenched her hands and began to walk towards the heart of the city, even though she had no idea where she was headed. She passed by a boy selling papers and she heard him yell out, "Bank burns down in Manhattan!" A good amount of people walked over and handed him a penny for a paper, then walked away. She stopped and studied him. She could obviously see his sandy blonde hair and his height of 5'7 and he seemed to have a tough exterior. She walked closer to him and pulled out a penny she'd stolen from the lady she'd been talking to. She headed over to him and said, in a gruff male-like voice, "I'll take a paper." The boy handed her a paper and said, "Here ya are, sir. Enjoy da 'eadlines. They're good taday."
She nodded and paid him, walking away and opening the paper. She flipped through the paper and then bumped into a policeman, who had the lady she'd been talking to before. "That's the boy that stole my money!" the lady yelled, pointing at her. She closed the paper and turned and began running for her life, but her collar was grabbed by the policeman and yanked backwards. She spun on the cop and began trying to fight him. Suddenly, the cop released her collar and the boy who'd sold her the paper was standing there. He grabbed her arm and pulled her along behind him as he ran. "You'se new ta this town, ain't ya!" he asked, looking at her. She nodded and he looked ahead once more. He dragged her into an alley and the up the fire escape to the roof of the building on the left of them. The cop had followed them and looked around as he stumbled to a stop. Upon not seeing them, he walked away and up to the woman to explain he'd lost them. The girl laughed as the woman hit the policeman upside the head with her purse and you could hear her yelling, "You lost my money and the boy! And you call yourself a cop!" The policeman flushed and walked away with his head hanging low.
"What's you'se name?" the boy asked, looking at her and studying her features. The girl's face hardened and she replied, "None of your business!" He stood taller and growled, "You challengin' me, boy!" She straightened her back and stood at the height of 5'6 and a half, half an inch shorter then the boy. The boy saw she was close to his height, but he didn't back down, his reputation was too strong to let her get away with that comment, for no one talked to the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies like that. She studied his face and saw, for the first time, he had icy blue-ish green eyes and he was pretty good looking, for a guy. She turned her back on him and he taunted, "What? Backin' down, chicky?" She whirled on him and snapped, "I could beat you scrawny ass in a heartbeat!" He forced a laugh, though he knew that could possibly be true. He stepped half a step back and then retook that step to keep his poseur. She smiled and asked, "What scared a wittle ole me?"
He stepped closer to her and grabbed her collar, lifting her off the ground and pushed her into the wall that leads downstairs into the building below their very feet. She let out a gasp of slight gasp of surprise at his sudden amount of strength. He smiled and pushed her into the wall harder and stepped closer to her. His face was now inches from hers. He could see a slight bit of red creeping into her cheeks and he let her go and stepped back, asking himself in thoughts, 'Is that a blush? Is he attracted to me? He sure as hell better not be or I'll beat his ass!' The girl fell from the wall and slid down it and landed on her behind. She jumped up and got ready to fight him if he threatened her again. She didn't know why he'd fallen back and she didn't care, as long as he didn't touch her again.
The pendant that was around her neck swung lightly and then hung loosely; she picked it up and held it in her hands and it glowed a deep crimson color. The boy saw her pendant and then looked at her face. He sighed and said, "You're not worth it, boy, you're not worth it." He turned and began walking. The girl watched him and then shrugged, not caring if he walked. Suddenly it hit her that she didn't know where anything was. She walked over and tapped the boy's shoulders. He looked over his shoulder asked, "What, kid?" His eyes were hard and she sighed again. "Do ya know a place I could stay for the night?" she asked, in her male voice. He eyed her and then replied, "Yeah, there's a place ya could stay. But only for da night."
She smiled and asked, "What's your name?" The boy studied her once more and finally answered, "Spot. Me names Spot Conlon. Who are you'se?" She stepped back and replied, "Striker." Spot nodded and asked, "No last name, Strikah?" She shook her head no and followed as Spot climbed down from the roof and into the busy streets once more.
More than an hour after Striker and Spot met, they were in a decent conversation as they headed to the Brooklyn Newsboy's Lodging House, or the place all the newsboys slept and hung out. Spot told Striker it was on the docks and his boys always swam after a long day of selling newspapers. He also told her he was the best at slingshot than anyone in New York and Jack Kelly, leader of the Manhattan newsboys, was the best at selling papers. "But," he said, "That was over in Manhattan. How about all New Yoik?"