So here's the next chapter! Happy New Year! I want to thank you for all of your continued support! Please feel free to leave any comments or suggestions. *Now Edited*
Chapter 5- Friend or Foe?
Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby, I've been, I've been playing hard,
Sitting, no more counting dollars
We'll be counting stars, yeah we'll be counting stars
~One Republic: Counting Stars~
I began to stir from my sleep when I felt someone poking my shoulder.
"Snipeshooter stop, you're gonna wake her," I hear Mush scold.
Immediately the poking ceases and I feel a weight lift off the bed. I open my eyes a minute or so later only to see the younger kids tugging and pulling on Mush's shirt, Jack calling out the nightly rounds for the washroom, and Kid Blink running around the room holding Race's cigar with a rather irritated Race pursuing him.
"She's awake. Can I see if she'll read us a bedtime story now?" Snipeshooter impatiently asks Mush, continuing to tug on the hem of the older boy's shirt.
"Sure, I'll read you a story. Anything in mind?" I interject.
"I want you to choose. You always tell the best stories!" Snipeshooter exclaims, hopping up onto his bunk and staring at me with eager eyes.
The younger boys gathered around to listen to the story, while the older boys either started a game of cards or sat attentive from their bunks.
"Sherlock Holmes was one of the brightest detectives of his times; he could solve any case that was presented to him.
"Any?" Snipeshooter asks in awe.
"Yes. Now shush." I put my finger over my lips to signify for him to be quiet, "So, it wasn't out of the ordinary when a frazzled woman came into their office to tell her tragic tale, as so many who often visited did…" a tone of eerie mystery evident in my tone.
"…And so once again Sherlock, with the help of his partner, were able to conclude that the perpetrator had been no other than Dr. Roylott Grimsby. Who in the end, had been killed by his own killing machine."
I set the book I had read so many times down, my fingers tracing over the words Sherlock Holmes: The Adventures of the Speckled Band engraved on the cover. I scan the room to find the younger boys asleep in their bunks, having drifted off halfway through the story, and the others who had listened in now dealing out cards for a new game of poker. Wide awake, I make my way towards the window and out onto the fire escape. The cool, fresh air was oddly welcoming.
Sometime later groaning from the window frame being lifted is heard and the metal platform shudders underneath the newly-added weight of another person. I turn to see Jack raising his other leg through the opening of the window.
"Jeez, it's freezing out here! Are ya actually tryin' to catch a cold?" Jack teases, with a small amount of truth apparent in what he said.
"Nah, just trying to think." We sat there for a while, soaking the comfortable silence that fell between us.
"Ya know what I hate most about Nou Yawk?"
"What?" I giggle, amused at Jack's ability to bring the topic of Santa Fe into every conversation.
"How ya can nevah see the stars. I bet in Santa Fe ya can see more stars 'n ya can count."
"Even now we can see more stars than we can count," I counter.
"Yeah, but I hear it's like lookin' at an ocean."
"Doesn't that sound lonely?" I ponder, "All out West livin' by yourself? A small fish in a big ocean."
"I'll be lonely wherever I go. I ain't got any fam'ly to keep me company."
"Jack Kelly! You're so stupid sometimes!" I reprimand playfully, "Don't go tellin' me that bull. You've got thirty boys at your beck-and-call in there and you ignorant enough to say you ain't got family? Heck, they would even kiss the Delanceys if ya asked em' to."
"And you have me," I add, my voice becoming softer. "Don't ever forget that."
Jack was about to respond when I tense up. The echo of someone groaning from the alley below drifted up to where we were sitting. I warily glance at Jack, who picks up on the faded moans, as well. Carefully, we made our way down the steps alert for anyone lurking around. The sound of something shifting behind the dumpsters caught our attention. Making our way over there, we came upon a boy about my age covered with bruises and dried blood. I turn my head towards the entrance of the alleyway when I hear the pitter-patter of footsteps running away. I was too late, though, because all I can see are the silhouette of two figures darting around the corner. I look back at Jack to see that he was holding the now unconscious boy in his arms.
