|
|
Post by Dreamer on Mar 13, 2008 17:11:46 GMT -5
Dreamer didn't look convinced.
"I don't know..." she said cautiously. "What happens if they're not one of those suckers born every minute, and they know you're lying? Even if you are acting like it was an accident?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Anthony Higgins on Mar 15, 2008 8:41:46 GMT -5
"What happens if they're not one of those suckers born every minute, and they know you're lying? Even if you are acting like it was an accident?"
Racetrack shook his head. He sort of understood where she was coming from. All newsies had a fear of getting caught for making up a headline. Some could charm their way out of it. Others were young and cute enough to get away with it. But most of them could just run fast enough to beat the bulls. He sighed, and spread his hands in a shrug. "It's a chance you gotta take. Bein' a newsie means not always playin' it safe." He paused. "It's about time somebody told you that, Dreamer..."
Carry the banner, sell the papers. That was what a newsie lived to do. The only money in their pockets came from how loud and well they hawked the headlines, how many people they could attract in a day. Leftover papers were never good. You were looking at your cash, turned into something that was maybe read once and then thrown in the trash. Sometimes the headlines weren't good...people didn't always want to read about charity events and good deeds. They needed a scandal, something that they could gossip about to their lady friends or discuss in a cigar room. You had to deliver what they wanted so you could get what you wanted. And sometimes the cost was high.
Racetrack realized he had been zoning out a little nad turned sharply back to Dreamer. "Hmm...well, unless you can charm your way outta it...or someone thinks you're adorable or somethin'...you just gotta run. Can ya do that, ya think? Outrun a copper?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Dreamer on Mar 16, 2008 21:11:51 GMT -5
"It's a chance you gotta take. Bein' a newsie means not always playin' it safe." He paused. "It's about time somebody told you that, Dreamer..."
Dreamer kind of figured that snce she started in Manhatten. But Racetrack didn't know her well enough to know that she was actually a "play-it-safe" kind of girl. That was only because whenever she didn't, she would land into trouble. So, she believed that if she wanted something, she'd have to work hard, the right way, to get it. And if she didn't, she would have to deal with it.
"Hmm...well, unless you can charm your way outta it...or someone thinks you're adorable or somethin'...you just gotta run. Can ya do that, ya think? Outrun a copper?"
"Not really," Dreamer replied. "The last time I tried to outrun a cop, it was for stealing an apple. Usually, I'm not a fast runner, and I was pretty slow when I stole that apple from the Market Place. I didn't eat much a couple of days before...Foster got me out of trouble. Helped me outrun the copper,"
|
|
|
|
Post by Anthony Higgins on Mar 18, 2008 15:00:59 GMT -5
"I didn't eat much a couple of days before...Foster got me out of trouble. Helped me outrun the copper."
Racetrack nodded. From what he could gather, Foster was a pretty okay fella. But the fact that Dreamer couldn't run too fast meant trouble for her. "You gotta be able to run," he stressed. "If you don't lie, you don't sell papes. If you lie, you gotta run. Math-matically speakin','' he always tried to sound smarter than he was, "To sell papes...you gotta be able to run."
|
|
|
|
Post by Dreamer on Mar 18, 2008 21:12:23 GMT -5
"You gotta be able to run," he stressed. "If you don't lie, you don't sell papes. If you lie, you gotta run. Math-matically speakin',''
Dreamer furrowed her eyebrows, a bit puzzled.
"What does math have to do with selling papes?" she asked. "Besides the pay, anyway,"
"To sell papes...you gotta be able to run."
"I can run...I just don't like getting into trouble with cops,"
|
|
|
|
Post by Anthony Higgins on Mar 29, 2008 19:16:35 GMT -5
"What does math have to do with selling papes? Besides the pay, anyway,"
He rolled his eyes. "Math ain't always got stuff with numbers, kid. There's all different stuff. I ain't gonna give you a lesson, considering my teacher was an old coot and he didn't teach me nothin' I didn't already know." He didn't much like talking about his days in the schoolroom when his grandmother made him go, especially since the memories usually consisted of a wooden paddle and his rear end.
