Newsies and Orphans

1

Manhattan New York, 1899

"Hard knock life my ass. You got a roof over your heads, food on the table, and clothes on your back, how hard could it really be?" Elmer asked, walking alongside me. I sighed as I explained for the upteenth time that week,

"The roof over our heads leaks, sometimes we don't eat and the clothes are old, dirty and practically rotting away. Not to mention Miss. Hannigan and her drinking problem. Any money intended for the orphanage goes straight to the liquor cabinet. And at least you choose when to pick a fight, plus you have the entire city to run away. I can't run, and I can't talk back, I just have to sit there and put up with it."

"Alright, alright, how 'bout we's both got it rough. Can you agree to that?"

"That sounds perfectly reasonable. Morning Jack," I say as I finally reach my destination, Elmer smirks before walking off.

"Extra, extra! Mornin' beautiful, care to hear the latest news?" I pull out a dime and hand it to Jack, taking the newspaper he had extended.

"You know it's not me who cares to hear it," I say, before starting to walk away.

"Hey, hey, where's you goin'? You haven' even asked me how my day was yet!" Jack follows me, tucking his stack of papers under an arm.

"El slowed me down so I'm running late, and I still need to pick up Miss. Hannigan's order of gin for this week."

"Well ain't you feisty today. That Annie girl givin' you trouble again?"

"Not her specifically," I mutter. The younger girls back at the orphanage had all managed to piss off our caretaker in one way or another. Molly had thrown up on her prized souvenir satin pillow from Coney Island, Tessie had been caught listening to the radio in the middle of the night, Kate had taken to drawing on the walls and of course Annie had run away again, only brought back last night by a pretty rude cop, who had ruffled Hannigan's feathers. "But it's fine. I'm dealing with it. Now if you don't mind, I'm running late and we both have things to do-"

"I can sell newspapers anywhere. Hey, will you slow down?"

"If you can't keep up, stop followin' me. And you can only sell anywhere in lower Manhattan. You can't do it in Brooklyn, Spot'd kill you, it's his turf," I reason.

"Don' tell me you're heading to Brooklyn!"

"Well-"

"What is the matter with you?" Jack asks, like I was the craziest person alive, grabbing my arm to stop me. "You can't just buy a paper from a Manhattan newsie and then go to Brooklyn, you'll bruise their ego. And when you bruise a Brooklyn newsies ego-"

"They bruise you, I know. And it's not like I have a choice, Hannigan's seller is in Brooklyn. Now will you please stop interrupting me and just let me go about my day?" I pull away and roll my eyes, continuing towards the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Not if your day is going to include a beating from Conlon."

"Oh yes, I'm so afraid of Spot Conlon, the newsie "king" of Brooklyn," I say sarcastically.

"If you're not, you should be."

"Just because every newsie's afraid of him, don' mean every orphan needs to be. And look at that," I gasp, "I'm not a newsie, I'm an orphan."

"Hey, you ain't the only one with no folks."

"Clearly."

"You ain't exactly wearin' your Sunday best either."

"Cause I don' have to go to church for food."

"Least my breakfast isn't mush."

"You're impossible," I huff, rolling my eyes and quickening my pace. Bantering like this happened between us every day, and it never really got me annoyed, but I had so much going through my head this was like an extra step I didn't need.

"Hey, seriously, what is your problem today?" He grabs my arm again, harder this time, and I flinch as his hand clamps around my bruise. Seeing my reaction he immediately pulls up my sleeve to find the cause; A large black and blue bruise just below my shoulder. "Where'd this come from? Hannigan hittin' you?"

"No, no, I just tripped and hit myself against the banister, I'm a clutz, it happens. Besides, it'll be gone in a few days." I quickly bring my sleeve down, and pull away from his grasp. "It's none your business anyway."

"We both know you're a lot of things, but a clutz ain't one of them. And if Hannigan's beatin' on you it's gotta be somebody's business."

"Well she's not. So just leave it, alright?" I was very glad as someone stopped him to buy a newspaper, giving me an opportunity to lose him. "I'll see you tomorrow Jack."

So I know I haven't posted on Mistake Gone Right in a while, but I just haven't had motivation for it. Instead, I present a new piece that I did for my Creative Writing Final! I know it's not done (we only needed four pages so I found a way to just end it there), but it's something I'm trying to actively put effort into for the summer, and I already know most of the plot, so it should be easier. Anyways, enjoy!