𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 - A Davey Jacobs Story

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

People and fabric swarmed around her. Her breathing was labored as she tried pushing through the crowd. A six-year-old had no chance of pushing through the crowded streets of New York City alone. "Mama! Papa!" She cried but it was no use. They had been lost to the crowd and she couldn't find her way back to them. Everything was overwhelming. Coming closer and closer-

Juliet woke up in a cold sweat, shivering as she relived the memory. That had been nearly a week ago and her parents still hadn't come back for her. If they wanted to find her, they would have already. She was beginning to fear that she'd be on her own. Forever.

Despite the fear, she still clung to the hope she'd find her parents. With that thought, she got up from her spot on the concrete of a small alley and started her search. 

She wandered through the streets of Manhattan just as she had for the past week. Important looking men in sharp suits rushed past her. Women in frilly dresses walked along clutching their change purses. Children walked along with their parents. Juliet looked longingly at the sight, wondering what her parents were doing now without her.

Suddenly, she hit something and fell backwards. She rubbed the spot where she landed and dusted herself off. It wasn't a hard fall, but she had no doubt whoever she ran into wouldn't be too happy with her. However, when she looked up, she saw a cheery young boy about the same age as she was.

"I'm so sorry!" She squeaked, rushing over to help him up. "I wasn't paying attention."

"No harm done. Can ya hand me that?" The boy asked pointing to his old wooden crutch that rested a few feet away from him due to the impact.

Juliet nodded and handed him the crutch before trying to collect the newspapers that had fallen out of his bag. She had never seen one person with so many papers.

"Why do you have so many newspapers?"

"Ise a newsie," the boy explained proudly.

Juliet tilted her head. "A newsie?"

"Yup! Wese the ones that sell the papes! It's how us orphans survive.

At least they have a way to survive, Juliet thought to herself. If this boy was a newsie and fending for himself on the streets of New York, what's to say she couldn't do the same?

"Can anyone be a newsie?"

"Yeah! Wese is always looking for new newsies. Why? Is ya interested?" He asked excitedly.

She nodded helplessly as she put the papers into his bag. "Yeah, I'm interested."

"Well, why don't I take ya back to the lodging house? Wese can get you all settled. And I can introduce ya to my best friend, Jack!" When Juliet nodded her consent, the boy began leading her through the streets in the direction of the Newsboy lodging house. He limped along as Juliet silently walked beside him, both of them keeping their eyes on the sidewalk.

"Why are your shoes untied?" The boy asked, tilting his head, looking down at the ends of her frayed shoelaces that dragged along on the ground.

The young girl frowned and crossed her arms across her chest. "I never learned how to tie them," she admitted quietly.

"I'll teach ya how ta tie ya laces," the boy said before his eyes lit up. "Hey! That's what we'll call you! Laces!"

"But why? I got a perfectly good name already."

"Every newsie has a nickname. Mine's Crutchie," the boy explained as he gestured to the crutch that supported most of his weight. 

Juliet mulled over the nickname. Maybe a new name—a new identity—could help her move on from her past. "Nice to meet you, Crutchie. I guess I'm Laces."