A girl is given a diary that explains her Grandmother's unique past. Contest Entry |
Contest Entry: Newsboys (and girls) Short Story Contest Author: Tabitha Lauren Word Count: 1, 688 HEADLINES AND BASEBALLS Note: This story is set in Queens, New York. 1965 "Hi Grandpa!" I closed the screen door behind me and shut it tight, so that the bugs would not get in. It was too hot to shut the door all the way. Sweat trickled down my cheek as I poured a glass of milk from Grandma's old glass pitcher. Drinking it in one gulp, I waited to hear footsteps from Grandpa's bedroom, but they didn't come. I waited and waited for the familiar sound I heard everyday when I got home from school, but nothing happened. My single Mother had died in childbirth, and my Grandmother had passed away 8 years later. Since then it had just been Grandpa and me, and my biggest fear was that he would get hurt while I was at school one day. He wasn't getting any younger, I knew. "Libby?" I jumped back two feet. There he stood in the wooden dorway, and he wasn't hurt. My hand flew to my heart, where I could feel my pulse running at a million miles an hour. "You're home early, sweetie. I'm sorry." "Holy cow Gramps, where in the world were you?" I screeched breathlessly. He chuckled. "Just up in the attic, Libby, going through some old things. I missed your Grandmother today, and wanted to see what I could find of hers up there." "I miss her too grandpa." I said. Only then did I notice that he was holding a really old book. He stroked the tattred front cover lovingly, and handed it to me. "This was your Grandmother's journal when she was almost exactly your age. I don't think you know much about her childhood, and she was a pretty remarkable kid. I think you should read it." He smiled and I smiled back. My curiosity was peaked, and I wondered what he meant by "remarkable kid". After dinner that night, when Grandpa was sitting on the living room couch, watching "The Dick Van Dyke Show" on our old T.V. set, I sat on the back porch swing and opened up my Grandma's journal. "July 12, 1895" It said at the top. The handwriting was horrific, so bad that I could barely make out the script at all. But I decided to plunge on. "Today was really hot. It seems that I'm finally gettin' settled in the lodge, an' I don't think nobody knows yet. My pops woulda' been proud. I made myself 1 whole dolla' today, and I was so excited, seein' as that might get little Josie some shoes with no holes in 'em to wear around. I am scared to write my secret, even in here, in case one of the rowdy boys gets a hold of you. But I think I will anyways, seein' as how Pappa was convinced that I should right in a book for rememberance sake. So here it is. 3 months ago, my family was starving, living in a little shack down by Willis street. I got two little sisters and not a single brother to speak of, and my Daddy died of phnuemonia. So i cut off my pretty golden hair, and became a newsboy. I have to live down here, far from home in a newboys lodgin' house, going home only on the weekends to return my pay so my Mamma can support the girls. As for me, it's a struggle to not let the boys I'm around every day know who I am. And it's hard. Why, just this very day Tommy asked me why it was that I refused to go skinny dippin' down in the old park crick. I'm always afraid someone will find out my secret and put me outta work, even worse, I'm afraid of someone findin' you, journal. I could get in heeps-a trouble. But I gots' ta tell ya, I sorta enjoy "caryin' the banner". Why, through me folks can figure out stuff goin' on in this durned country. Stuff's confusin', and I sell em' the stuff to help em' understand. I'm like one-a them angels sent from heaven to deliver messages, I figure. and I kinda like it. Mamma says she's proud and that I am a good brave girl and that my daddy woulda been proud of me. And so I go on, day by day, carryin' the papes. July 14, 1895 Today was a Friday, and I had to head for home. I paid the train ticket and took a nap while we bumped along. I couldn't help but be exicted to see my family. When I got to Willis Street, I hurried up the steps to the old shack and thrust open the door. "Mamma I'm-a come home!" I shouted. I heard little footsteps comin' from the hallway, and out came little Josie, tears runnin' down her cheeks. "Anne has just died, Lizzy, she got sick and Mamma couldn't pay