Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 27, 2008 8:34:12 GMT -5
"What the hell are you doing to her?"
Racetrack felt a hand on his shoulder pushing him away before he could even turn around to see who had spoken. He tilted to the side and moved himself away, making room for whoever had shoved him away. He could see her profile, and recognized Dancer, a newsie in Manhattan as well as a performer at Irving Hall. She didn't even bother to look at him, as she was making a fuss over Evelyn. Racetrack wanted to explain - he had to admit, to someone passing by, the whole situation didn't look so good. But Dancer seemed preoccupied with Evelyn.
"Evie?"
Race watched as Dancer turned up one of Fabel's eyelids. Race almost asked what the hell she was doing that for, but then refrained. It was apparent that she knew what she was doing better that he did, and she had a better chance of helping Evelyn with whatever needed helping. Race was never really sure what happened to someone when they fainted, or how it could be helped. He decided to keep his mouth shut for a while and let Dancer do whatever she was doing.
"Oh dear."
Now that didn't sound good. Race looked over to her, shifting himself to he could see what was going on. Dancer picked up Evelyn's wrist for some reason, something that he had seen doctors do sometimes. For a second he worried that Evelyn might be dead, but then didn't think so as much. He could hazard a guess that Dancer's reaction might have been different if that was the case. She must have been alive, but of course, not too well.
"What did you do to her?!"
Dancer rounded on him. Race jumped at the sound of her yell. "Me?" he said defensively. "I didn't do anythin'! We was walkin', just to the hospital in Harlem, and she just fell!" Racetrack's medical knowledge was limited, to say the least. He knew that Fabel had fainted, but he couldn't say from what. At risk of sounding like an idiot, he wouldn't try to explain it. He would probably be wrong, anyway. "But ya know if she's alright? She's gonna wake up, right?"
"Racetrack?!"
"Yeah! Dancer!" he exclaimed, thankful that Dancer had recognized him and wouldn't freak out on him. He wasn't too worried about girls soaking him - not that he would hit them, but a lot of the time they wouldn't hit him - but the one thing he hated was when they started screaming in a tirade. There was no defense against that. "Look, I didn't do nothin' to her! I was takin' her to the hospital is all!"
"What happened?"
Race sighed. "It's a long story..." he speculated. He began to tell Dancer everything in short, about meeting Evelyn at the tracks and helping her away from a group of fat men who wanted to take her. He described hiding beneath the stands and Evelyn getting her knee cut on broken glass, spending the night in the warehouse and taking her to the hospital today. "As we was walkin', she just kinda fell. I was just tryin' so see if she was breathin'..."
Racetrack felt a hand on his shoulder pushing him away before he could even turn around to see who had spoken. He tilted to the side and moved himself away, making room for whoever had shoved him away. He could see her profile, and recognized Dancer, a newsie in Manhattan as well as a performer at Irving Hall. She didn't even bother to look at him, as she was making a fuss over Evelyn. Racetrack wanted to explain - he had to admit, to someone passing by, the whole situation didn't look so good. But Dancer seemed preoccupied with Evelyn.
"Evie?"
Race watched as Dancer turned up one of Fabel's eyelids. Race almost asked what the hell she was doing that for, but then refrained. It was apparent that she knew what she was doing better that he did, and she had a better chance of helping Evelyn with whatever needed helping. Race was never really sure what happened to someone when they fainted, or how it could be helped. He decided to keep his mouth shut for a while and let Dancer do whatever she was doing.
"Oh dear."
Now that didn't sound good. Race looked over to her, shifting himself to he could see what was going on. Dancer picked up Evelyn's wrist for some reason, something that he had seen doctors do sometimes. For a second he worried that Evelyn might be dead, but then didn't think so as much. He could hazard a guess that Dancer's reaction might have been different if that was the case. She must have been alive, but of course, not too well.
"What did you do to her?!"
Dancer rounded on him. Race jumped at the sound of her yell. "Me?" he said defensively. "I didn't do anythin'! We was walkin', just to the hospital in Harlem, and she just fell!" Racetrack's medical knowledge was limited, to say the least. He knew that Fabel had fainted, but he couldn't say from what. At risk of sounding like an idiot, he wouldn't try to explain it. He would probably be wrong, anyway. "But ya know if she's alright? She's gonna wake up, right?"
"Racetrack?!"
"Yeah! Dancer!" he exclaimed, thankful that Dancer had recognized him and wouldn't freak out on him. He wasn't too worried about girls soaking him - not that he would hit them, but a lot of the time they wouldn't hit him - but the one thing he hated was when they started screaming in a tirade. There was no defense against that. "Look, I didn't do nothin' to her! I was takin' her to the hospital is all!"
"What happened?"
Race sighed. "It's a long story..." he speculated. He began to tell Dancer everything in short, about meeting Evelyn at the tracks and helping her away from a group of fat men who wanted to take her. He described hiding beneath the stands and Evelyn getting her knee cut on broken glass, spending the night in the warehouse and taking her to the hospital today. "As we was walkin', she just kinda fell. I was just tryin' so see if she was breathin'..."
