The Rose of Manhattan

A Small Life In A Big City

Rose's POV

I sighed as I carried the basket of dirty rags up the several flights of stairs. I gasped when my foot got caught on the top stair causing me to fall face first. "Damn it," I mumbled as I started  to pick up the rags.

"Here." I gasped when a boy my age knelt down and started picking up the rags.

When we had put them all back in the basket I stood up and lifted the heavy basket. I tried to object when the boy took the basket out of my hands, but he just laughed. "A fella like me can't let a lady like yourself carry such a heavy basket," he winked before turning around and heading up the stairs. As I followed him, I instantly recognized him as a Newsboy.

"Thank you," I bit my lip to stop from smiling. I opened the door for him and he winked as he passed me. "You can just set it next to the other ones."

"Wow," he laughed. "This is a lot of laundry. And yet, the boy's clothes are filthy." I looked at my shoes, avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah well," I cleared my throat trying to stop the tears.

"Oh," he sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean. . . It's just. . ." He tried to put his hand on my shoulder, but I brushed past him.

"It's fine," I sighed. "I know I should be washing their clothes, but. . . Snyder won't let me. Every time I go to get their clothes, him or one of his little spys stops me."

"Wait, what do you mean they stop you?" He walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. I gasped when he happened to put his hand right over the bruise Snyder gave me this morning. His eyes narrowed when he saw me biting back tears.

Before he could said anything, I walked back to the washer and dryer and continued sorting through the laundry. I bit my lip, hoping the boy would just drop it.

He didn't.

"Miss? What exactly are those guys doin' to ya?"

"Nothing," I said softly.

"Yeah right," he sighed. I gasped when he reached over and took the blanket out of my hands. He put it in the laundry basket, took my hands in his and turned me to face him.

I looked down at our hands, avoiding eye contact. "You have paint on your hands," I whispered.

"Yeah," he laughed. "That's what happens when yous spend all your free time, paintin'. Back to the matter at hand, what do those boys do to ya?"

"Well. . ."

"Kelly!" As soon as I heard his voice, my hands started to shake. The boy Snyder referred to as 'Kelly' instantly noticed. Before the door opened, the boy positioned himself between me and the door.

"Rose!" I jumped when the door swung open. "Have you seen that rat. . . Kelly!"

"Afternoon, Snyder." 'Kelly' smirked.

"What are you doing here? Bothering my. . . The laundry girl. . ." He sneered looking me up and down like I was somehow behind this.

"Well, this poor girl was carrying her weight in dirty rags and was about to fall. So, I stepped up and helped her. We all know you would never help her." My heart stopped as his tone was playful but purposely disrespectful.

Who does this boy think he is and why does he think he can talk to Snyder like this? Isn't he afraid of what he will do to him? 

"Besides, what is her purpose here? I mean she could help the fellas out, but she doesn't. Is she your personal slave?" I looked over at the boy, pleading for him to stop talking. 

"That is none of your concern, Kelly." Snyder said through gritted teeth. The way Snyder was looking at him made me want to run and hide in a hole. I looked at Kelly to see him with a playful smile on his face. "Well," Snyder said loudly clearing his throat. "We should let her get back to work. So, Mr.Kelly if you wouldn't mind. . . Get. Out."

The boy gave him a mock solute before turning towards me and sending me a wink. I couldn't help but blush as he turned to leave. The smile fell from my lips as I turned my attention back to Mr. Snyder.

"Sir?" I said softly as I avoided his glaring gaze.

"Get back to work, Rose."

"Yes, sir." I nodded as I started the laundry. As I put some towels and blankets in the wash all I could do was think about that boy. The boy Snyder despised. The boy who helped me carry my laundry basket up the stairs. The boy who, without hesitation, put himself between Snyder and I.  The boy who I only know him as "Kelly".