"Let's take him up to the lodge, and when he wakes up we can figure out what happened," Jack instructed me.
The mystery boy was placed on an empty bed, and tended to by some of the other boys. Knowing that I would be accompanying Jack on his paper selling tomorrow, I decided that I should prepare for bed. Within minutes, I was drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
"Up and at em' boys! Time to sell the papes! Rise and Shine!" Kloppman yells the next morning, summoning the boys from their beauty sleep.
"What about him?" Runner asked Jack, gesturing towards the still sleeping boy we had rescued from the alley last night.
"I'll take care of him," Kloppman informs us.
Eventually, everyone was awake and energetically walking out the door. It never ceases to amaze me how much energy they had. I mean it was barely dawn, and they were acting as if they had drunken three cups of coffee. We stop by the nuns to get breakfast before we made our way towards the gates.
"Well, well, well. Who is this lovely lady here?" Morris Delancey asked, adjusting the bowler hat on top of his head.
"Finally found someone for yourself, Jack? Never thought of you to be one who would go for the younger ladies, but we do what we have to do," Oscar Delancey mocks, while Morris sends Jack kissy faces.
"Why don't ya go and pick on someone ya own size? I think I sees some preschoolers over dere," Race retorts, defending his friends.
Jack puts a protective arm around my shoulder and added, "You lil' as lay a hand on her, and you'll be dead in the Hudson River by tomorrow mornin'."
They must have gotten the message because they scurry away, tripping here and there, and began to stand in line for the morning edition.
"Kate, ya can go stand by the Horace Greely statue while I go get the papes. I'll be back in a second," Jack tells me before leaving to go to the front of the line.
"Alright let's get ready to carry the bannah!" Jack rallies, arriving back at our set meeting point.
"Where are we going today, Jacky?"
"Hostage situation on Coney Island! Hundreds of lives at risk!" Jack cries out on Park Row, only a few blocks south of the World Distribution Center.
Having a girl beside you really helps to sell the papes, especially when they have their arm wrapped up in a bandage. Jack anticipated this happening, which explains the excess papers in his bag. I thought of all the stuff we made up today:
An older lady wobbled over, hoping to buy a paper. "My word. What happened to you sweetheart?"
"She got out of da insane insylum yesterday. Payin' housing for me an my sis now," Jack told her solemnly.
I grabbed onto the lady's arm. "Your cat! Yes, yes, your cat. She died but she wants to speak to you. She says she forgives you for getting another one, and that she is up in heaven where you can't put her in awful dresses anymore."
"Oh my, how did you know? My deary Isabelle, she died a few months ago!" her shaking hand giving Jack a nickel in exchange for a pape.
"Thank ya miss." Jack tilted his newsie cap at her.
After she left Jack gave me an odd look, but I just shrugged as we both began to laugh until our stomachs ached.
To say the least, it was a long but very interesting day.
We arrived back at the lodge and saw the new boy was sitting on the couch watching Snipeshooter and Les play fighting with their wooden swords. His face had regained its color, and his bruises were beginning to turn a light purple and yellow color. I now could see that he actually didn't look half bad. He had a very light tan to match his golden hair, and his height made him look rather skinny . He had big green eyes and soft, pale lips. I was actually kind of attracted to him, until he started talking.
I walked over to where he was sitting and introduced myself, "I'm Kate. Do you need me to get you anything?"
"No," he replied sharply. I was a bit taken aback by his attitude.
"Ok. Well, if you do feel free to ask me."
"What is a girl doing in a boy's lodging house?" He asked me, scrunching his nose.
"It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell it to you sometime," I told him with a light laugh. This time I really did leave to go upstairs. Halfway up, I realize that I didn't even know the boy's name yet. It's going to be a long next couple of days with this boy around, maybe even longer if he decides to stay here permanently. I just pray he didn't act like this all the time.
A/N Please feel free to leave any comments or suggestions of anything that you might want to happen next. Again, I do not take ANY credit for the use of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story The Adventure of the Speckled Band in this chapter. Feel free to look it up if you want to read the full story of it. It's really interesting.