December 17, 1828

. . . The snowy carriage ride did culminate in the children's enrollment in the East Side Orphanage. I stayed outside during the proceedings because I did not want anyone to see and recognize me. I don't know what happened to those children, whether they were upset or whether they were happy at the prospect of gaining families. My guess is that they were somewhere in between the two extremes.

Fagin came back out after he had finished dropping them off. He climbed back into the carriage and we set off for home.

"Nasty business," I commented.

"Yes, my dear, but I want a change," he rubbed his hands together and blew on them.

"What about the Dodger and Charlie?"

"They . . . well . . . I don't know, my dear. They are hard to persuade; they are the oldest I have and children become stubborn by the age of thirteen."

"Why don't you keep them?" I knew it was a stupid question.

Fagin went silent. He looked out at the snow and sighed, "I have not the money, my dear. Or I would."

I could not help but raise my eyebrows at that, "Really?"

"Then again," Fagin continued, " Charlie likes you. He wrote that poem about you," he looked over at me and grinned, "Charlie might like being with you . . . and Dodge wouldn't mind (I hope) living with you."

"Alright. I will take them if they are fine with that," I put my freezing hands in my pockets, "Where are you going to go?" I was curious and a little worried about this.

Fagin shook his head, "I haven't a clue, my dear."

"If I take Charlie and Dodge, would you like to join us?"

"My dear, that is very intriguing. But, what use would I be?"

"None at all," I said. Fagin gave an almost (if possible) hurt expression.

"What?!"

"I mean, you don't need to be of any use. Go ahead, enjoy your retirement. I can afford to let you have some fun."

Fagin obviously did not see this as fact.

I plowed on, "You see, I have another job. I . . . I work at that orphanage."

Fagin gave me a very sharp look, "My dear! You lied to me?! You could have gotten us out of this whole darn mess and you didn't even bother to?!"

I was astounded, "You wouldn't have minded it?"

"How much do you make, my dear?" Fagin continued.

"Enough to own a two-story victorian on the east side of town," I answered, "And another thing. Now I hope you will forgive me for this, but my name is actually James Edvard and all that stuff I pick-pocketed - that stuff is my own personal belongings."

Fagin practically jumped off of the seat at that, "You . . . YOU, turned in Mr. Lively?! You, you, you . . . ." he had lost his voice.

The carriage stopped and he immediately went inside. I followed, wondering whether it was really safe for me to.

"A ha!" cried Charlie after Fagin and I entered the kitchen, "Dodge was right! You did get rid of Robert, Morgan, George, and Tim!" Charlie pointed at Fagin in an accusatory manner.

"My dears! That does not apply to you. You are not going to go to an orphanage! You are going to go with James and I!"

"Who's James?" they both asked in unison.

"Him!" said Fagin, pointing at me, "The man who lied about his name, his whereabouts, his personality, his work, his financial position, . . ."

"What did you do that for, pray tell?" Dodge looked slightly angry.

I went into a very long detailed account of myself and my business. I will not bother the reader in retelling all. By the end, thought, Dodge and Charlie became amused with the whole thing.

"Clever. Dirty rotten of you," Dodge gave a small smile.

Charlie couldn't say anything because, by that time, he had found my double life so sufficiently funny that he collapsed on the floor, laughing and out of breath.

"My dears," intervened Fagin, "We must get packing!"

"Right!," said Charlie, "That will take all of five minutes! Hey Dodge!"

"What?"

"Don't forget to grab the toilet paper out of the privy!"

Dodger shook his head and headed upstairs followed by his comical companion.

Half and hour later, everyone was standing outside the front door in the snow. There were three trunks resting on the ground. Charlie had been sent to get a carriage and Dodge was spending the spare minutes trying to keep from freezing while Fagin locked the door and placed the key under the doormat.

"Cold?" I asked the Dodger.

"Ya think?" he replied and hugged himself tightly, his body shaking.

"Try jumping around, my dear," suggested Fagin.

"No way," answered the Dodger.

"Suite yourself," the elderly gentleman replied, "Ah, here comes Charlie!"

"The carriage is parked on Velvet Avenue. The driver says he can't ride any further through the alleys," Charlie grabbed his trunk.

"Rats!" Fagin looked up towards the sky, "They don't cater very well in cold weather. We'll just have to button up and take it."

We walked to the carriage and set off in the direction of my house. I was very excited about going home. It felt like ages since I could sit before my own fire, sleep in my own bed, wear my usual attire . . .

The carriage stopped at my stone walk-way. Fagin, Dodge, and Charlie all stared up at my house with awe.

"My, my, . . ." was all Fagin could say.

I smirked, feeling very smug. It was a mansion compared to where they had lived.

I led them up the walk-way and into the entry.

"I'll show you around," I offered.

"No need, my dear," spoke Fagin, "They boys and I will do fine if left to explore."

"Hey, James!" called Charlie, "Is that real leather?" he was peering into the living room, "And is that a marble fireplace?!"

I grinned at him, "Yes."

"Oh, boy! We get to live here and sit on those leather couches and stair at the fire in a marble fireplace! WOW!" Charlie went into the room and flopped onto the couch.

Dodge, in the meantime, had followed Fagin up the stairs to check out the bedrooms. All in all, it was a good day for them and for me. Actually, especially for me because of the fact that I got to see their happy faces and also, because I felt that I had outdone myself this time. I had set out to help Nancy, but I ended up helping Fagin, Charlie, and Dodge as well. My self-esteem had risen greatly. . .

This sounds like the ending chapter, but it is not! I have more plans in mind. Please leave a review! I want to thank Broken Amethyst and Charlene Bates for their support in my endeavors! - Elaine Dawkins