Chpt. 1

As I competed to be the loudest thing on the New York street, my breath burst out of my mouth in puffs of fog and hung in the air for a few seconds before disappearing into nothing. To some this might have seemed a picturesque scene, a young boy selling news papers, his little sister clinging to his leg as not to be swept away by the large crowd rushing to their warm homes.

There are just a few things wrong with that picture, one being that not all of us have nice warm homes to rush back to. Another is that the little girl clinging to my leg isn’t my little sister; she’s my 4-year-old daughter. The final is that I sure as hell am not a boy. My name is Velvet Jackson and I am a newsie for The New York Journal under the employ of Joseph Pulitzer. I dress and act as a boy because I know what kinds of things can happen to an unescorted girl on the back streets of New York City.

Right now my entire body is almost numb; I gave my only jacket to my daughter Belle. As if she knew my thoughts were on her, she tugged at my pants leg.

"Vel? When can we go home?" it broke my heart to hear her call me Vel instead of Mama as she could only do at home, but I had to keep up my disguise, I had to keep some food in her stomach and a little wood in our stove. I gave her my best smile (this was a feat because my lips were blue and I kept trying to keep my teeth from chattering),

"As soon as I finish sellin’ the rest of my papes Bellie, I promise." Knowing she was starting to get cold and hungry I started yelling louder, making up a few more headlines then I really should have been. Soon I wasn’t getting any more customers and I still had a good half dozen papes left in my arms. I sighed, folded them and slid them into the waistband of my pants and swung Belle up in my arms and hugged her tight, trying to keep her as warm as possible while at the same time trying to thaw my own numb body.

Almost twenty minutes later I had reached the outer hall of the Treasure Chest, the local vaudeville house that I kept a room at. From the outside and in the main stage area it seemed to be a perfectly respectable theater, it even gained public respect points by renting cheap rooms to kids like me, orphans and runaways who work for a living. I had lived here since the age of eight, cleaning and running small errands for the performers. The day I turned thirteen though, Jet, (who is in charge of everything that goes on at Treasure Chest) set me up on stage with a song for me to sing. Grateful for anything she gave me I did so willingly, not knowing that later I was to adhere to the wills of one of the younger customers that the more experienced girls couldn’t be bothered with.

I was sent to a small room, more lavishly furnished then my own, where I took my first and only tentative steps into the world of prostitution. To the disgust of many of the other girls I conceived Belle that first night, to their further dismay I decided to keep her and quit my job at Treasure Chest then and there. I worked for Mr. William Hurtz’ newspaper until my pregnancy could no longer be disguised. Then I just cleaned around the Treasure Chest until Belle was born and weaned, then it was off to Mr. Pulitzer’s paper. I always brought Belle out with me, I was a little afraid of what would happen if I left her alone in our room.

 

Once safely inside one of the small rooms set aside for children in my position, who worked hard for what little money they had, I set my nearly sleeping Belle on the small cot that served as a bed for both of us. She lay down on the thin pillow, still wrapped in my coat while I dragged myself to the small wood-burning stove in the corner. I placed what’s left of a loaf of bread, a little more then half, on top of the stove to warm it up. I sat in front of the stove and just watch my daughter; beautifully sleeping with light brown and red hair like mine, with her bangs hanging over her forehead.

Though hidden at the moment I knew her eyes well; the same sparkling amber that had belonged to my first and only lover. As my mind drifted to the seemingly self-sure, young man who had visited me, I stopped paying attention to everything else. The smell of over cooked bread jerked me from my thoughts with a soft, and very unladylike curse. I quickly separated the bread from the stove and saw that thankfully only a little bit of the bottom was a darker brown then it should be.

I broke it in half, almost burning my fingers and set it in one of two bowls I had managed to scrounge up. Blowing gently on my fingers until they were cooled off, I then took my hat and vest and unbuttoned the top button of my shirt with a sigh. But my exasperation dissipated as I gently shook Belle awake, she blinked those little amber eyes at me and gave me a sweet, yet sleepy smile.

"Mama?"

"Yeah Belle, Mama. Now come eat before ya fall asleep again." She gave me the brightest smile I’d ever seen, sprang up and hugged my neck tightly. I hugged her back quick, then handed her the now slightly cooled, unburned piece of bread. She ate it quickly, but didn’t beg for more tonight, she might have been too tired because she had already started to fall back asleep. I wolfed my own down fast enough that I barely tasted it and tried to ignore the slight pain in my stomach where it was telling me to stop teasing and really feed it.

With a yawn I helped Belle into a ratty, pale blue nightgown that once belonged to me that I had shortened for her. While she dozed lightly, I combed out that shoulder length hair and plated it to her head. After tucking her in as tight as I could while leaving blanket enough to cover me, I leaned back against the wall that the cot was pressed up against, unbound and combed my own long red-brown hair. It was a pain to keep my identity a secret with my long hair, but I could just never find the heart to chop it all off. I rebraided it, and snuggled down next to my little Belle and pulled her close to me, worrying about her safety even as we slept.

Reviews

[Brette Medb]

Historical fiction is by far my favorite genre and being a history major I always look for the true things more than the fiction and you did it justice in this first chapter. I loved every word and can't wait to read the other chapters. Great write, I really like how you've introduced the characters and added some of Vel's background.

Brette

[Corey Lunare-]

Wow. Thats the first word thats comes to mind as i write this review. Wow. This is an astounding peice of writing and is so real! The writing proposed in this peice could be that of a professionals! Astounding really. I am even more captivated by this peice thn i was about your last. write on my friend. The main charecter is immediately adored by the reader (as i adoed her) and respected her struggles immensely. I will be sre to come and read the next chapter soon! Until next time. -Lunare