Phony Headlines in The Harbor (Dreamer)

[Anthony Higgins]

"If things were different, I could probably start off selling papers good."

Racetrack shrugged, knowing what she meant. He knew that most newsies had something bad happen to them in the past, he was no exception, and it often shaped how they behaved. A lot of the boys he knew had to come out of their shell before they would even talk to anyone. They had to learn to trust the other boys and be a friend when no one else had been a friend to them before.

"Well...ya gotta step out." It was the best advice he could give her without really knowing what had happened. Every newsie had a story to tell, and Dreamer was no exception. He was about to ask what was going on, more accurately, what had happened to her, but then he thought better of it.

"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."

All right. He wasn't about to ask her, but at this point she was practically inviting him to. "Yeah? Ya mind tellin' me what happened, or not? Cause maybe I'm thinkin' I can help ya out a little. I ain't the most sensitive soul...but I can help." Odds were he'd heard a story like hers before. Maybe he could help her sell papes by getting over it.

[Dreamer]

"Well...ya gotta step out."

"I've tried that," Dreamer explained. "But everytime I do, something bad always happens,"

"Yeah? Ya mind tellin' me what happened, or not? Cause maybe I'm thinkin' I can help ya out a little. I ain't the most sensitive soul...but I can help."

The haunting memories of Dreamer's past, before she came to New York to start a new life, played in her head everyday. Not a day went by when she shuts her eyes in sorrow of what happened. She shook her head, giving a small wince.

"No offense Racetrack," she said. "But I don't think there's anything you can do, and tust me: This is one story that you don't want to hear,"

[Anthony Higgins]

"But everytime I do, something bad always happens."

Racetrack threw his hands up in exasperation. "Now why the hell would ya think that?! Look, kid, bad things happen anyway! But they'se gonna keep happening if you go in an' then take yourself back again over and over. Just stick it out! For cryin' out loud..." He shook his head. He hated when people thought misfortune was a direct result of something they did. Misfortune would come anyway, no matter what you do. But if this dame didn't step up soon, she'd be a failure as a newsie.

He refrained from saying this last fact aloud. He had the feeling that some people wouldn't want to hear that just for the fact it was a scary thought. Racetrack himself knew that being a newsboy was what gave him his entire life. He didn't have anyone or anything else to look out for him, so he had to be good at it. And he had to help other people be good at it, too. Some kids didn't have a choice whether or not to earn a living from selling newspapers. But if you couldn't do it right, there was no point to doing it. Still, you had to learn. And the sooner you learned, the sooner you would have at least a half-full belly at night and maybe some dignity to go along with it.

"But I don't think there's anything you can do, and trust me: This is one story that you don't want to hear."

Race shook his head. "I ain't lookin' to do anything, Dreamer. I know there prolly ain't nothin' I can do. But I think I've heard the worst there is out there, and yours won't be any worse than that. Plus...well, ya know, sometimes it gets better if someone else knows. That way you ain't alone feelin' sorry for yourself..."

[Dreamer]

"I ain't lookin' to do anything, Dreamer. I know there prolly ain't nothin' I can do. But I think I've heard the worst there is out there, and yours won't be any worse than that. Plus...well, ya know, sometimes it gets better if someone else knows. That way you ain't alone feelin' sorry for yourself..."

Dreamer shook her head.

"...Maybe some other time Race," she said. "I really don't feel like bringing up the past right now. Besides...my story--it's probably the worst you'll ever hear...What about you? Who taught you how to sell papers as good as you do today?"

[Anthony Higgins]

"...Maybe some other time Race. I really don't feel like bringing up the past right now."

Race shrugged and decided not to pursue the information any further. Not many of the newsies he knew had good stories to tell, anyway. You don't end up selling papers on the street for pennies every because life had treated you good. It sometimes amazed him, the small scope of stories that he heard the others tell. It was always a fire, the death of their parents, abuse, abandonment, or something else. Overall, there were only a few things that could happen to you, that you showed up in New York City, hawking headlines and worrying about making money when they were just kids.

"Besides...my story--it's probably the worst you'll ever hear..."

