So Much For The Afterglow
by Blues Patrick
This is the story of Blues Patrick, the Brooklyn newsie who never cared about anything or anyone, even herself. This is the story of how she changed with the help of just one person. And this is the story of how she lost the only person who ever understood her.
Everybody always seems so willing to tell the story of how they got here, to the Brooklyn Lodging House. And believe me, I’m willing to tell my story, it’s just not worth telling. I was born and raised in Ireland, but when I was 10 my parents took me and the rest of my family to America where we would have “a better life.” My parents and sister Bernadette, Benny for short, who was 5, died on the way over and my brother, Adriane, and I were left to steal in order to survive. He got caught and thrown in jail when he was 17 while I did a short time in the Refuge at age 14. After that, I was set free without a place in all of New York City to go to. I had heard that some girls were joining the ranks of the newsies so I decided to join them as well. That led me to where I am now, in Brooklyn in the Newsgirl’s Lodging House.
And that’s why I found myself on the streets on this rainy day in March. While I truly do love every one of the guys and girls in the Lodging House, it just gets too noisy in there. And I like quiet, peaceful walks through the less-traveled parts of Brooklyn.
I’m not one of those people who always had to be doing something, I don’t mind to take the time and think. I knew I was fifteen with no clue of how my future would be, and I like not knowing. I’ve got a boyfriend, Fingers Portabelli, but it’s nothing serious. I’ve always known in the back of my mind that it’ll end one day, but yet again, I don’t really care.
I got in late that night, so late most everyone was in bed. I grabbed a peach from my trunk at the foot of Shadows’ and my bunk before taking my notebook and heading outside to the fire escape, where it was sheltered from the rain and quiet. It looked like it would be another long night of writing stories in my own little fantasyland. I must have fallen asleep because the next morning I felt someone poke me.
“Yo girl, you alive?” A male voice asked. I opened my eyes and tried to figure out who was talking to me. He was a short boy of about 16 with dark red hair and brown eyes. I think he saw my confusion. “Oh, sorry, I’m Kid Rock from Midtown. And you are?”
“Blues.” I responded as I stretched. “Any reason why a Midtowner like yourself is down in Brooklyn?” I asked.
Kid Rock smirked and nodded, “Yeah, here to see Weezer.”
“Uhhh, Weezer lives in Lower Manhatten…” I stopped before I could make a bigger fool of myself.
“Yeah, but he stayed here last night because of the big poker game.”
“Oh. Right.” I kicked myself mentally. I just had to go ahead and be the moron here, didn’t I? I motioned for Kid Rock to enter through the window, which he did so. Why he didn’t just use the door instead of the fire escape is beyond me. I climbed inside and flopped down on my top bunk.
“Had anudder night spent on writin’?” Shadows asked me. “Mmmhhhmmm,” was my almost inaudible answer. Shadows went back to what she had been doing with no further comment. Even though we were bunkmates and good friends as well, our friendship was based more on silence rather than anything else. That may seem strange, but neither of us were big talkers. I grabbed my newsies hat, shoved my hair underneath it and trailed behind as all of us headed to the Brooklyn distribution center. Someone fell in step with me and I looked up, surprised. It was Kid Rock.
“Hey! Weezer went back Manhatten and it’s too late for me to head back to Midtown to get some papes, so I was wondering if I could sell with since I don’t know my way around Brooklyn.” I nodded and jammed my hands into my pockets, still looking down at the ground as I walked. “Your real name isn’t Blues, is it?” Kid asked suddenly.
“What’s it to ya?” I asked harshly. Kid looked taken aback and I sighed. “Me real name is Eve Patrick. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Oh.” He said before continuing, “Well me real name is Brad McCourt, so now we’re even.” Kid said with a wink. I shrugged and got on line for my papers. I knew I was probably very discouraging for him, but that was just my attitude to everything. I didn’t care much for anything in life, in case that wasn’t obvious.
After I had bought fifty papers and waited for Kid to buy his thirty, we headed out to my spot to sell. Surprisingly, he sold all his papers way before I did. Which left time for talking. This just wasn’t my day.
“So, what’s your story?” Kid asked. I scowled.
“Your basics. Parents died on the way over from Ireland, brother got thrown in jail for stealing soon after, I served some time in the Refuge, and here I am now. The end. And you?” I asked.
Kid shrugged, “Just kind of ended up here…” he trailed off before muttering, “If I told ya, you’s wouldn’t believe me.” Oh, ye of little faith.
“Believe me, I’ve heard some pretty odd things in my day. Try me.” I said.
“I was born in 1985, lived in that century until the year 2000, got kicked back to 1899 somehow and here I am now.” He said, mostly in one breath. I shrugged.
“So it’s the same deal as Weezer. No big deal.”
“True, but I think there was some kind of ulterior motive of why I was randomly kicked back to this time. I just have no idea how I’m supposed to figure out what that reason is.” Kid pointed out.
“Well, if you don’t look for it, then you’ll find it.” The second those words came out of my mouth I wished I could take it back. That would probably make no sense to him. But to my surprise, he nodded as if he understood.
“So, you were born in Ireland as Eve Patrick and now you’re here as Blues?” Kid asked, changing the subject.
“Well, I’d think it was obvious I was from Ireland, what with my accent.” I said.
He just nodded, “She came out west to find the sun. She lost her name but found a new one.” He said. I gawked. Had he just come up with that one the spot? “It’s a song, by a band named Everclear. Song from 2000.” Kid explained.
I nodded, “Well, it’s true enough.”
to be continued....