Somewhere Over The Rainbow

[Dreamer]

Stay out of trouble. That's what she had to do. Dreamer had to stay out of trouble for as long as she could before. And Tibby's was a great place to stay out of it.

After selling her last paper (There was a good headline, much to her luck), she rushed past the busy sidewalks of New York to get to the small restaraunt where the Manhatten newsies loved to go eat at. Skidding to a stop after she had entered the crowded area through the ringing door, Dreamer took a minute to catch her breath and walked up to the counter, placing a couple of pennies on the smooth surface.

"Hey," she called to a waitress. "Could I get a coke and a hamburger please?"

The waitress looked over the money content, and looked at Dreamer.

"Ya don't have 'nough for both, kiddo," she said. "It's one or the other..."

Dreamer looked at the pennies she just put on the counter, counting them twice, before she realized that she didn't have enough, true as the waitress has said.

Letting out a small frustrated sigh, Dreamer made a decision.

"Fine," she grumbled. "Just the coke then,"

After the waitress left, Dreamer held her head in one hand while she played with the tarnished silverware left out for customers out of boredom.

Oh yeah. Dreamer was sure living the dream. It was a fine life, it was. A fine life...

((Sorry. All I Got In My Head Right Now))

[rainier]

The streets of New York were getting more familiar, thankfully. Caspar could remember a time where he could scarcely go three blocks without worrying where he was: such a difference from the open and straight streets of Holland! But as time progressed, Caspar found that he was able to find his way in more and more areas, and it wasn't long until he could venture out of Queens and find his way around other places. Like Manhattan, for the place called Tibby's that he had been hearing so much about. The eatery in Queens was a little too expensive, and Caspar only had about two nickels (Diesel, one of the younger Queens newsies, had called them jitneys, and Caspar wondered if he should call them that too) to spend.

As he found the restaurant and walked in, he was pleased to see a woman he knew from one of the tenements nearby the Queens lodging house behind the counter. She was from Holland, he knew, and spoke better English than Caspar could ever hope to. As he approached, she looked up and smiled. He said in greeting, "Ik wist niet dat ik u hier vinden!"

She replied with a grin, "Ja. We hebben allemaal te hebben van een baan, niet?" She added quickly, "Wilt u iets te eten?"

"Turkey," Caspar said, switching to English. He liked having the Dutch come from him naturally, and then going to English, feeling the pride that came with knowing another language. "And a water to drink." The waitress nodded and ducked behind the counter. It was only then that Caspar realized the presence of a girl nearby. She had undoubtedly heard the conversation she could not understand. Immediately, Caspar was embarrassed. "I am sorry," he said. "I did not mean to be rude. I know...to have a conversation in another language...is not polite."

[Dreamer]

Somebody came in and stood by Dreamer at the counter, catching the attention of the waitress Dreamer just spoke to. There was no reason to pay any attention to him, so she just continued tracing her finger along the smooth silver surface on her fork.

"Ik wist niet dat ik u hier vinden!"

This perked up Dreamer's ears, but out of confusion. What the heck?

"Ja. We hebben allemaal te hebben van een baan, niet?"

The boy and the waitress were speaking a foreign language right in front of Dreamer. Fluently! If any of the other newsies were here, they'd look at those two like they were scabbers, but Dreamer watched them with fascination.

"Wilt u iets te eten?"

"Turkey,"

"And a water to drink."

Blinking, Dreamer looked at this boy in front of her, switching from the foreign language he was speaking with the waitress to plain English. It was as if he just flipped a switch from...whatever language he was speaking to a language she understood. Suddenly, she was caught watching him when he noticed her. At first, Dreamer thought he would look at her weird as if he was offended of the fact that she couldn't mind her own business, but instead he smiled.

"I am sorry," he said. "I did not mean to be rude. I know...to have a conversation in another language...is not polite."

"Oh no," Dreamer smiled back. "No, it was--It was lovely to hear.I should be the one apologizing. It's...heh...not polite to stare.Or eavesdrop for that matter. It's just that... I didn't think anybody around here spoke in a different language. It was beautiful. What was it?"

((Sorry for the delay. I had a weekend getaway and I kept getting kicked off the computer. Here ya go!))

[rainier]

"Oh no. No, it was--It was lovely to hear.I should be the one apologizing. It's...heh...not polite to stare. Or eavesdrop for that matter."

Grinning, Caspar shook his head. "You should not think about it; all is fine." He wasn't quite sure about the one word she had used, was it evadrop? Still, apparently it was nothing major, and Caspar would have to ask someone about it later on. He was always trying to learn English better, because those who didn't know him (and thus didn't know his great intellect) would often mistake him for an imbecile because he spoke English with poor grammar and simple words. He couldn't wait for the day he could speak both Dutch and English perfectly, and maybe several other languages: Italian, perhaps, even though with his native tongue being Dutch he knew he would have a hard time learning a Latin-based language; and then maybe even French...

"It's just that... I didn't think anybody around here spoke in a different language. It was beautiful. What was it?"

