Thanks to my faithful reviewers! I love hearing good things that inflate my ego a little bit… haha. I would like to point out that my math skills in the last chapter were severely lacking. I was going to start chapter two with Genevieve already on the Teutonic so I meant for it to have been 2 weeks since the last entry. At the last minute I changed my mind and neglected to change the dates that I had already written. So, I send my most heartfelt apologies to everyone who was upset by my calendar issues. I was so determined to update very quickly and very often but the college thing…homework, reading, studying, papers, going to class, working…it takes up a lot of my precious writing time. Any whooselles…I don't own Newsies and anyone that wasn't in the movie is my own creation. Without much further ado, here is chapter 3 of Genevieve.
Chapter 3
May 9th, 1899. Somewhere on Earth (I am not going to tell you where!)
My Dearest Friends,
There is so much to say and so little time, well so little light left in the day. I must keep you in suspense for just a little while for I wish to tell you everything before I tell you anything.
Does that make sense? Well it should not! Hehe, you are in my power for now and I intend to make the most of it.
When I last left you, I was mercilessly brought down from my ecstasy into a state of deep depression. That night I cried myself into a fitful sleep, filled with disturbing dreams. I shall
impart one of them to you because I wish you to know what I was feeling at the time and also, it was a pretty vivid (and frightening!) dream. Aboard a large passenger ship, I was
leaning over the side, staring at a beam of light emanating from the depths of the ocean. A frigid wind was beating my hair into my face and splashes of cold salt water were nipping
at my nose. From behind me, a shadow loomed and I was roughly pushed off of my balance. I toppled over the side of the ship into the icy water;
my breath torn from my body.
In the midst of this action, I was jolted back to reality and consciousness by my family's rooster (and I am certainly not a morning person to begin with, so imagine a severely
depressed girl who cannot wake up in the morning, has just lost a chance to follow her dreams and has been pushed off the edge of the boat in a nightmare!) I groaned and turned
over but it was no use. Stumbling towards the ceramic basin used for washing in the morning, I sighed and moaned as if I was a spirit in a state of unrest, eternally wandering the
Earth in search of her lost love. I was not happy! (if you can imagine!)
Now I do not pretend that dreams are predictions of anything in particular but I do think that I can interpret mine and it is very simple:
Boat Teutonic
Light My dreams and ambitions and New York City
Shadow My mother killing me
So there you have it! I have a talent. Perhaps I should forget about farming and literature and join the traveling circus as a fortune teller or a dream interpreter or the bearded lady.
Well that was a little strange because I do not have a beard nor do I want one, for that matter.
I am normally not one to mope, but I did spend three days in my room sulking. Every member of my family took turns knocking on my door, trying to rouse me out of my sadness,
but what could they do? After all, it was their fault that I was not packing to begin a new life in America. I just could not fathom the fact that I had been given the chance of lifetime
and it had been taken away from me before I could even begin to plan anything or even really think about it.
Let me let you in on another one of the many secrets that I hold underneath my rather thick hair. Ever since I can remember I have loved reading, learning, plays, literature, poetry,
words, song, speech, prose; everything that you can imagine. Being from a relatively poor family, I did not have any chance to go to school after I turned ten so most of my learning
has been accumulated from ingesting the classics that Mrs. Ford stocked in her extensive library. All of those books made me realize that I want to learn more and more and
someday maybe I could have the chance to impart my knowledge onto other people who are as eager to learn as I am. I want to go to university and earn a college degree, but that
is only a dream. Alas, it is only wishful thinking. Even if they would let a woman or girl, go to university, there is no money to pay for my education. I mean, I know enough to be
able to assist at the small primary school in my village, but my mother is under the misconception that women who are teachers become old spinster ladies who never marry, never
reproduce and are never happy. I am sure that I do not want that, but I do want to shape the minds of children. Even if they only go to school for a limited amount of time they
should still learn basic reading, writing and arithmetic skills. It just kills me to see so many children working at the factories and on the streets. Even poor children should be able to
learn, no matter if they have to work or not. I read in the paper that in America, the working children went on strike so that they could get better wages and conditions to work in.
Maybe they should strike to get schooling too. Well, that is what I would do.
