Mid-July 1894
On many places in Manhattan, which is still in New York City (surprising, I know.)
And... still Jack P.O.V
"When I say run, ya run, understood?"
I sit beside Magpie on da floor. She looks at me. "Did ya understand dat?", she asks once again.
"Do people usually do what ya tell 'em, Mags?"
"No, but ya will. Ya must!"
I sigh. "Okay. An' den?"
"Den ya hide in his carriage and ya free."
"Wait, wait, wait. What's 'bout ya?"
"I'll come wit ya."
"But ya jus' said-"
"It ain't matter what I's jus' said."
"Ya confusin'."
"I know.", she says and turns away, upset.
"Then why are ya upset."
"I's not."
I roll my eyes. "Whatever ya say."
"Oh." She spins around ta me again. "There's another thin'. In case we'se separated, go ta da park. One of my magpies will be waitin' there foa ya. And remember: One time's yes and two time's no. Don't forget dat. Dat's very important."
"What do ya mean by-" I ain't got further. Snyda comes in shoutin' at us ta get in line.
Today we've got a prominent visitor. Teddy Roosevelt himself.
We get in line an', unfortunately, also separated. He leaves, leavin' da door open.
Then I hear Mags shoutin': "Run!"... and I run. I run and hide in da carriage, like she said... but she doesn't come. I carefully look back ta da door, but den da carriage suddenly jumps and begins ta roll. 'Shit!', I curse silently. 'Where da hell is dat damn goil?' But I don't get an answer. So, I sit there, worryin', waitin'.
And den I hit da park.
Quietly I exit da carriage and head into da park, where I sit under a tree.
What shall I do now? Mags won't come. Where should I go?
But before I can drown myself in self-pity, a magpie lands on my knee. I look at it surprised, but only for a second. Only 'till I remember Mags words about da magpie in da park.
"Is ya one of Mags'?", I ask da bird.
What is I doin'? I's talkin' ta a bird. A bird! I must be insane.
But da magpie on my knee moves its wings a little and only one time. An' suddenly everything's clear. Well, not everything, obviously, but some things make sense now.
"One time's yes", I remember Mags words. "And two time's no. Don't forget dat!"
Da bird opens its wings an' flies of. Confused I watch it flyin' away. It comes back two seconds later, an' pulls my shirt.
"Is I supposed ta follow ya?", I ask. Da magpie doesn't answer an' just takes off again. Dis time I follow.
Ten very exhausting (runnin') minutes an' five small alleyways later, I reach a big old buildin'.
Da bird disappears through an open window inside.
I stand there, unsure, what ta do.
Den I take a deep breath, climb up da two stair steps an' knock.
No answer.
Carefully I push da door knock an' open da door.
I's standin' in a kind of hall. A very small kind of hall. It looks like da lobbies in one of these hotels, but a lot shabbier. A staircase is leadin' up in a corner and next ta it is a kind of counter. Behind it an old man's sleepin', wit' his feet restin' on da desk an' his chin on his chest.
Da magpie lands on his knee an'... well, makes a noise. A magpie noise, apparently.
Da man wakes up and looks at it wit' sleep in his eyes.
"Belle?", he asks. "What are you doin' here? Is she back?" He looks at da door an' so also at me, while I's still standin' there. "Who the hell are you?"
"Um...", I say. "Um... I's Jack, sir. Jack Kelly. A goil named Magpie send me here."
"Mags? Where is she? Is she alright?"
"Well", I begin. "She was, when I last saw her... but I's not so sure about her now."
"Why? Where is she?"
"In da Refuge."
"The Refuge?"
"Yes."
"So, you were there too?"
"Yes..."
"Then how comes you're here now?"
"She helped me ta escape."
"Really? She did?"
"Um, I think so."
"You think so?"
"Well, she shouted at me ta run, so... yeah."
"And she's still in da Refuge?"
"I think so. She didn't come after me. So, I think Snyda got her."
"Damn this man.", da old man behind da desk mutters. „And she sent you here?"
"Well, she yelled run and I ran. Her magpie brought me here." I point at da magpie on da desk. "Can ya tell me where I is?"
"You're at the Newsboys Lodge House of Manhattan, boy."
"Da Newsies Lodge?"
"Yes. Maybe she wanted you ta become a Newsie like herself."
Dat might be true. Magpie had told him, she had been a Newsie, before dey got her.
Somewhere upstairs I hear a door open an' close. Somebody's comin' down da stairs.
A boy around my age appears.
"Mr. Kloppman.", he says. "Who's...?" He stops as he sees me. "Who's ya?", he asks.
"I's Jack.", I say once again. "Jack Kelly."
Da magpie, Belle, flies over ta him an' lands on da boys head.
"Belle? What's ya doin' here?", he says. "Is she back?"
"No.", Mr. Kloppman an' I answer unison.
"Then how...?"
"Belle brought Jack. Mags send him.", da old man explains.
"She did?"
"Yes.", I confirm.
"Well then. I's Racetrack Higgins. But Race's fine." He holds his hand out for me ta shake an' I take it.
"Ya a Newsie?", he asks.
"Not yet."
"Then come, there's much ta learn."