for the doctor."My heart started and I felt my knees buckled under. Josie wrapped her arms around my waist and her tears were makin' my trouser wet. I hurried down the hallway, Josie in tow. And there was Mamma, on her knees next to the bed where little Anne lay. She was only in her 6th year. Mamma was sobbin', her arm around her face. "Mamma." I whispered softly. "Mamma I'm here." She only nodded her head. "She got sick, Lizzy." She whispered. "I couldn't pay up, and I couldn't do anything. I don't know what to do now." I stooped down next to my Mamma, putting my arms around her. We cried together, the 3 of us girls, for more than an hour. I didn't feel the pride I normally feel when I handed Mamma my 3 dolla' pay. It hadn't been enough to save Anne. July 17 1895 When I returned home the day after Anne died I was stuck in my grief. The boys kept-a askin' me what was the matta', and all I could do was leave so they wouldn't see me cry like a girl. When I went to buy my pape's this morning I almost broke down to part with my money, afraid I wouldn't be able to earn enough in time. This week is my last one on the job, because Josie has caught Anne's fever and she'll die if we don't get a hold of a doctor. Mamma will be sick next, then me. It hurts my heart to think of this. July 21 1895 I'm sittin' on a train writtin' to ya, journal. I had to sneak out of the lodge today, out a' fear. For that same Tommy came up to me while I was carryin the banner today. He held up you, journal, and told me he knew my secret. He said he wouldn't tell nobodys, but I'm not sure I believe him. So since it was a Friday anyways, I left. I'm on my way home to save my Mamma and Sister, but I know I might find one or the other, or both, dead. I can feel fear in the pitt of my stomache. July 22 1895 When I came into the house yesterday I found the greatest sorrow my heart has ever had to bear. My Mamma and Josie were both lying on cots. I went to Mamma and tried to speak to her, but she was cold as ice, and her pulse was still. I sobbed and fell on the floor. And then I remembered Josie. Going over to the cot she lie on, I felt her fiery skin, and was happy, she was alive. But so feverish I knew she could leave me any moment. I ran down the street like a cougar to get the Doc. I was able to pay, and just this last minute Josie was able to say 'hullo to me. She's going to be okay, says the doc. I don't know where we'll go from here. " I was incredibly frusterated to find that the rest of the pages were torn out. I shut the book and closed my eyes. I could almost see my Grandmother, with dirt on her face, yelling out headlines in a funny Brooklynn accent. I was inspired by her story. I opened the old screen door and sat on the couch next to Grandpa. "Grandpa, it's a cliffhanger. What happened to Grandma and her sister?" Granpa shut off the Television and turned to me. "They both returned to Brooklynn, where they worked as newsboys. 'Cause Grandma always had a love for the work. No one ever found out there secret, for that Tommy boy never did tell. When Grandma turned 18 she bought an apartment with the money she saved up. Josie was only 15, but she was a pretty little thing, so Grandma had her married to a wealthy man who takes care of her to this very day. And your Grandma married me." "How did you meet?" He raised his eyebrows, but didn't speak. And then I remembered. My Grandfathers name was Thomas. And suddenly I knew he was the one in the journal. That would have to be a story for another day. "You're right, Grandpa. You married a remarkable women". He smiled. and put his arm around me, hugging me close. "With her help, I raised a remarkable daughter and then her own remarkable daughter." Now I smiled. "Thanks for the book, Grandpa. Times were pretty hard. I feel guilty that things aren't so hard for me." He laughed. "It's just as hard today. Just different, that's all Libby. When I watch you play on the boys baseball team, and hear you tell stories of how they treat you, you remind me so much of your grandmother.." I was bursting with pride. "Your smile looks just like hers as well. That's why your mother name you after her, Elizabeth." Most of the time I cringed to hear my given name, it sounded far to girly. But I was bursting with pride to be named after someone so brave. I vowed to conquer my challenges just like the newsboys (and newsgirls) of 1895. |