I suppose I was a little dramatic about the whole situation, but I have no regrets because for once in my life, being stubborn actually got me something that I wanted. To you, my
friends, I do not recommend wallowing in self pity for 3 days, but if your intentions are right then you may be able to get somewhere.
One morning I was lying in my bed, staring at the crack I in the ceiling above my bed. It was raining and drips were coming through the ceiling in such a steady flow that I had to
hold my chamber pot on my stomach to catch the water. Every so often a drop would hit my face, but instead of wiping it off, I would let the drip slide down my face like a tear. I
was wet, I was cold, I was dirty and I was tired of making my point.
"So what" I thought. "So, I don't get to go the land of Golden Opportunity. Who cares anyways?"
Yet again, a soft knock came at the door to my room. I do not know what possessed me to do it, but I got out of my bed and cracked open the door. My mother was standing at
the door with a letter in her hand.
"What do you want?" I asked, a bit harsher than I mean to.
"This letter came in the mail, addressed to me and your father from one Eilinora Ford. It seems she mailed it the day she passed away. I want you to read it, then come down for
breakfast, you haven't eaten in three days." She said and then turned on her heel and walked back down the hall.
I plopped down on my bed and unfolded the piece of paper that was in my hand.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. O'Malley,
I hope that this letter reaches you in time for Genevieve to make the trip across the Atlantic, to America. I do not know if she told you, but I have given her my ticket. What does an old woman like me need a new life for anyway? I see spark in your daughter and a wit and intelligence way beyond her years. Truthfully, I believe that she is being stifled here in Dublin and for the sake of her sanity; she needs to make this journey to America. I understand that you may be a bit apprehensive at sending your daughter in the world, alone, but do not worry I have made arrangements for Genevieve to travel as a companion to my good friend Mrs. Aileen Ellis. Mrs. Ellis is in need of a young woman to read to her and serve her meals and do simple maid tasks for her. She will of course be paid and I am sure that Genevieve will be more than happy to contribute her wages to the welfare of your large family.
She is not a little girl anymore, surely you see that. Please understand that she needs to go. I assure you that she will be well looked after and provided for.
Best to your family,
Eilinora Ford
There was another tap at my door. I crept over and opened it to find my mother standing in the doorway holding a large bag, with a wooden trunk at her feet.
"You'll need these." she said.
I flew into her arms, crying tears of joy.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you" I cried.
So, they gave in and I, Genevieve Elisabeth O'Malley, am taking a journey across the ocean to the greatest country in the world. I can hardly sleep. The next time that I will write
words across this paper, I will be on the Teutonic and out on the ocean. Till then my kindred spirits!
Genevieve
May 9th, 1899 Manhattan, New York, USA
Jack Kelly lay awake in his bunk at the lodging house. He did not know why he could not fall asleep, but whatever it was, was starting to really annoy him. Rolling onto his back,
Jack sighed, staring at the crack in the ceiling that lay above his head. His date with Sarah was not anything special. They talked, they ate, they walked, they kissed; it was their
routine, their way. Lately, little things about her had started to annoy him. Whenever she would cling to his arm, Jack would flinch and every word that came out of her mouth
sounded like a complaint even if it was something as simple as "Pass the salt".
"What is with her anyways?" he whispered into the dark of the bunk room.
He could not have lost all feelings for her, could he? Jack was almost positive that he had, but he could not stand to break her heart and have David break his nose.
"I guess I'll have to deal with it somehow" he said and rolled over, onto his side, falling into a deep slumber.
Across the bunk room, Skittery was sound asleep, dreaming of the girl with the bright, dancing eyes that would make him happy and make him believe in love again.
What happens when Genevieve is on The Teutonic? What does Jack do about his "Sarah" problem? What happened to make poor Skitts have no faith in girls or love? Tune in for Chapter 4 to find out. Sorry that this one was a little on the short side. I swear that Genevieve will actually meet the Newsies in Chapter 5..or 6 hahaha…probably 5…I'm not that evil, I swear. Feel free to Review and tell me what you think, or offer suggestions if you want. I do have pages and pages of notes that I have written about what I want to write in this fan fiction but I do welcome any ideas or characters. Lemme know!