Privately, he doubted that. Some of the boys, his close friends, had stories of murder, abuse of all kinds, fires and anything else that could scar someone beyond healing. Every story he heard was bad, and something told him that Dreamer only thought her story was the worst, because it had happened to her. Everyone had a bad story, otherwise they wouldn't be here. But he decided to say nothing. This was a touchy subject, and he knew when to not upset it.

"What about you? Who taught you how to sell papers as good as you do today?"

Race shifted, recalled for a moment, and wet his lips. "I watched, a lot of the time. I was pretty young when I got to be a newsboy. So I just watched some of the older boys sell and copied what they did. After a while I didn't need to copy 'em anymore. An' then I realized I could do it better if I did this, or didn't do that. People teach you, Dreamer. But you learn by yourself. That's all ya gotta do."

[Dreamer]

"I watched, a lot of the time. I was pretty young when I got to be a newsboy. So I just watched some of the older boys sell and copied what they did. After a while I didn't need to copy 'em anymore. An' then I realized I could do it better if I did this, or didn't do that. People teach you, Dreamer. But you learn by yourself. That's all ya gotta do."

Dreamer didn't find it surprising that Racetrack started young. Everyday, she would see at least one kid who looked like he was six years old, maybe even younger, selling papers at a street corner. Some of the older kids would stand by a half a block away though, making sure that they didn't get themselves into too much trouble of course. Dreamer thought to herself that maybe she watched the little kids more than selling her papers. And if she did sell papers, she usually spent it on food for the little kids when they didn't have a good day of selling, which was really rare for little kids. Younger kids sell better. And Dreamer was 17. One of the reasons why she didn't sell papers that well.

But she nodded to herself after Racetrack had finished his small little lecture for her.

"I'll try to remember that," she said holding her papers to her chest as if she were a prim and proper school-girl carrying her books.

After a bit of silence of sinking this bit of advice Racetrack had given her in her head, Dreamer decided that is was time to socialize and try to get to know some of the Manhatten newsies better. So, she figured, why not start with Racetrack? All they've talked about really since the moment they met was how to sell newspapers and not get caught.

"So," she started. "Racetrack...Why do they call you Racetrack?"

[Anthony Higgins]

"I'll try to remember that."

Race nodded. It was always good when someone appeared to be taking his advice. It made him feel at least a little important, and although he always thought what he said was probably the best thing to do, it wasn't always what people chose to do. People could be stubborn sometimes. "Good thing, too," he said to Dreamer. "The more ya remember, the better you'll be."

"So, Racetrack...Why do they call you Racetrack?"

Racetrack laughed a little. "Well...there's the epic version of that story, and then there's the kid's book version." He squinted up at the clock tower situated near the harbor. "In the interest of time, I'll give ya somethin' in between." He didn't so much mind talking about his past, as he knew some people (including Dreamer) did. The way he saw it, he had nothing to hide.

"I joined up with the newsies when I was about nine and my grandmother died. About three years later, I was twelve, and then one of the newsboys I was with, named Johnny...he had just got back from the Sheepshead Bay Racetrack. And he was tellin' everyone about what he did and how he did it...well, I was interested. I wanted to head over there, but he wouldn't take me for a while. And then a few days later, some of the kids were playing poker and I got involved...eh, but that's another story.

"Anyways, I finally when to the Sheepshead Bay Races, and I bet eight cents on my first horse. After that, I was hooked. I went back every day, gambling away all my pennies and losing more than I gained. Boy, I was lousy at first...anyway. The fellas started calling me Racetrack. And it stuck..." He turned to her and decided, in the interest of conversation, to ask her about her. "An' why d'they call ya Dreamer?"

[Dreamer]

Dreamer listened to Racetrack's story, feeling a bit sad about how his grandmother died when he was still young, but found the rest of the story quite interesting on how he got his nickname.

"An' why d'they call ya Dreamer?"

Dreamer shrugged a bit, smiling sheepishly.

"There was no 'they', it was just me," she explained. "I gave myself the name Dreamer. See, my papa always said that I always had this dreamy look in my eyes. Whenever he said that, it was right after he got me out of one of my day-dreams in order to get me back to work on the horses. He never criticized me of it. He actually kind of teased me with it and praised me with it. He said that look was responsible for him falling for my mother. Told me to never lose that look, and I guess I decided to call myself Dreamer...just to maybe help out with some things, you know,"