But enough about math.
"I can run...I just don't like getting into trouble with cops,"
Boy, this kid had to loosen up. Race had seen kids like her before. They were new blood when it came to being a newsie, and they didn't like to get into any trouble. They had to learn that as long as they kept their nose clean for the most part, nobody was going to say anything. "The coppers don't bother you none if you'se don't bother them. Soak another street rat, they don't say nothin'. Soak some other fella, they're on your tail faster than you can say Whoops. So you gotta learn...ain't nobody's around to tell you what to do anymore."
|
|
|
|
Post by Dreamer on Mar 30, 2008 12:33:41 GMT -5
"The coppers don't bother you none if you'se don't bother them. Soak another street rat, they don't say nothin'. Soak some other fella, they're on your tail faster than you can say Whoops. So you gotta learn...ain't nobody's around to tell you what to do anymore."
Dreamer kind of thought about it, and was still a bit indifferent. She really didn't even know what Racetrack meant by "Soak another street rat", but she decided not to ask since it probably meant something violent.
When Racetrack mentioned that there "ain't nobody's around to tell you what to do anymore", she said:
"Well," she said softly. "Isn't that what you're kind of doing right now? Telling me what to do in order to get a penny for a newspaper?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Anthony Higgins on Mar 31, 2008 19:18:52 GMT -5
"Isn't that what you're kind of doing right now? Telling me what to do in order to get a penny for a newspaper?"
Racetrack rolled his eyes. Either she was being smart, or she was more clueless than he had first thought. "That ain't what I mean!" he said exasperadly. "What I mean is...people can tell ya what to do in order to...anything. But if someone says go to bed or change your chothes or stop that...you don't gotta listen. Ya get me?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Dreamer on Apr 3, 2008 22:01:54 GMT -5
"That ain't what I mean!"
"Oh," Dreamer said. "I know that's not what you mean. I was trying to make a point here,"
"What I mean is...people can tell ya what to do in order to...anything. But if someone says go to bed or change your chothes or stop that...you don't gotta listen. Ya get me?"
"Yeah, I do," Dreamer said. "...Actually, I've known that for a while. I didn't take orders from anybody unless it was a life-and-death situation,"
|
|
|
|
Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 5, 2008 21:37:50 GMT -5
"...Actually, I've known that for a while. I didn't take orders from anybody unless it was a life-and-death situation."
Racetrack spread his hands. "Then you're halfway there, kid," he said with a grin. "A'right, a'right...now where was I?" He had gone off on a tangent and had almost forgotten the main point of why he wasn't selling his papes right now. "Okay, lying. Point is, ya gotta do it. If ya don't, your papes don't get sold. Bottom line." He shifted his stack of papers under his arm. Boy, did he have to sell them. And his time was being wasted a little. He didn't have anything against Dreamer, but really...
Finally he got antsy and blurted out, "Listen, kid. I don't usually do this for nobody, but you need someone to show you the ropes and I need to get my papes sold. So for today you're my sellin' partner. As long as you observe and keep your mouth shut about the headlines I'll be hawkin', you'll be peachy. You dig?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Dreamer on Apr 6, 2008 0:23:35 GMT -5
"Listen, kid. I don't usually do this for nobody, but you need someone to show you the ropes and I need to get my papes sold. So for today you're my sellin' partner. As long as you observe and keep your mouth shut about the headlines I'll be hawkin', you'll be peachy. You dig?"
Dreamer nodded furiously.
"Yeah," she said softly. "I dig,"
But then she thought of something. She had to get money to eat too. So what was she going to sell to get that money?
"Hey wait a minute," her eyes darkened a bit. "Where would me standing around and you shouting out the headlines get me? I don't know about you, but I think my stomach would appreciate it later if I was given at least one meal after a day of trying to sell papers,"
|
|
|
|
Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 16, 2008 15:58:06 GMT -5
"I don't know about you, but I think my stomach would appreciate it later if I was given at least one meal after a day of trying to sell papers."