At that, Caspar had to laugh. He didn't know if it was just where this girl lived that she didn't know people spoke different languages around here. Or perhaps she was using sarcasm? Caspar hated sarcasm; he never understood what was so funny about it. He said to the girl, "Listen while on the street, my friend. You hear so many languages it's sounds like water boiling." That was what he compared the sound to, anyway. "And I am Dutch. That's where my family comes from. My name is Caspar." He added sheepishly, "But my friends call me the Professor, sometimes. Because I am so smart."

[Dreamer]

"You should not think about it; all is fine."

Dreamer kindly smiled.

"Well," she relaxed a bit. "That's good,"

At least Dreamer knew she wasn't making a fool of herself, as per usual.

When the boy laughed at her question of the language, Dreamer had to wonder what was funny. Did she say something that degraded herself or this strange boy?

"Listen while on the street, my friend. You hear so many languages it's sounds like water boiling."

"Really?" asked Dreamer in surprise as her eyes widened.

As the waitress brought her coke, Dreamer thought to herself a bit, thinking about all the things she's seen and heard since she first came to Manhatten. After a bit, she nodded, agreeing with him.

"Wow," she chuckled lightly. "I guess I never noticed. Ha. I should get my head out of the clouds more often, then,"

"And I am Dutch. That's where my family comes from. My name is Caspar."

Dutch! That's what it was! Dreamer held out a hand to shake for the boy.

"Well, then" she smiled warmly. "It's nice to meet you Casper,"

"But my friends call me the Professor, sometimes. Because I am so smart."

For a moment, Dreamer considered just a tiny bit introducing herself by her real name since this boy had done so, but she immedietly pushed the desire out of her mind. How she missed being called by her real name sometimes!

She smiled still, her light-green eyes dancing with kindness.

"People call me Dreamer," she said. "All the time...I dream a lot,"

[rainier]

"I guess I never noticed. Ha. I should get my head out of the clouds more often, then."

Caspar didn't know the meaning of the apparent expression she had used. Head in the clouds? But as usual, he could grasp the meaning of the sentence without having to know what she meant when she said she had her head in the clouds. "Listen next time when you are going to school," he said with a smile. "I have learned English that way, and parts of some other languages." Not only had he picked up some important English words: fruit, yes, no, stop; he had also found that he overheard conversations in other languages, and he was intelligent enough that he could understand what they meant in context.

"It's nice to meet you Casper."

"Caspar," he corrected her gently, emphasizing the end syllable of his name. A lot of Americans pronounced his name the English way, and although it would have made it easier for him in the long run, he wanted to be known by his Dutch name for as long as possible. He knew that his brother Jozef wanted to pronounce his name like Joseph, the American way, but Viona wouldn't allow it. So none of the siblings changed the spelling or pronunciation of their names. But Caspar did wonder, since they had gone their separate ways, how many of them had done just that...

"People call me Dreamer. All the time...I dream a lot."

Caspar nodded. He had heard of people who could dream when they weren't asleep...it was a different kind of dreaming, someone had explained to him. More like you were thinking about many things at once and you were thinking so hard it was almost like being asleep and awake at the same time. Caspar thought he did the same thing when he was reading a book. "Perhaps I am a dreamer, as well," he told the girl. "You too think so much that..." he trailed off. "I am sorry. I cannot think of the English of what I want to say." He called to the waitress, "Hilda...ik wil zeggen, niets anders om je heen lijkt te materie."

The waitress thought. "Nothing else around you seems to matter," she said slowly, so Caspar could listen and pick up the phrase.

"Bedankt." Caspar turned back to Dreamer. "That is what I meant to say. You think so much that--nothing else around you seems to matter." He grinned to himself at his grasp of the phrase.

[Dreamer]

"Listen next time when you are going to school," he said with a smile. "I have learned English that way, and parts of some other languages."

At this comment, Dreamer looked down at her coke a bit, embarassed.

"Actually, um," she chuckled lightly. "...I don't go to school anymore. I haven't been for a while...I'm a newsie,"

Dreamer missed school. She missed learning each day. In fact, she was once the top of her class back in Texas.

Now look at her: Selling newspapers "for a penny a pape".

"Caspar,"

Glancing up, Dreamer realized that she made a mistake about pronouncing the boy's name.

"Goodness," she lightly smiled. "I'm sorry about that,"

"Perhaps I am a dreamer, as well," he told the girl. "You too think so much that..." he trailed off.

"That..." Dreamer tried to help him finish his sentence. "You don't notice the outside world?"

"I am sorry. I cannot think of the English of what I want to say." He called to the waitress, "Hilda...ik wil zeggen, niets anders om je heen lijkt te materie."

The waitress thought. "Nothing else around you seems to matter," she said slowly, so Caspar could listen and pick up the phrase.

"Bedankt." Caspar turned back to Dreamer. "That is what I meant to say. You think so much that--nothing else around you seems to matter."

Dreamer thought about it and, smiling a bit, nodded in agreement.

"Nothing else around you seems to matter," she repeated. "...Yep, that sounds about right,"