Pushing strands of long, dark hair off her face, Black Star Riley grimaced and pushed her black bowler hat back a little so it didn’t mask her face as much as she usually liked it to. July in Brooklyn had brought its usual hot, muggy weather making selling papers not the most desirable pastime.
“DEAD CORPSE FOUND IN GUTTER SUSPECTED TO BE RICH MANHATTENER!” Black Star called out loudly. Usually quiet and reserved, Black Star could be fairly loud when it came to selling papers… anything helping her to get food on the table for herself was fair play, after all.
“Hey Star, how’s da headlines?” Turning in the direction of the voice and squinting against the bright sunlight she saw it was Finch McCully. Finch was a Lower Manhattan newsie, lived with Jack Kelly, Racetrack Higgins, Mush Meyers, and the whole gang down there. So naturally, seeing him in Brooklyn was a rather unusual sight.
“Alright, I guess. Why aren’tcha hawking da headlines ya self?” Black Star questioned.
“I missed ya.” Finch said with a sheepish grin.
“Oh?” Black Star could see where this was going. She and Finch had been “seeing” each other on and off ever since she’d been introduced to him, three months after she’d first moved into the Furman St. house. They were the epitome of the odd couple, Black Star Riley being the quiet, sad type and Finch McCulley being the loud, optimistic type. This had caused much conflict between the two and they were always breaking up and getting back together.
“Yeah, and I was wonderin’ if maybe you’d let me take you out tanight.” Finch said with a charming smile.
“Depends.” Black Star shrugged.
“On what?” Finch demanded.
“On… t’ings.” She replied. This argument went on for a few more minutes, resulting in Finch winning over her of course, mostly because it was just easier to give in.
“So, how is Mr. Finch McCully, anyway?” Was the first question Black Star heard once she came home that night from dinner with Finch.
“Mind ya own business, Hawk.” She scowled.
“You two back togedda again?” Spot rolled his eyes.
“Ain’t none a’ ya goddamn business.” She snapped, trudging upstairs to the bunkroom and ignoring the looks she was getting from the other newsies. They should have been used to these kind of reactions by now, she hated when people pried about anything in her life what-so-ever.
Throwing herself onto her bunk she buried her face in her pillow. So yes, Finch and her were together again but it didn’t bring happiness to her life. It never had. He was just another element to her everyday occurrences. Everyday she woke up, got ready, sold papers, went to lunch, sometimes with Finch or by herself, sold the evening edition, and then went back to Furman St. It was routine. Life was simple. But stopping to think now, she wondered if she really wanted a simple life. Excitement and chaos hadn’t brought anything good in the past, but still… she pushed these thoughts away though and began to drift into a dreamless sleep.
“WALL STREET TYCOON INVOLVED IN LOVE TRIANGLE!” Black Star shouted into the streets. Wiping the sweat from her brow she noticed the lack of reactions to the headline. Her papers just weren’t selling today. Leaning down to tie her shoelace she heard a commotion but before she could even look up to see what the matter was, she found herself knocked to the ground, papers flying everywhere. Looking around wildly she saw a man pull himself off the ground and take off running down the street, closely followed by some coppers, who avoided tripping over her, unlike the man. Glowering in the direction of the man’s retreating figure she picked up her papers off the ground, noticing three had been thrown into the gutter where of course, someone had recently felt the need to dump dishwater so the papers were soaked and destroyed. Dusting herself off she vowed if she ever saw him again, he’d get… well… something not very pleasant from her.
“Finch, ya bum, why did I even let ya talk me inta goin’ ta lunch wit’ ya today.” Black Star muttered to herself as she sat down on the sidewalk of Fulton St. where she sold her papers. The Fulton Ferry dock was located at the end of the street so Black Star would sell there in the morning to all the people taking the ferry before making her way to Water, Front, and York St. to sell the rest of her papers. The entire area was located close to the Brooklyn Bridge which was why Finch was able to see her so often, although today, in order to make lunch, she could only sell 40 papers instead of her usual 80 and she was still mad about losing the profit of three papers yesterday.
“Why so glum?” A voice above her asked. Looking up she studied the boy standing before her. He was about 5’6”, skinny with straight, brown hair that was parted, dark brown eyes, and a wide grin. He looked familiar… of course it was the man from the day before. Well, now that she had a good look at him she saw he was certainly not a man, he was no older than she, 19 at the very most.
“You cost me t’ree cents yesterday.” She accused with a frown.
“So I saw, and heah it is.” He said tossing the money at her. Catching it, she stood up.
“T’anks.” She muttered as she started off for the docks.