Racetrack rolled his eyes. This kid had a lot to learn. "Yeah," he said sarcastically. "Cause all you'se gonna do all day is watch me sell papes. Quality entertainment, tell ya right now. Whassa matter with you, eh? You ain't just gonna watch me all day! You gonna sell, too, just see how I do it real quick. See how a real newsboy does things..."
He scanned the harbor quickly and spotted an overturned crate. "Perfect. C'mere, Dreamer, watch a master at work." He loped over to the crate and stood on top of it. With his papers securely under his arm he yelled, "Orphanage Robbed By Local Banker! Read all about it!" He hawked that a few times until he got two women to by a paper each.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dreamer on Apr 17, 2008 12:21:23 GMT -5
"Yeah," he said sarcastically. "Cause all you'se gonna do all day is watch me sell papes. Quality entertainment, tell ya right now. Whassa matter with you, eh? You ain't just gonna watch me all day! You gonna sell, too, just see how I do it real quick. See how a real newsboy does things..."
"Jeez," Dreamer said annoyed. "Excuse me for not understanding what you meant,"
Shaking her head, Dreamer shifted the wight of newspapers under her arm and looked around the harbor really quick with Racetrack. There was a decent number of people to be customers...
...Most of them would probably go to Racetrack...
"Perfect. C'mere, Dreamer, watch a master at work."
Mentally rolling her eyes, Dreamer slacked behind Racetrack to a wooden crate. When he started yelling out a fake headline, Dreamer plugged her ears, and shut her eyes. Man! Could this guy yell any louder?
But her eyes became astonished when she saw two women buying a newspaper each after a few minutes of hearing the fake headline from Racetrack.
Her heart fell, and soon became quiet, her expression a little sad and down.
"I'm not cut out for this..."she mummbled under her breath.
|
|
|
|
Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 18, 2008 17:22:57 GMT -5
"Excuse me for not understanding what you meant."
Racetrack chuckled a little. With a shrug he said unsympathetically, "Didn't I tell ya I'm a wiseass? Maybe I didn't. But I'll tell ya know, I can be a cruel kid sometimes. You just gotta grin and bear it, cause I mean what I say all the time, but a lot of the time I don't say what I mean. Ya get me?" Racetrack had trouble getting along with new people, mostly because he always had something smart and usually insulting to dish out. He was never intentionally cruel;it just came along naturally. And once you were a friend - well, he admitted, it didn't stop there, but once you were a friend you were used to it enough that it didn't bother you.
After Racetrack sold to the two women, he glanced at Dreamer with a triumphant look on his face. He was about to engage in a little subtle bragging before he saw the expression that passed over her face. It looked like he'd just crushed her hopes and dreams or something. He didn't feel sorry for her; that wasn't in his character. But he made a mental note to put the gloating off for later. She sat down and sighed, "I'm not cut out for this..."
"Not cut out for it?" he said, jumping down beside her. "Naw. See, you don't start off being good. That's why someone's gotta teach ya. Ain't nobody comes outta the womb and they can sell papes. You got what it takes. Ya just gotta change yourself a little for this kinda job." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Honesty, shyness, shame...those kinda things are good to have if you got a normal life. But once you become a newsie, you gotta get rid of all that. Cause it ain't about surviving there." He pointed to the buildings of upper Manhattan in the distance. "It's about surviving here."
|
|
|
|
Post by Dreamer on Apr 18, 2008 21:14:32 GMT -5
"Naw. See, you don't start off being good. That's why someone's gotta teach ya. Ain't nobody comes outta the womb and they can sell papes. You got what it takes. Ya just gotta change yourself a little for this kinda job." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Honesty, shyness, shame...those kinda things are good to have if you got a normal life. But once you become a newsie, you gotta get rid of all that. Cause it ain't about surviving there." He pointed to the buildings of upper Manhattan in the distance. "It's about surviving here."
Racetrack didn't understand Dreamer's past. She shook her head.
"If things were different," she started. "I could probably start off selling papers good. But it's because of what happened in my life that the honesty, shyness, and shame is who I am right now...And it's hard to give up who you are, Racetrack. If you knew what happened, then you'd see why I act the way I do,"
|
|
