My name was Martha Ann Cole, but few know me by that name. On the stage I was known as Medda Larkson, the Swedish Meadowlark. My parents must be rolling over in their graves at what I have become. I'm not really proud of myself either.
Maybe I should go back a bit. My parents died when I was fifteen and I took my mother's pearls and ran to New York to the man I thought loved me. He didn't marry me, but offered to let me live with him. About a year later we had a baby; a beautiful son that I named Daniel.
Then one day a short time later my lover simply didn't come home. After several days of little food, I knew that I had to get a job. I had no training, but I could sing, so I took a job on the stage. It was not on a grand stage in front of well dressed people, on this stage the men in the audience were not impressed by my voice, but with how little I wore. I paraded my body on stage while my precious baby slept in the dressing room.
Some time over the next couple of years I lost sight of why I was on that stage. It was no longer about that darling boy sleeping in the dressing room, but about the money I was making and the little fame I had gotten among the bawdy houses in Manhattan. I could perform in any of them that I wanted and when one offered me a better deal, I would move to a new theatre. By the time my little boy was seven, he had taken it upon himself to earn money so that he could eat, because I had often forgotten to bring him food or give him money.
When he was eight I did the thing that I regret most. I agreed to go on a tour of the country with a man who would not allow me to bring my son along. So I left little Daniel alone on the streets of the cruel city. This was the biggest mistake I had ever made, though I didn't realize it until later.
I had never forgotten about my son and everywhere I looked I saw his face. After I returned some years later and it was my Daniel who found me. He was quite grown and had taken over the care of a baby girl that was left on the doorstep of the building where he lived. We never again had the close relationship that we had once had, but he did keep in contact and allowed me to spend time with that precious little girl…and later her friends among the newsies. When I bought my own theatre, I made sure my employees knew that the newsies were always welcome. I suppose it was my way of trying to make up for what I had done to my son. Perhaps when Rae is old enough I shall give her my mother's pearls as I shall never have a daughter of my own to pass them on to.
--The End--
Author's Note: Hope you all enjoyed this little story. I've been trying to work on my narration and this story started as an exercise to do just that. However, I enjoyed writing it so much that I decided to write another one. The next one will be all original characters...involving the descendants of a sibling of the man Rae married. Be looking for it soon...