“So, you lived heah long?” The guy asked catching up with her.
“Long enough.” She said curtly.
“You a newsie?” He asked. Black Star just grunted in response. “You don’t talk much, huh?” He asked.
“And you don’t seem ta shut up.” She muttered.
“Not ‘till you do me da honor of telling me ya name.” He grinned.
“Ferget it.” She said suspiciously. She silently prayed he would go away, she didn’t like all these questions.
“Here, I’ll make it easy fer ya, I’m Rivers Cavanagh.” The boy said, extending his hand.
“Black Star Riley.” She said as she reluctantly shook his hand.
“Now, see, that wasn’t so hard.” He said. She grinned despite herself.
“No, I s’pose not.” She shrugged.
“Dey didn’t catch me, y’know.” River smirked.
“Who?” Black Star asked absentmindedly as she handed a paper to a businessman on his way to the ferry and he paid her.
“The coppers.” Rivers said as if it was the most obvious thing.
“Oh.” Was all Black Star said.
“Well… aren’t ya goin’ to ask why dey were aftah me?”
“No.”
“Wha… why not?” Rivers asked, sounding disappointed.
“I don’t like talkin’.” She said, looking pointedly at him.
“Oh.” He said, looking down before suddenly coming alive again. “Well, hey, you don’t have ta talk! I’ll just talk and you cin listen.” Seeing she was fighting a losing battle, Black Star just nodded and let him ramble on as she sold her papers.
“…so see, I just stole a couple little t’ings, not like the storekeepers woulda missed ‘em, but I got caught so I started runnin’, den I tripped over you and well, I couldn’t stop or I’d be caught so I just outran ‘em and decided I’d come see if you’d be in the same spot today so I could pay ya back.” Rivers finished explaining. He’d decided to not only explain why he’d been chased by the police, but also told about his life since he’d moved to New York when he was 14.
“Fascinatin’.” She muttered. Actually, she wouldn’t admit it but Rivers was rather intriguing.
“You almost done wit’ those papes or what, it’s near one in the ‘noon.” Rivers grumbled.
“No it’s not.” Black Star said glancing at her pocket watch she did a double take. “Goddamn, it is! I’m late, I gotta go!” She said as she started to dash off.
“Wait, where are ya goin’?” Rivers called.
“I gotta go!” Was all Black Star said as she sprinted down the street still clutching her last two papers.
It was almost too easy, explaining to Finch she had simply lost track of time. He barely questioned her tardiness at all. Of course, she left out the entire bit about Rivers, but why should she have to tell Finch about him anyhow?
For whatever reason, though, she couldn’t get Rivers out of her head. His face haunted her memory, try as she might to think about other things. But as she lay in bed that night, she wondered if she truly wanted to think of other things since that usually meant thinking about her past, not exactly the most pleasant thing in the world.
“Hey, Star, you sleepin’?” A voice above her hissed.
“Even if I was, you’d think dat prolly woulda woken me up den, wouldn’t it?” Black Star shot back.
“Wow, actual responses, Star. You’se really improvin’ on dis communication t’ing.” Another voice broke in.
“Ah, shut UP, Monday. And Hawkeye, even if I am awake whatever it is, I dun wanna talk ‘bout it.” Star grumbled, turning over.
“Oh, so I guess I’lls just ask Finch who dat guy you spent all mornin’ wit was, huh?” Hawkeye said smugly.
“Dammit Hawk, what the hell ya doin’ spyin’ on me, huh?” She groaned.
“Well I happened ta overheah about you and Finch goin’ out ta lunch so I figured I’d sell ‘round ya streets since ya wouldn’t be dere, but then you were dere and dere wit’ a mysterious guy, I might add.”
“’Is name is Rivers.” Star said, figuring that would be enough to supply Hawkeye’s endless curiosity.
“Oh, is t’at so. And who exactly is ‘e?” Hawkeye shot back. Black Star found herself at a loss for words since she didn’t rightly know who he was.
“Why don’tchya ask ‘im yaself.” Black Star murmured as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep…
Black Star tried to blink away the fogginess distorting her vision but for whatever reason, she couldn’t rid herself of it. She felt someone’s arms around her and squinting to see who it was, she made out the face of Rivers. She felt serene there in his arms, peaceful. No thoughts raced through her mind, just an extreme feeling of complete peace and security… something she’d never experienced in her life.—
“Wake up you lazy, good fer nothin’, miserable, piece o’ lard, sad excuse fer a—“
“I’m up, Monday, go away.” Black Star murmured with a sigh. And with that morning greeting, her dream melted away into the reality of another day.
