"I hate to sound childish, ungrateful, I don't like to moan. But do you know represent anyone's cause but your own?"

Evita

(Evelyn's POV)

"May I…a…Help you two young ladies?"

I turned around and looked at a man, about 50 or 60. He has glasses and a battered bowler hat. Sam stood up to address the man. I couldn't move I just sat there, trying to hold back the hot tears that were rolling down my face.

"I'm so sorry sir, we were just leaving," Sam stepped of the stoop and onto the chilly sidewalk, "come on Evy."

"May I ask what's wrong?" The man bent down to look at my face. He sounded so kind and sincere. I could not hold back the tears any longer. The man put his hand on my shoulder as I continued to sob into my hands.

"It's our father sir, he's…" Sam looked at the ground.

"He's gone," I uttered though my sobs, "he's gone." He gently pulled me up.

"Why don't you come inside and I'll get you a nice, hot cup of tea." He guided me through the door and into a small parlor-type room behind a large, shabby front desk.

Fifteen minutes later, I was siting on a couch sipping hot tea while Sam recounted what had happened. "That's that, and we ended up here Mr.Kloppmen…by the way…where is here?"

"Here….is da Manhattan Newsboys logdin' house," A boy, about 17 or so, walked into the room. The boy was tallish, with slightly rumpled sandy hair and held himself confidently, almost swaggering as he walked. Still, his brown eyes took in everything with ease, as if he knew how things worked and was merely waiting for something interesting to happen. "You didn't wake us up Kloppmen, hows we gonna sell papes wit our eyes shut?" he looked at Sam then at me, "Whats going on?"

"I do believe that these two young ladies are in need of some assistence," he said turning to us, "Well, if you wouldn't mind sharing a room with boys, I'm sure they would be happy to make room for you."

Sam looked at me, then at kloppmen, then at the boy, then back at me. I knew that face all to well. Pride. She was going to decline. Her damn pride was going to put us in a place I didn't want to be…on the streets. So…I disided to step in.

"We wouldn't mind at all Mr.Kloppmen, thank you." I gave Sam a quick glance that told her to keep her mouth shut and all opinions to herself. She looked back at me with a look of irritation and defeat, just like the ones she gave to father every time he caught her sneaking out or in an cough intristing situations with whoever she was dateing at the time.

"This heres Jack Kelly," Kloppman motioned to the boy who had walked in earlier. "He'll show ya up at the bunks." he turned to Jack, "Take good care of them Cowboy."

Jack nodded and and lead the way up an old, dark wooden starcase. "What shud I call yous?" he said in a gentle voice.

"I'm Samantha, but please call me Sam," She smiled at him and walked up beside him. And so the flurting begins! I laughed to myself…well out loud.

Jack turned and looked at me, "Whats so funny?" he said smiling

"Nothing…I'm Evelyn or Evy…whatever you like." Jack continued walking up the stairs until we reached a small landing with two doors leeding of it. He pointed to the door on the left.

"This is the wash room," then he pointed to the right, "and this here is the bording room. There is a spare bunk on the end."

I looked into the room, there were about…o 20 to 25 boys siting down on bunks or getting ready to leave. They all looked up and became silent.

What the hell haveI gottin us into?